Tag Archives: exercise

Making Peace With my Scale

I’m glad I don’t write here everyday as I used to when I was in the throes of agony over my ex’s cheating. I’m glad that my life truly has settled down. I am happy to write when I have something to say or get off my chest.

I’ve continued to weigh nearly every day and this morning I was almost exactly what I weighed when I started. It’s been interesting for me to simply have the courage to weigh each morning and watch my weight fluctuate by almost five pounds from day to day. I guess you could say I’m making peace with my scale.

But I’m not making peace with my weight. I just know I have to come at this from a this is forever state of mind. I’m tired of gaining and losing, gaining and losing.

I turned sixty at the end of last month. Me, 60. It’s mind boggling because I feel like I have always felt. But I simply don’t want to court ill health by being so overweight. That’s the bottom line. And I’ve been quite lucky so far. (Knock wood).

But there’s more. My weight tells people, whether it’s true or not, that I have no self control. My weight tells me that I don’t consider myself worthy of having a partner because, after all, who would want me like this?

I don’t really believe in “fat acceptance” but I do believe in loving yourself where you’re at in your journey, no matter what. I do not think, however, that this world would be a better place if we all keep getting fatter and fatter and fatter.

At my age, I’m not concerned with things that concerned me twenty or thirty years ago. I’m not obsessed with looking young but when I really applied myself (after the discard) by swimming nearly every day and eating small meals I felt so damned good physically. My butt fit in my chair better. I could easily cross my legs. I didn’t worry about being the fat one on the plane. I enjoyed how my body felt and the energy and strength I had. I’d like to get a little of that back.

I don’t care how long it takes me as long as I see progress. In fact I think it may be good for me to purposely lose weight slowly.

Yesterday I decided two things, a.) I want to buy a juicer, and b.) I want to buy a treadmill.

I gave a decent juicer to my daughter before one of my many “moves” to England and I’ve missed it. I tend not to eat much fruit and veg unless they are juiced. I’m pretty savvy about making them healthy and not overly sweet.

So last night I spent three + hours researching juicers and settled upon this one, the Omega J8007S. It’s quite a step up from what I had before, but still not a top of the line juicer. It cost me $240 which is an enormous investment in my health.

My project for the weekend will be to buy a treadmill. I’m a good walker, but I don’t enjoy walking in my neighborhood. I feel too cold, too hot, too embarrassed at who might see me, too alone. I don’t walk as far as I’d like because I just want it to be over. But I’ve had success with a treadmill before, and want to give that a go. And I like knowing I can do it whenever I want to do it.

I’ve also recommitted to vegetarianism. I was a vegetarian for over 20 years when I met the ex, a meat eating Iranian. It took a while, but eventually he seduced me with barbecued shrimp and Persian style chicken kebabs. Since then I’ve eaten bacon and now and then some fish, but I don’t feel good about any of it.

I don’t enjoy eating it much, I never have, even as a kid. Also, I am seriously sensitive to the pain and suffering of animals. I can’t eat any meat without thinking of the life and death of the animal. I’m so relieved to eat the way I want to eat and will not compromise again.

So I feel optimistic that I can embark on this journey of health. With any luck I can work into my seventies and keep being independent. Yes, I should have acted before now, but I’ve been busy regaining my sanity.

Thanks for reading.





The scale read 248.6 this morning and I thought, ‘my gosh this weight loss thing is easy’ but then I remembered WATER WEIGHT. Oh well, at least it got me into the 40s.

For a long time now I’ve been eating a ton at night, so that’s when things are the hardest for me. But right now, with just a middling effort I will probably lose weight simply because my body is used to so, so many extra calories.

It’s only been a few days but already I feel more energized and that I’m sleeping better. I woke with my alarm this morning which I never do. I’m trying to spend a couple of hours puttering around the house before I settle into to Midsomer Murders (Netflix) and that feels good too. I forget that we work nine hours and sleep 8 hours, but that does leave some time for things other than watching TV.

And I’ve started the habit of coming home on Friday and doing chores and laundry to get a jump start on the weekend. That way I don’t feel like I’m spending half of Saturday doing that. Of course I’ll probably do the yard work tomorrow, but that’s okay — it’s EXERCISE.

