Tag Archives: cheating

252

This morning I stepped on to my new scale, naked and with an empty bladder and the result was 252 exactly. So, now I know what I’m up against and it’s the official number I will start with.

Right now, the main thing I am trying to do is a.) not gain, and b.) add healthy food to my diet. For now I’m going to weigh daily — if I don’t do that on the day that I skip it, I’ll throw it all alway and not step on that scale again. I know myself pretty well.

I came straight home from work today. I don’t always do that because I often stop at my parent’s house to eat with them or just hang out for a bit. Coming straight home is nice. I am still not quite used to the feeling that this place is all mine. I even like its messes. I have all the windows open now to air out the place. Today I walked in and said, “Honey, I’m home” to no one.

I’ve considered a pet. I’d really like a dog. But I’m just not sure I can afford one. Also being gone for nine+ hours a day isn’t fair to a dog. I like cats, but they’ve damaged my homes in the past so I’m probably not going to go that route.

I didn’t move into my house until after Christmas. It was a very long search for a home that I could afford and could imagine living in. I’m still not sure I can afford it, to be honest. And I don’t have window coverings on two windows still. I’ve got a little bit of savings, but I’m afraid to let it go too low. I’ve got no one to rely on if I have an emergency. Plumbing or a roof issue, for example. Oh, I’m a two minute drive to my parent’s house and a 9 minute drive to work, which I also love.

As a natural born worrier I could spend a lot of time worrying about the what if’s, but to be honest I enjoy being here so much that I don’t fret about it too long. This place is mine — it’s not his. Very little of what I own now reminds me of him.

When I began to unpack all of my belongings after 3+ years in storage I found myself cursing the ex because he packed all the boxes for me — he would not let me back into our apartment since it was already his love nest. I had to trust he’d give me things I’ve had long, long before I ever met him. I have found that two kitchen knives I’ve had for 15 years never made it to me, and the toolbox he packed for me was nearly empty. That made me pissed because my dad had given me a lot of what was in there. The list is long, and that’s only the stuff I can remember.

I was feeling super pissed about all the stuff I now knew was missing. Eventually I had to remind myself that I wouldn’t want that stuff now that it’s been part of their household for so long. One of the last emails I sent to him was expressing my anger about what I was missing. He wrote back asking me another question, not addressing my concern. I never responded to him again. Fuck them both. I’ve since blocked his phone number so that he can’t message or call me.

My heart is broken again today. As a lover of all things British I saw late last night how a 24 story apartment building in West London with over 300 residents was consumed by flames within fifteen minutes. Women were throwing their babies out the windows. The fire started on the lower floors. The people in upper floors couldn’t get out. People on the grass below heard their screams. Of course it is because it was a low income building. No one cared that it wasn’t a safe building. They have no idea how many are dead, but it will be a lot. Why, God? Why?

Londoners came out to help house and feed the survivors. Londoners are great at that. But this is so horrifying — I simply can’t imagine experiencing that. What good are “thoughts and prayers” anyway?

xox

 

Modern Man — A Narcissistic, Porn-Addicted Misfit

A friend of mine put this quote from self-described narcissist and narcissist expert Sam Vaknin on Facebook and it blew my mind:

Modern Man is a narcissistic, porn-addicted misfit. Women have banished men from their lives: they raise their children alone; they educate their offspring on their own (90% of teachers are female); they are way more accomplished academically and they are breaching all the remaining glass ceilings forcefully. Men are on the retreat, hiding in cyber caves, self-medicating perilously, assiduously avoiding the dual threats of intimacy and sex with women, their newfound nemesis. It is War and all sides are losing it.

My God, I know that not all men can be described that way, but many modern men (and more than a few women) can.

So it prompts me to ask, what the hell’s going on and how can we survive this?

Men (and some women) are throwing away years of marriage, fidelity, children, homes, other resources, sometimes including jobs, for what? A few orgasms and having their ego stroked. In order to behave as though they have no responsibilities again. And yes, I know this has been going on for a long time but it seems so much more prevalent now!

Yet, what responsibilities did they have? Did they do all the shopping? The cooking? The laundry? The cleaning? While couples are getting better at dividing housework, generally it’s still quite uneven. Did they read stories to the kids, bathe them, tuck them in, go to meetings with teachers?  Do they do these things day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year? Women do this AND hold down full time work.

