I got my period today. The first since the three month long period from heck. Thanks to the birth control pills for finally stopping it.
So today is Saturday and I spent my evening watching "The Big Bang Theory" while playing Tetris on an emulator the STBX installed on my computer while chatting with my Dad. It hit me how, sort of pathetic that was. However, it is still better than my old life where I would have been hiding from my husband the entire weekend.
I am really dissatisfied with my church. On July 17th I went half blind. I was in the hospital for a while and they were thinking I might have MS. They still aren't sure about that. August 2nd my husband punched me in a rage and was arrested. On August 1th I had surgery. I moved back in with my parents on September 2nd-ish. I could be off on the exact dates. But that is close.
No one from my church called me during this time or asked how I was, etc.
This causes a great deal of distress for me, because I was so active in my church. For years I was active. Sunday school, Children's Church, founding member of various committees dedicated to safety of the kids, Wednesday night Children's Choir, made countless blankets and shawls for the prayer shawl ministry. I did these things because it made me happy to give back to something. But it hurt a lot when no one called to check on me when my life basically fell apart.
I don't feel like I have anyone to talk to about this. My Mom works with several church members and they gossiped about me a lot. It is to be expected. I was a liar and pretended to have one of those good marriages for so long. I guess I deserved to be gossiped about.
I realize that a new Pastor took over during the summer and perhaps things would have been different if the old Pastor was still there when this happened. But where were my crochet group friends? My Children's choir friend did ask my Mom about me. She was the only one who wasn't just pumping my Mom for gossip information.
I have tried going back to church a few times. It is very uncomfortable for me because so many of my church friends on Facebook are also friends with the man who abused me for 9 years. I am going to openly admit that I do expect people to take sides. It might be childish, but it is true. He made fun of my church friends, saying that Christians were idiots- including me, of course, I am Queen Idiot. I mean, if they want to be friends with someone who makes fun of them behind their backs and who only went to church on some weeknights to eat, so be it. I sincerly doubt he will ever have a conversion and come to know God. Not that it isn't possible because I believe God can do anything He wants, but my STBX is too much of a narccissist to believe in anything higher than himself.
I used to go to the hospital all the time to see church people. How many cards did I sign for people who were sick? How many prayer shawls did I make? I did this because I cared about them. So I can only deduct that I was not amongst the cared for.
But I get it, I am a liar. Hi, my name is Jaime and I had a fake wedding because I had tricked myself in to thinking that I deserved to be punched for asking to borrow a jump drive. I am a liar. I get it. Lying is a sin, whatever.
I don't know. I feel like to not be supported during this time was like another slap in the face.
I feel like I invested years of my life in to people who couldn't be bothered to check in on me when they were trying to decide if I had a debilitating disease. Which I could still have and they wont know until the spots show up on my brain. That is serious, I think. Isn't that serious?
I am probably being selfish. Who knows. I think that it is sad when coworkers that I hardly know care more for me than people I have spent 6 years of my life building a relationship with.
But I was not a member of that church. I went for years but never officially joined. Maybe you have to be a member? I don't know.
This church was not even a good fit for me, really. It was like going to a rock concert. The music was so... weird. I am an old fashioned girl, I guess. I prefer the hymnal to the rock lyrics. I like it to be traditional. I am too old school, perhaps, for this church.
And I am also not nearly as open minded as they are. Am I admitting that? I think I might be more conservative than I orginally thought. All going back to my old self, like I mentioned before. My STBX lead me away from a lot of my old pastimes and interests.
Before I met him I used to write all the time. I loved it. Poetry, short stories, I was always writing. Creating. He told me that was stupid so I stopped. I used to like to go to the movies. He said it was too expensive, so I stopped. I wasn't even allowed to wash my car. So many rules he had on me. He told me church was stupid so for a long time I didn't go. He was upset when I went back. He didn't like me to watch court shows on TV, so I did it in secret. I can't help it, I love Judge Judy. Sadly I can't watch it anymore because the VCR wont work with our satellite dish. Bummer.
I used to wear makeup. And perfume. And fix my hair. He did't like it so I stopped.
I used to wash my face and use nice lotion. He said it was stupid, so I stopped.
I had nice shower gels and I would use those. He said it was expensive so I stopped.
I used to love to scrapbook but he didn't see the point so I stopped.