I discovered well after I moved in here that my walls are plaster, not drywall. I love the look of them, but I’m having a hard time hanging heavier things — I’m fearful it’ll just fall off the wall and take the plaster with it. I’ve watched a lot of youtube vids, but still feel timid. This is a time I wish I had a man in my life. But not all men know how to do stuff like that — my recent ex would not have known.

My father says, “I can help! I’m not crippled.” But he is awfully frail. I have a shelf I assembled from Ikea that I just don’t know how to get up. I feel sort of ridiculous about that.

Speaking of dad, this Sunday is Father’s Day. I’ve been acutely aware the last couple of years that every birthday, Christmas, Father’s Day, could be his last. I don’t want him to go anywhere not only because I love him and will miss him, but also because that will leave me with my mom.

My sister moved to town about a year ago. It took her several years of planning because she had to bring her other adult children with her — she has a grandchild she did not want to leave behind in Louisiana. We were never close as kids but I really did look forward to her coming here and doing things with her now and then.

Well, that’s not happening, not even a little. Last November we planned to meet at a holiday fair and I got there and texted her and started walking around. About thirty minutes later I ran into her, her daughter, and grandchild and my sister hits her daughter on the arm and declares, “I told you to remind me!”

So I was a complete and utter afterthought for her. She basically forgot she was meeting me. I can’t fathom such behavior. We are nothing alike.

I bring her up because I had at least hoped that she’d spend some time with our folks so that I don’t have to feel so guilty when I’m not over there. But no, she really can’t be bothered to do that either, and she rarely calls them. She is simply consumed with her five kids and all their drama. Outsiders can’t compete.

And my parents are pretty confused about how to deal with her and her brood. Her offspring are adults and they are jobless potheads (okay, one is on methadone), they smell, they are overly opinionated, they feel like utter strangers, and we don’t know how to deal with family get togethers.

When they come to my parent’s house, it’s awkward. When my parents offer to take them out they feel embarrassed by their appearance, smell, and behavior. I feel guilty that I don’t really want to get to know them. I can’t tell my sister that her kids are strangers to me and I don’t really care for them. I really don’t know how to handle it.

But my mom really hates them. She makes an ugly face when she talks about them. I really hate hearing her speak that way about her own grandchildren. It’s awful. So I’m sort of curious about how her opinions on my sister and her family change or don’t change when she becomes a widow.

At least I’m assuming dad will go first. It’s a miracle that a man who has smoked since he was 12 is still alive at 82. He’ll be 83 next month. Mom’s health isn’t bad, and she’s 80.

When I first moved to my place this winter I asked my sister to come over several times. She didn’t respond or didn’t feel well. I finally stopped asking her because I was beginning to feel embarrassed about it. I really feel she just doesn’t need anyone in her life. It’s not that she is envious that I have a house and she doesn’t — It’s that she just doesn’t care about anyone but herself and her kids and grandkids.

But I’m oversimplifying the situation. She does have bad health. She does have her hands full with her kids. I would not trade places with her for anything. I never should have thought we could be close since we never have been. I tell my parents that it’s not like I lost anything because she’s never been a part of my life. But I’ll admit to you that I’m disappointed. I really thought I’d have an adult friend to do something with on a Friday night.

No need to feel bad for me. I’m on my second load of laundry and I’m about to vacuum. I know how to have a good time on Friday night!


Any advice on what you do when faced with relatives you don’t really want to spend time with?



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?



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!






Rage. Raw Emotions. Clinging to hope.

I am at my absolute worst right now. This rage I am feeling is so much more dangerous than my deep depression. I hope I can somehow manage it. I feel like taking one of the emergency anti anxiety pills but I know I have to do everything I can not to get into that habit.

I think this is Borderline at its worst. I feel so angry at everyone, including myself. I wasn’t all that eager to swim, but went there and shared a lane with a woman for about ten minutes. Then she got out and a man immediately took her place. He was an old man, a slow swimmer, and I use the term “swimmer” loosely since he mainly floated on his back and kicked his frog legs out to the side, arms wide. And every single time I swam by him I feared getting frog kicked and so finally I asked the man in the next lane if I could share his, and he said, yes, but that the woman who was there left her stuff and hadn’t come back. I said, okay, and got out and waited for a lane to open. She never came back, by the way. She was probably in a water aerobics class.