Generally, they do not. In general they feel ENTITLED to a break from their job (which pays them more) and we think they deserve it. It may be that they really do deserve it. BUT we deserve it too, goddammit. Why is it so easy to put ourselves last?

I cannot fathom how they can be so short sighted. I can’t wrap my head around how a grown ass person can think this way and I fear that it is becoming more common.

Grown men who think they are babysitting and doing their wives a favor while looking after their own children. Grown men who act like children by feeling deserving of time off from family to socialize and drink with others, have solo vacations, play video games, or go to sporting events. And so much porn that an ordinary woman could never get him excited again.

Given their nature, how did men end up in charge of everything? How is it that they are responsible for business, government, law enforcement, when they can be weakened by one single orgasm? It’s one thing for a 14 year old boy to feel that way, but these days so many men are simply not growing up!

Is there something in the water? What the hell is going on?

I’ll be 59 this month and I have so much love to give but I’m not holding out any hope that I’ll find someone who wants my love. In a way it’s a shame because I’d like to care for someone (it comes naturally to me) and to find that there are adult men out in the world doing the right thing and who have balanced their responsibilities and their pecker. I don’t want to believe good men are all gone.

Are we becoming a society where women don’t really need men except as sperm donors? Would this be upsetting or good news for men? Is this who we really were from the start?

Do men see what’s going on here? Does it frighten them or does it titillate them?

If men want to remain immature, without adult responsibilities why don’t they have vasectomies and live the bachelor life instead of ruining the lives of women and children they have been with for ten, twenty, thirty, or forty years?

I’ll admit I don’t understand men at all. I really do miss them in my life but the Mars/Venus thing is just so obvious to me now that I wonder how we ever coexisted. Perhaps when we are young we are so obsessed with breeding we just can’t see the bigger picture. I’m way beyond those years now and find it alarming and sad.

I miss you, men, but I don’t understand you at all.

 

The Part Where I Attempt to Take Care of Myself (Again)

While it may be boring to everyone but me, I am once again embarking on a health kick.

I’ve gained all the weight my body will allow. I have a knee that just can’t take any more. When my weight’s lower, it hardly bugs me at all.

I actually began the healthy eating part yesterday but didn’t weigh myself until this morning. I know most people would be devastated to weigh 249 pounds, I was only relieved I hadn’t gained back every pound I had lost after the cheater discarded me. I was up to 270+ at that time. So, hey, it’s all relative, right?

I also know that it took a great deal of effort for me to get to 199 pounds and I stayed at that weight for about a day and a half. I’m 5′ 8″ and I was wearing normal sized clothing at that weight, of course I was swimming a lot, too, so that no doubt made a difference in how I looked. My point is that my goal is to get back to 199. That’s it. Any more than that will be icing on the cake, so to speak.

I plan to get more active but right now I’m focusing on the eating. Part of the reason for not doing everything at once is my knee hurts too much!

I was considering gastric bypass surgery recently and was reminded that before they perform that surgery they put you on a super diet to make you lose 25 or 30 pounds first. It reminded me that if I can lose weight without putting my body through surgery, I need to do it.

As I was losing the 70ish pounds I lost two years ago I knew all along that keeping it off would be nearly impossible. Every article I came across said virtually the only way to not gain weight back is to have gastric bypass. Otherwise the fat wants to come back and it does come back.

What I have to face if I can is that to keep it off I will need to eat less calories than other people who maintain. That’s just a fact. The metabolism is effed up or something. But to keep it off I will have to diet forever.

The odds of me succeeding at that are pretty much impossible, so I’ve decided that I’ll do my very best and I’ll add important lifestyle changes that might have a more lasting impact.

So yesterday and today I came home and made a homemade soup that was nutritious and super delicious.

I start by sautéing some cubed firm tofu in olive oil in a nonstick pan until it’s golden brown and meanwhile, in the soup pan I sauté a sliced leek, a handful of sliced mushrooms, fresh asparagus, and at the end, some spinach. Then I throw the tofu in and add hot water. For seasoning I added some light soy sauce, a few drops of sesame oil, a small squirt of Siracha sauce, and some salt and pepper. I let it simmer for about five minutes, until the asparagus seemed cooked, and then chowed down.