I used to like to have nice scented candles but he didn't like me to burn them so I stopped. He used to throw them at me a lot when he got mad. I still have the last candle he ever threw at me in my bottom drawer. I want to keep it because I want the reminder of what I am never going to have happen again.
I used to love to draw. But he told me I wasn't good at it so I stopped.
I also liked to sing, I was in my church choir where we used to live. But he said I was bad at it so I stopped that too.
My Mother made us a Christmas wreath to hang on our door and he didn't like it so he tore it down and ripped the ornaments off of it. She made a Valentine's one too but he didn't like it so he would throw it on the floor.
I had to do the dishes how he wanted and grocery shop how he wanted and make the koolaid how he wanted. I never got to do anything the way I wanted. My opinions didn't matter. Why did I give myself away?
The only thing I liked to do that he allowed me to do was crochet. I wonder why? Really.. I wonder why was I allowed to crochet? He even let me spend money on yarn every month. What were his motives for that, I wonder?
Sorry for the depressing post. I think my point was to gather input on my church situation. Am I being a big baby? Or do I have a point? And does anyone know why I gave myself away? I would love to know that too :0(
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Broken hearts and empty promises
By the time I was 15 years old I already knew all of the secret parts of me. I knew what made me laugh. I knew what made me cry. I knew what I was good at and what and who I wanted to be.
Over the last nine years I let someone etch away at my soul. It sounds dramatic, but it really isn't. Not when you look at it in black and white.
I died. My soul, it was dead. I lost so much of myself to him. I let him crush my wings and he laughed about it. He took things from me. Parts of myself that I freely gave. I wanted so badly to fit in to the mold. I wanted to be married, to have a little house, a little fence, a couple of kids and an SUV. I knew I was not supposed to be that person. I knew that the thought of being intimate with him repulsed me. I knew that I was supposed to feel butterflies when he touched me, instead of the urge to pull away. I knew it wasn't right. I still tried so hard to cram myself in to that mold. The mold of the life my parents told me I should have.
I had a lovely fake wedding. I was sick. I was living in a world that simply was not there. I put my mind above my body. I watched myself laughing when the train went by. I loved it when people told me that my wedding was the nicest they had ever been to.
But at what price? Cinderella went to the ball and almost died in the process. Because she was at the wrong dance.
Every single day now, I am getting closer to the person I used to be. I have a spine now. He can no longer manipulate me like he used to. Yesterday was proof of it. I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty because "he can't possibly get a job because he has to call bank for 5 minutes." Instead I rolled my eyes. And I laughed at him. Because, no matter what he told me over the last 9 years, it is he who is the idiot, not me.
And idiot would have stayed with him for 8 years and 89 days, instead of 8 years and 88 days. He is the idiot. Not me.
Today I went to the bank and I closed our joint account. When I called my Dad to tell him, he said "It seems like you are making good progress in getting him out of your life. You made a mistake with him and now you can move on."
And that made me feel good. I am getting rid of him, slowly but surely. Eventually he will just be a bad memory.
My students walked around the nature trail at work today. It broke my heart when my favorite chicken said "Miss J, why are you not going with us?"
It felt like a knife when my coworker jumped in to say "Oh there is work to be done here, Miss J will stay and do that work. It is important work."
But it really isn't. I am glad she interrupted me, because I would have probably told her the truth. Miss J can't go with you because Miss J can't walk around the trail. Nine years of overeating and a slow suicide has made that impossible for me.
And I watched them leave. My chickens. All excited with their wagon full of water and snacks and the first aid kit. Walking single file in to the sunshine, while I stayed behind and tried to pretend that it didn't bother me.
And I feel like this trail is my demon. The devil on my shoulder that mocks me. So many people 200 pounds lighter than me can't even get around the damn thing. So in a way, I shouldn't feel bad for not trying it. It is supposedly pretty brutal. But I feel somehow inadequate for not being able to do it. For being too weak to put down the fork. For cutting out strips of paper for the bulletin board border, instead of making memories with the people I love the most in this world. The people who kept me alive during the darkest part of my world.
I believe that I would have killed myself if I had stayed with my husband. I remember the night that he doused me with crystal light. Standing in the shower, dripping with red. Knowing that it would take days to get the stains out of the carpet, off of the walls, off of my curtains. I stood in the shower and I decided how I would kill myself. I knew in my heart that it would never, ever be better for me. I was never going to be loved or even treated as good as the cats. He had broken me and I couldn't imagine living one more day in that kind of pain.