As I sat there watching this selfish man so leisurely floating up and down what was MY lane and I just felt like screaming. I waited about ten minutes and then shared the lane next to him but every time I swam by him I wanted to cuss him out under the water. I realized I was not going to get a handle on this rage and that I might as well get out or risk having a heart attack.

I don’t know why the pool was so crowded. I wish swimmers would have some consideration for who they pick to share a lane with. And now I fear, being an all or nothing person, that I will never go back or that my pool time will now diminish until it’s nonexistent. I’m so resentful yet this is almost entirely manufactured by ME. It’s all because of MY attitude, not the old man or anybody else.

I’m not sure why I feel so raw. Perhaps just that my comfortable routine is all over the place right now. I fear being told that my background check has embarrassing and humiliating things in it. I have mixed emotions about my husband. My weight loss has come to a crawl. Fuck. Sorry. But, Fuck. I am sorry for the language, I am just at a loss.

I guess I feel grateful that I have an appointment with my psychiatric nurse practitioner today.

I spent the entire day yesterday in training for a volunteer position at a place affiliated with the DA’s office where children that are victims of abuse can get their needs taken care of in one place.

We heard from another police detective, a woman from the Department of Human Services, a probation officer from the juvenile justice center (for under age abusers), and met some of the experienced victim advocates, which is what I will (hopefully) become at the end of training.

We heard another real 911 call that made me tear up, and we heard a telephone conversation between a 14 year old girl and her father who sexually abused her from age eleven. She worked with the detective and knew what to say to get her father to admit to the abuse on the phone. Her bravery was incredible. And it was almost satisfying to hear the utter panic in his voice when he realized it was all over for him. In spite of his extreme anxiety he was still asking her to lie for him.

It was nice to hear from the experienced volunteer advocates. They talked about the highs and lows of the job. More than one person said that you know the job is getting to you when you leave for the day and all you can think of is having a drink. They were kidding, but at the same time serious. I’m struck by the camaraderie in spite of the different goals of the various agencies. They use a lot of humor to offset such a serious situation.

I haven’t heard whether I passed the background check yet but will certainly know by Friday which is the last day of formal training. After that we’ll shadow more experienced people until we feel comfortable taking a case ourselves. In case you’re new to the blog, I was concerned that several years of suicide attempts would somehow show up on my background check.

Being able to volunteer is part of me getting my life back on track. I’ve lived abroad for the past several years and my references and work experience are old. I need to gain experience and references in order to start my life over. I also need to find out if I am capable of working again. It’s been about ten years since I held a job. I’m a bit sad that I’ve discovered this amazing world and wish that I were 26 and not 56 so that I could be someone who really makes a difference to a hurting child.

My husband (estranged) is helping me with a website I want to bring back, one that I ran before, but it’s such a pain in the ass with him giving it very little attention and it looks really bad while it’s under construction that I’m losing hope over it. This is the one thing that I might be able to turn into a way to make money, but he can’t get it together to bring the site up. He keeps saying he’ll do it and then he doesn’t.

I’m so wound up. I fear overeating. I fear doing something rash. I hate feeling this way. It’s so pathetic because last night I watched most of a PBS documentary about Mister Rogers and I was so overwhelmed with how genuinely kind this man was and I wanted only to emulate him, and look at me, screaming (in my head) at old men who just want to use the pool like me. And that’s where my rage takes me, back to despising myself. I want off this roller coaster. It’s no way to live.



Breathe again.

Close your eyes.


Think about an image, a place, a time, the future, anything hopeful. It’s hard. I can’t choose, I am too scattered.

Just breathe then.

Something will come to you.

You can’t be having a fit if you’re breathing long, slow, deep breaths. You can’t.

Compassion. Have compassion for your mom as you help her with Facebook. Have compassion for your dad as you show him walkers to buy on Craigslist. All of our time here is fleeting. Love the people who have given you so much. Pet the dog. Breathe.

You can do this.


And think, “What would Lady Grantham do?”

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

Reminders, Motivation, Regrouping

Sometimes I forget that I am transforming myself and starting my life again. I had become a completely unproductive member of society and I’ve spent the last 4+ months trying to undo that. More than fifteen years being a mess and only a few months attempting to change myself. I should cut myself some slack.