I’ve eaten that yesterday for dinner and today for lunch. Then a new batch tonight which I’ll finish tomorrow. It’s a bit hot these days for soups, but it’s all I can consider right now. I think it would be really good with a few shrimps or a handful of crabmeat.

Right now I’m weaning my poor body off the junk food I eat around here. My stomach is intermittently rebelling and I’m making trips to the bathroom. That always happens to me when I change my diet. It’ll stop eventually.

I’m working every day on getting better sleep. I’m often in bed before it’s pitch black out, but I still don’t get great sleep. Sleeping in a small day bed where I can’t stretch out has been problematic for me.

I’ve made a concerted effort to wash my face every night rather than use those makeup remover sheets. It’s a nice routine and makes me feel ready for bed. I did some research on those electric face brushes — hah, I can’t think of what they’re called. They have batteries and a fine brush which rotates and cleans your pores. I bought one from Korea that is said to be the most gentle so I’m excited to try that when it arrives.

I went to World Market on my lunch hour yesterday and bought three decorative pillows for my non existent couch. They were on sale and I got all three for $20. It was good to get out of the office and nice to do something other than hunt for vintage goods. To be honest I don’t need more kitchenalia! (Well, I need a new rice cooker, a new electric kettle, but I’ll buy those new). What I will need are practical things like a hose, a rake, a weed wackier, a toilet plunger, cleaning supplies, paper goods well, you get the picture. I need to save for practical things.

The most recent three day weekend reminded me that I have no fucking life at all and it depressed me. When I have a home to care for and a dog to walk, I will be too worn out to care about my lack of social life, at least for a while, while it’s new to me.

I am hoping that the house/dog thing will be the major lifestyle change I need to help me keep weight off.

My new position starts in one month and slightly increased pay with it and that’s about the time I will be able to start officially looking for a home to buy.

Oh, and apparently my sister, two of her children, and one grandchild will be moving here about then as well.

My father asked me if I wanted them to come to my confirmation this Sunday and I was floored. Interesting that it wasn’t my mom. Dad was born Catholic but hasn’t been in a church in many decades. I guess he just though I might like it, so I said, sure, that’d be nice and told them not to feel like they have to do all the standing and kneeling parts.

Interesting times ahead!

 

 

 

 

 

If I Can Do It, Anyone Can II

I’m in a good place. I’m feeling mostly at ease. I’m relatively hopeful even in the midst of some car troubles which normally freak me out.

Spent four nights out of town at a work conference. Got to know the doctor I’ll be working closely with. She’s not a normal doctor. She made the decision years ago not to be a wealthy doctor since she works for non profits in the child abuse field.

I met her and her partner for a musical which was fun. Later in the week I went to dinner with her. On Friday we were extremely busy but as she left she said, “Thanks for your help today.” And that meant a lot to me. I feel that she has my back. She’ll teach me and she won’t give up on me. We’ve already shared a lot about our lives with one another.

It’s official. I will have that promotion and a raise (no idea how much) effective July 1st. In the meantime I’m doing two jobs and it’s extremely challenging. I guess the only up side is that the week flies by, but I don’t feel I’m doing my best. No one expects more, after all, I am one person doing the work of two. I don’t think I could do it if they told me Aug. 1st instead of July 1st. I am barely holding on.

So I pray that later in the summer when the rush dies down I’ll be able to buy my little modest home. I will be super poor then, but it means so much to me that I am hoping it’ll all be worth it.

My ex and I have a lawsuit and we finally have dates. The depositions will be in July. The trial, if it goes that far, will be early November. The money may be a little or it may be enough to help me, but more important than the money (and I mean this) is that after the trial I never have to speak to him or hear from him again. He swears he will leave and I pray he will keep his word.

The day he tells me he is gone will be a glorious day. I will have MY town back and I can go anywhere without fear of running into him and his young girlfriend, or his pimpish, 50 year old Iranian friend who also fucks college students.

I found myself a little nostalgic over the fact that he packed my stuff for me. He had his girlfriend move in almost immediately while all my stuff was still there (and I still wanted him back) but he would not let me come in and pack it. So I have no idea what I will be missing because it went directly into storage.

I find myself worrying if he’s keeping a favorite knife I’ve had for twenty years, etc. Then I just have to remind myself that it doesn’t matter. It was the price I paid to get rid of him. If I can’t find my good knife, I’ll buy another one.