But I somehow knew that my work wasn't done here. There is important work to be done and I had to do it. It was about my little Buggy, who no one thought was mentally there until I started working with him. It was about love changing your heart and making you want to get out of bed in the mornings. It was about not wanting to hurt any of the people who might actually care for me. It isn't quite the same love that I craved- but it is still love.
So I lived. And that was the night it all changed for me. That was the night I started my plan to get out. And I did get out. And although I have looked back at times and doubted myself, I know that I made the right decision.
Over the last nine years I let someone etch away at my soul. It sounds dramatic, but it really isn't. Not when you look at it in black and white.
I died. My soul, it was dead. I lost so much of myself to him. I let him crush my wings and he laughed about it. He took things from me. Parts of myself that I freely gave. I wanted so badly to fit in to the mold. I wanted to be married, to have a little house, a little fence, a couple of kids and an SUV. I knew I was not supposed to be that person. I knew that the thought of being intimate with him repulsed me. I knew that I was supposed to feel butterflies when he touched me, instead of the urge to pull away. I knew it wasn't right. I still tried so hard to cram myself in to that mold. The mold of the life my parents told me I should have.
I had a lovely fake wedding. I was sick. I was living in a world that simply was not there. I put my mind above my body. I watched myself laughing when the train went by. I loved it when people told me that my wedding was the nicest they had ever been to.
But at what price? Cinderella went to the ball and almost died in the process. Because she was at the wrong dance.
Every single day now, I am getting closer to the person I used to be. I have a spine now. He can no longer manipulate me like he used to. Yesterday was proof of it. I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty because "he can't possibly get a job because he has to call bank for 5 minutes." Instead I rolled my eyes. And I laughed at him. Because, no matter what he told me over the last 9 years, it is he who is the idiot, not me.
And idiot would have stayed with him for 8 years and 89 days, instead of 8 years and 88 days. He is the idiot. Not me.
Today I went to the bank and I closed our joint account. When I called my Dad to tell him, he said "It seems like you are making good progress in getting him out of your life. You made a mistake with him and now you can move on."
And that made me feel good. I am getting rid of him, slowly but surely. Eventually he will just be a bad memory.
My students walked around the nature trail at work today. It broke my heart when my favorite chicken said "Miss J, why are you not going with us?"
It felt like a knife when my coworker jumped in to say "Oh there is work to be done here, Miss J will stay and do that work. It is important work."
But it really isn't. I am glad she interrupted me, because I would have probably told her the truth. Miss J can't go with you because Miss J can't walk around the trail. Nine years of overeating and a slow suicide has made that impossible for me.
And I watched them leave. My chickens. All excited with their wagon full of water and snacks and the first aid kit. Walking single file in to the sunshine, while I stayed behind and tried to pretend that it didn't bother me.
And I feel like this trail is my demon. The devil on my shoulder that mocks me. So many people 200 pounds lighter than me can't even get around the damn thing. So in a way, I shouldn't feel bad for not trying it. It is supposedly pretty brutal. But I feel somehow inadequate for not being able to do it. For being too weak to put down the fork. For cutting out strips of paper for the bulletin board border, instead of making memories with the people I love the most in this world. The people who kept me alive during the darkest part of my world.
I believe that I would have killed myself if I had stayed with my husband. I remember the night that he doused me with crystal light. Standing in the shower, dripping with red. Knowing that it would take days to get the stains out of the carpet, off of the walls, off of my curtains. I stood in the shower and I decided how I would kill myself. I knew in my heart that it would never, ever be better for me. I was never going to be loved or even treated as good as the cats. He had broken me and I couldn't imagine living one more day in that kind of pain.
But I somehow knew that my work wasn't done here. There is important work to be done and I had to do it. It was about my little Buggy, who no one thought was mentally there until I started working with him. It was about love changing your heart and making you want to get out of bed in the mornings. It was about not wanting to hurt any of the people who might actually care for me. It isn't quite the same love that I craved- but it is still love.
So I lived. And that was the night it all changed for me. That was the night I started my plan to get out. And I did get out. And although I have looked back at times and doubted myself, I know that I made the right decision.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Does anyone have the World's Smallest Violin?