Leaving a tumultuous and abusive marriage, gaining understanding and control of my many emotional problems, starting a fitness program and attempting to lose a significant amount of weight is a lot to do at once. I’ve been so lucky that I have been living with my parents so that I have the luxury to make these changes.

When (if) I pass the background check for this volunteer position will be a big step towards making me feel like a normal member of society. I’ll be terribly deflated if I get bad results.

For several weeks I’ve said that “I’m not sure if I’ll lose weight this week” and I think that’s a warning sign. Real life makes me nervous. Being nervous makes me eat mindlessly. I do not think I’ll lose any weight this week and that makes me sad. I do not want to lose only a pound a week because it’ll take me so very long to get near goal weight at that rate. And an even worst case scenario is that I stop losing altogether and begin to gain. I can’t do that. I simply can’t.

I tell my psychiatric nurse practitioner and my therapist that there are certain things, like psychiatric hospital stays and suicide attempts, that will never again be a part of my future because I refuse for them to be a part of my future. I need to feel the same way about my weight loss. I refuse to be fat any longer. Being fat will not be a part of my future.

It’s very early on Saturday and I can’t sleep due to this head cold. My head, ears, and throat hurt bad and I know I really should not swim today. That disappoints me, but I think it’s for the best. We’ll see what I end up doing later.

I’m such a creature of habit. I was going to the pool six days a week for so many weeks, and then real life appointments began to poke holes at that. I knew it would be a challenge for an “all or nothing” person like myself and it is. But I must buck up and be stronger and more committed. Real life means interruptions and schedule changes. Deal with it.

If I will be spending some time each week volunteering, I will need to plan my meals ahead and when I come home I must not eat out of nervousness. This is going to take some planning, commitment, and strength. I’ll fit exercise around things too.

I sat down a couple of days ago to look at what my local community college offers as far as a degree in anything to help me get into the field of social services. After a while I was completely discouraged because I don’t feel I can make such a huge investment in time at school (not to mention money). I could attempt to get a two year degree, but that won’t guarantee me of a job. It’s one more regret that I never went to college. Well, I took a lot of art classes but that won’t help me now!

I am still quite bummed that I am not able to work on my website. It would make a huge difference to my self esteem. My husband says he’ll work on it (because he wants me to keep paying his cell phone bill), but he hasn’t done a thing on it in a month. I’m so tired of being made a fool. I think I’ll have to tell him that as of this next payment, I’ll go in and cancel his line. The problem is that my emotions get the better of me. What would he do if he couldn’t get a phone?

He’s thrown me in the trash and yet I worry about what he’d do without a phone. I’m either kind or completely twisted.

It’s just so hurtful after I gave him every penny I had, then he cheats on me and abandons me, and I am still paying for him.

I did ask him to make a statement in an email to his daughters that he will give me half of his settlement, but he said that it doesn’t concern them and he doesn’t want them to know the amount of the settlement because he fears they’ll tell his mother, who will want him to give her some — WHICH HE SHOULD.

I didn’t want to involve them either or tell them the amount of the settlement. But I wish some other people knew of the promises he makes to me.

If I had my wish I would get part of his settlement money and invest a small amount (less than $5,000) into my website and then really dedicate myself to it to see if I can make some money at it. I’ve always wanted to have my own business. But I’m not sure if I’m being delusional and I’m not sure my website can make money. Only some investment in time and money will tell.

While I do that I can continue volunteering, and I can begin to work with local agencies which exist just to help small businesses succeed. I’d be meeting all sort of people from many walks of life. I’ll be busy which is also something new to get used to.

I’ll get my own small apartment and I’ll still spend a lot of time with my parents and life will be okay and I might meet someone special. I’ll also spend time in the outdoors and being healthy. My goals aren’t lofty. They’re doable. The problem is me. I’m not normal. But I must pretend to be or my future will suck. “Fake it ’till you make it” applies to me.

Eventually I hope to meet an interesting, witty, intelligent man. One who appreciates my colorful past but believes in my ability to change. I want to have a vegetable garden in the backyard, I want him to tell me what he knows about wine and learn to SCUBA dive together. I want to take trips with him to Europe, and I want to make love with him.

That is the future I want, ultimately and that is what I will strive for.