I do get attached to things, though, and I know that when he leaves that apartment he will leave everything behind that doesn’t fit in a suitcase. That’s how he is. And my stuff will still be there and be abandoned like I was.

I wrote to his landlord (a sort of friend/acquaintance) and asked him to please contact me if the ex leaves stuff behind but he never responded to my message so I doubt that he will contact me.

But would I want that shit anyway? Knowing it became part of “their” household? And probably smells like cigarette smoke? No. I don’t. In the 2.5 years we’ve been apart, I’ve bought so much cool stuff (mainly kitchen stuff, my passion) to make my new abode MY house and nobody else’s house, that I probably will not think too much about what I might have left behind.

The most interesting development this week is that I feel I have outgrown the need for my old therapist. I saw her again (I forced myself to go) to talk about dealing with my stress. It was okay, I guess, but so much effort to get there in the middle of a work day, and then have her tell me the usual stuff that I already know. I don’t think she has more magical ideas up her sleeve. I think I know what I need to do to manage my stress. I just need to do it. I may cancel the remaining appointments I have arranged.

Don’t give me any grief about that either! It’s clear to me that her arsenal of ideas has already been relayed to me. And much of it was provided by me. I need to:

Get exercise.
Be mindful — try breathing exercises and meditation.
Be creative.
Enjoy music.
Enjoy nature.
Rely on God.
Put myself OUT there to meet new people.
Get better sleep.
Forgive myself.
Love myself.

It’s not rocket science. It’s stuff we all need, right?

I needed her desperately in the early days after my ex cheated on me and kicked me out. The discard happened in October but by December I finally saw her photo and found out that she was 30 years younger than me. That news utterly destroyed me. I had been on a waiting list for a therapist and I finally got the call in January.

My therapist saved my life. I saw her every week for over a year. There was even one time where I pulled over in my car and thought I could not take any more pain. I was screaming and wailing. I called and left her a message. She called me back and talked me down. I was so, so grateful for her. The pain that day was horrific.

But I’m not that person any longer. Yes, I can recall the pain, (I’ll never forget it). And now I know that that 26 year old did me a favor. I had been trying to dump his ass for years. Apparently it had to be his idea. And wow, when he was done with me he was D.O.N.E.!

Thanks to my therapist, my doctor, my church, my family, my volunteer job, I just kept trudging through each day, putting one foot in front of the other.

And here I am. Things aren’t perfect but in regards to that horrible experience, I have survived, I have move on, and I am truly at Meh.

If I can do it, anyone can.

xox

The Week I Didn’t Lose Weight

As I feared, I did not lose weight this week, in fact I weigh four ounces more than last week, which I’m not going to bother to count.

I’m deeply concerned, but not in a panic about my lack of weight loss. It’s clear to me that when I’m mostly depressed I can pretty much control my eating, but when I’m anxious, it’s very difficult.

I’ve been anxious quite a bit in the last couple of weeks and I saw myself doing that nervous-mindless-eating thing, in particular with those hard candies (Nips) with the chocolate center. They have only 30 calories. But they are all sugar. And if you eat ten or twelve of them, well, so much for 30 calories.

I have tried not to eat them this week, and I have failed. If I weren’t living here, I’d throw them away so that the temptation is gone, but my dad likes them. I’m tempted to ask him if we can put them in his room, in fact I think I will do that. He won’t mind.

There are many snacks in this house at all times, and I’ve been pretty good at resisting them or severely limiting them, but since I’ve been nervous I am finding it almost impossible.

I’m considering weighing myself every day this week simply to get back on track and not allow myself to forget how important this is. I’m not even halfway to my goal weight, I can’t stop here. I won’t stop here.

This is not a plateau. This was just mindless nervous eating. If I apply myself, I will continue to lose weight. I really wish it would stop raining. I’d like to get outside to walk or hike.

The good news, I guess, is that I forced myself to swim yesterday even though I felt crummy. I am no worse for wear because of it, and it made me feel better since the pool is closed on Sundays. I did not want to go three days without exercising again.

This week I should be able to exercise on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, so I will make certain I do.

Today are the Academy Awards and my parents plant to start watching the red carpet stuff in the late afternoon and snacking all day. I’m going to tell them that I have to be careful and excuse myself from that temptation as much as I can.

At the recommendation of a commenter, I tinkered with trying to set up my old website yesterday and just hit huge walls. To my shock, my husband did upload a new WordPress template that I chose and says he’ll begin to work on it for me. He obviously isn’t under any obligation to do this for me, but it’s the decent thing to do considering I still pay for his cell phone bill. I’m looking at it as an exchange.

It won’t require that many hours of his time. I’m pretty competent at running the website after it’s prettied up.

So I’ve got that to look forward to. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I can hardly have my children/family website affiliated with the raw me, the one with emotional problems.

Even though it requires me to spend far too much time sitting at a computer, the website helps me feel like I’ve accomplished something and I’m really proud of it. (If you’re new to the blog, I ran this site before, took it off the internet, and when I went to put it back on, I lost all of the hundreds of articles I had written, so I have to start from scratch.)

I did look into those standing desks and would really like to try one, but they aren’t suited, I’ve discovered, for laptop users. They are better if your monitor and keyboard are separate otherwise you can end up bending over to see properly. I won’t rule it out, however.

I just told my parents that for the first time since October I did not lose weight and told them it was because I was anxious. I asked dad if I could put the Nips in his room and he said of course. So I should be back on track now that I have “witnesses” to my purpose.

My mother, however, began to talk about meals and recipes and I had to cut her off and tell her I simply can’t think about food that much. It’s unpleasant for me and has the opposite unintended effect. She talked about buying a healthier wheat bread and I told her that, as I don’t eat much bread, I prefer it to be the one I love the most, a wheat sourdough. I don’t want to eat something simply because it’s a better version. I want to love it, but limit the quantity.

Now she’s overwhelming me with ideas of what to have tonight even though I keep telling her to do whatever she likes, that I will take what I want from it, but she doesn’t get that. SHE HAS TO OVER THINK EVERYTHING.

My parents left and I got up to put the Nips in Dad’s room and he had already done it, bless his heart. My mom wants to help in her own way, too, she’s just a bit clueless. Her heart is in the right place, however.

I think I have begun this week, just barely begun, to realize that I am separating emotionally from my husband. It’s a natural process, an organic one that can’t be forced or rushed. I no longer long for his messages or calls and I no longer care to be in his company. I seem to have accepted that it is truly over. I’m so grateful to be allowed some relief from the sadness, grief, resentment, humiliation, etc. that contact with him provides. There’s an emptiness that makes me uncomfortable, but I’m glad that most of my unhappiness hasn’t been replaced with bitterness and anger, at least not too much. I am not saying it will be easy from here on out. It’s unlikely that will be the case, but my healing seems to have begun.

I’m realistically optimistic in fact I “feel like a room without a roof.”

If you need a smile today, try this:

Sunday Stats
Starting weight: 267 (mid October 2013)
Today’s weight: 216
Total weight loss to date: 51 pounds
Height: 5’8″
Goal weight: about 150

What Would Lady Grantham Do?

I sat and read my ACT book last night, but wasn’t absorbing much of it. I’ll just give myself credit for trying to concentrate on it.

I received an email that my husband forwarded to me from him and his attorney. He asked his attorney to explain why the letter won’t be ready until next week and said his “ex-partner” was accusing him of delay tactics. The attorney wrote that he’s in a trial and the letter will be ready at the end of next week.

I thought, oh how very English. I’m his ex-partner now. And for some reason it just stung. After all, I am still his wife. I guess I’m his estranged wife.

Didn’t sleep well and dreamt disturbing dreams. My ears, glands, and throat were hurting so much last night that I got up and took a pain reliever. I was pretty sure that I should not go swim today, but I did anyway.

Once in the pool I realized I just didn’t have full strength but I gave it my best and lasted about 50 minutes. I figured it’s better than nothing, plus I may feel worse tomorrow and I don’t want to miss several days swimming due to a cold, or whatever I’ve got.

When I was done at the pool I texted my husband because he had packed up five plastic bins of my stuff and I asked him if I could stop by for them. He said to come on over so when I pulled up, he was right out front with the bins. We loaded them together (they smell like ashtrays inside) and I left.

It felt so weird to see him. He’s looking trim, his hair cut recently, and he had on new skinny jeans. He was as matter of fact to me as I was to him. His accent seemed foreign. I actually wanted to get away as quickly as I could.

He said he needs another three bins, so I stopped on the way home and bought some. Most of what’s left there is furniture and now I have to decide if I want to get a larger storage unit now, or wait until he’s ready to leave the place. The main bummer is that my soft furniture will now be ruined from cigarette smoke. He never used to smoke inside. His girlfriend must be a smoker.

On to a better subject.

After I stopped writing here yesterday, I did what I said I was going to do and filled out the volunteer application to be a child advocate in the court system. It took me an hour due to supplemental questions. But eventually I printed it and stole an envelope and stamp from mom, and put it in the mail. Done.

Now I’ll be so curious if they call me. If they don’t then I’ll figure there’s something seriously wrong with my resume! I hope it works out. It’d be a nice place to meet people and do something good at the same time. I’m really curious what the position entails. Perhaps if a child has to testify, they use a volunteer to show them around the courtroom and make them comfortable? I have no idea.

Being able to do this will help me to find out if I’m at all ready to re-enter the job market. Also, they would be a good current reference for me. And, who knows, maybe it’ll help me get a paid position with the County eventually.

It’s the first step towards getting me in an environment where I interact with people. I like the environment of the courthouse. There are police, sheriff, lawyers, and judges milling about, plus all that security. I hope they don’t discount me because I have no legal experience. I’m really insecure about this!

I’m going to have to baby myself a bit. Try to get some rest, eat well, find my vitamin C, because I feel pretty punk. But I’ll get up and swim again tomorrow as long as I’m no worse.

I’m really stumped how to find a way, when I’m sinking into despair, to remember to breathe, to visualize, and to know that it will pass. I am honestly tempted to write it on my damn hand!

I had an idea that you might find amusing. I find Downton Abbey pretty entertaining and came up with “What Would Lady Grantham Do?” because she’s always so calm and composed. Do you think I could market a gold rubber bracelet with WWLGD on it?

WWLGD (What Would Lady Grantham Do?)

WWLGD (What Would Lady Grantham Do?)

I have to find some way to help me behave the way I want to behave. I’m being silly, of course, but I’d do it if it works!

Progress, Not Perfection

I feel such shame. Last night my anger got the best of me just as I went to bed. I sent my husband an ugly text and then I called him. I said something about ‘how do you expect me to feel knowing you can’t end your relationship with this woman, and I believe she lives there with you, and all my possessions are there that she is touching and using.’ But in-between there was cursing and name calling. No dignity whatsoever.

He used it as an excuse to remind me of how horrible I am to live with and no matter what I said, everything came back to being my fault. My fault. My fault. Or my family’s fault. Never his fault. He “never asked me for anything.”

I asked him why on earth he told me he wanted to be back together with me the other day and he said he was “testing” me to see how I’d behave. Later when I asked him again he said he meant it at the time but has since changed his mind because I haven’t changed like I told him I had. Later still he said it was because he was “cushioning” me. I told him, “Stop cushioning me.”

I could tell that my parents tried to go to bed while I was having words with him rather loudly. My dad got up and I don’t know how long he stayed up. I feel awful.

In my heart I knew our relationship was unsalvageable but admitting it out loud has made me lose all my confidence. Is it me or just human nature that when he wanted me I had courage and when he doesn’t want me I lose all courage?

I immediately felt 100 years old and thought to myself, ‘you’re practically sixty. what do you think you can do with your life?’ I don’t want to be sixty. I feel so much younger.

I’m so angry that I lost all composure last night and gave him more ammunition to use against me. I tried to say to him that of all the reasons I’ve ever had to be upset, this is the best one, you sleeping with another woman. He said he is under far too much stress and that he kept asking for me to leave him alone but I wouldn’t listen. Oh, and he said he has stopped his relationship with “her” and if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.

I threatened him and said if he didn’t treat me fairly, I’d tell everyone what he did to me. He doesn’t respond to threats well because that’s his area of expertise and so he threatened me back. He also said my treatment of him was far worse than his treatment of me. I honestly do not know who this man is. The man I knew seems to have truly vanished. I love and miss that man, but he no longer exists.

Wait.

I have a feeling he never existed. This is why none of my family liked him. He has a sleazy component about him. I know he is a man who wants to be good and liked, but he is duplicitous and vindictive. I knew all along that I was in a relationship with a man whose values were vastly different from mine. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter. I actually thought to myself, ‘Would you try to change Tony Soprano?’ No, you would not.

Every time I turn around I’m having to accept that my relationship is over. I keep tearing off that bandaid over and over again.

And now I am filled with self doubt. I was beginning to feel hopeful about my future new life, but now I am terrified all over again.

I have an idea for starting my own business on next to nothing, but now I wonder if it’s idiotic. I absolutely can’t trust my own instincts. I wish so much that I could have seen my new counselor this week but she couldn’t start seeing me regularly until next week. I’m going to have to share my ideas with people so I can get an idea of whether I should pursue them or not. I can’t trust my own judgement.

On top of all this indignity I have an appointment to see my doctor tomorrow to see if I have any STDs from him because I know I was with him after he started his relationship with her. And, I haven’t wanted to admit it for weeks, but I feel pain in my lower abdomen/pelvic area and I’m terrified I have something wrong inside. I had a hysterectomy two years ago and they removed my uterus and cervix. I told them if my ovaries looked ok to leave them and they did. I fear they are not ok now. My god I’m losing it.

I feel I’m at a breaking point. I am not getting nearly enough sleep. I’m not eating well because nothing sounds good. I’m so tempted to ask for klonapen or something like it to help me deal. But I simply can not. If I go that route I don’t know how long I’ll be stuck there. I don’t know what damage it will do to me and my eating and exercise regime. The only time I feel ok is when I’m working out and I can’t do that all my waking hours.

I’m really sorry to anyone reading this. I try so hard to pretend I’m motivated and changed and a decent person and then something happens to make me doubt it all. This is what my life is like and I abhor it. This is how I do not want my life to be.

Stop.

Breathe.

Understand that pretty much anybody would say things in anger that they mean and don’t mean when they realize their spouse has lied about the most intimate part of their relationship.

Give. Yourself. A. Break.

Cut yourself some slack.

Begin to process this. Begin to truly move forward.

You’re hurt. You’re not a bad person. You are hurt. You are going to be OK.

—–

I wrote the above at 5 a.m. this morning and now, after returning from swimming I feel somewhat better. This is an emotional roller coaster and no, I’m not addicted to drama. I don’t like too much of it in my life.

I sent my husband one more text today saying to him that I realize our marriage isn’t salvageable, but I do love him and care about what happens to him. That I acted up because I miss him and because I’m hurt but I don’t want to add to his stress. I told him I’d do my best to stay out of his way and for him to not give up on his case. He replied, “Thank you.” In spite of how he hurt me, I can see that he is very near a breaking point himself. He has constant calls from his family in London about their woes.

I wore my new Costco Speedo suit (size 18) today and two women, a lifeguard and a swimmer commented on my new suit. I fear that old one must have looked horrendous! It fits great but has a titch too much room in the bust. I am slightly smaller in the bust than I should be for my weight because 10 years ago I had a breast reduction. I have a feeling if/when I get to an average weight, I may end up with pancake breasts, but hey, that’s what padded bras are for, right?

When I write about exercising for an hour or sharing my eating tips I want you to know that I do not consider myself a success or an expert or an athlete. If I were known for my self control and self discipline I would not have ended up at 267 pounds, would I? While I feel that I probably will get near a normal weight, I know that this could all come tumbling down. I am known, when something doesn’t go perfectly, to throw in the towel.

I’ve worked far too hard to do that this time so I am trying to learn that this is a “progress not perfection” situation. I have also recently realized I’m far more competitive than I would ever have admitted before. Every time I have to share a lane with someone I know it quite clearly. I’ve never acknowledged that side of myself before.

I was called and told that my new counselor has an opening tomorrow at 9 a.m. and although I don’t want anything to interfere with swimming, I have taken the appointment. I’ll go swim right after that. As precarious as things are right now, I need some words of wisdom before I face the weekend.

I feel that I may not lose any weight this week, but probably will not have gained. I have just eaten wrong all week. I haven’t had many proper meals and I’ve done a bit of grazing where you can forget how much you actually consumed. I’m preparing myself for that this Sunday. If it’s the case, I’ll deal with it.

Progress, not perfection.