Because I would like to play it for my STBX :P
He calls me Mom today. Why she takes his calls I will never know. Anyhow, he overdrew our joint account because BillPay charges if you don't use it. I haven't used the account for 8 months. He can't cancel BillPay unless I call in and allow it too. Whatever, I have been meaning to go in and take my name off anyhow, I will do it tomorrow.
My Mom then asks him if he is working yet. He says..
Wait for it..
He says he can't possibly go to work every day because he had to call the bank about the overdraft.
Um. What?
He can't work because he had to spend maybe 10 minutes calling the bank to ask them a question?
I don't suppose the fact that he is lazy has anything to do with why he isn't working :P
Or the fact that he has a battery charge for beating up his *half blind at the time, it makes it sooooooo much worse I think* wife.
There is a special place in hell for him. Yes, I said it. And I don't feel bad for saying it either!!
He really shouldn't be allowed to share the same state as me. I am thinking of moving just to be away from him.
So my Mom pointed out to him that I spent hours and hours on the phone with the phone company cleaning up his mess. He didn't respond :P
So anyway, there is a pity party starting any minute for him!
He calls me Mom today. Why she takes his calls I will never know. Anyhow, he overdrew our joint account because BillPay charges if you don't use it. I haven't used the account for 8 months. He can't cancel BillPay unless I call in and allow it too. Whatever, I have been meaning to go in and take my name off anyhow, I will do it tomorrow.
My Mom then asks him if he is working yet. He says..
Wait for it..
He says he can't possibly go to work every day because he had to call the bank about the overdraft.
Um. What?
He can't work because he had to spend maybe 10 minutes calling the bank to ask them a question?
I don't suppose the fact that he is lazy has anything to do with why he isn't working :P
Or the fact that he has a battery charge for beating up his *half blind at the time, it makes it sooooooo much worse I think* wife.
There is a special place in hell for him. Yes, I said it. And I don't feel bad for saying it either!!
He really shouldn't be allowed to share the same state as me. I am thinking of moving just to be away from him.
So my Mom pointed out to him that I spent hours and hours on the phone with the phone company cleaning up his mess. He didn't respond :P
So anyway, there is a pity party starting any minute for him!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
That nasty green eyed monster..
So this morning I was confronted with my shortcomings and bad decision making, in a place where I least expected it.
One of my students was telling me a Bible story. I asked him if he learned that in church, because I know he goes, and he said no, that his Mom and Dad sit with him every night and they read Bible stories together as a family.
Ugh.
I was taken back by the beauty of that mental image. Yep. I was jealous.
I have this romantic image in my head of a husband being the head of the household. Wanting to protect his wife and children. Wanting to support them, not just financially, but emotionally.
I didn't get that. Because I didn't choose that. That was me. I could have picked better, but I didn't.
My husband hardly ever came home after work. Why not? He said I was annoying and he didn't like me. At first I used to cry about it, then I realized that if he wasn't home, he wasn't hurting me. So I was okay with that.
He also didn't like to work. He would yell at his boss, and threaten that he was going to quit one day and he never, ever showed up on time. So I would panic about money all the time. At one point I worked 70 hours a week. Seriously? I worked that much and he couldn't get out of bed on time in the mornings? His excuse? The cats kept him up. (The world's smallest violin *sarcasm*.)
And he didn't believe in God. He said that Christians were stupid. You should have seen the lengths I went to to get us married. Why did I bother? It was obviously a blaring warning sign when the one Pastor flat out refused to marry us.
Or when the train came by as I started to walk down the aisle- which I used to take as a positive sign, but now I see it for what it was. A huge warning. God's warning!
It doesn't get much bigger than a train.
So anyway, I don't know if God has a plan for me or not. I do know that I am going to be the World's Pickiest Person if any other man should ever show any interest in me.
I am so fat and I feel so useless. I don't think anyone will ever want me. This is exactly how I ended up with 9 years of abuse. Not thinking I could do any better.
So really, I need to plaster that to my ceiling somehow. I CAN DO BETTER! I DESERVE BETTER!
One of my students was telling me a Bible story. I asked him if he learned that in church, because I know he goes, and he said no, that his Mom and Dad sit with him every night and they read Bible stories together as a family.
Ugh.
I was taken back by the beauty of that mental image. Yep. I was jealous.
I have this romantic image in my head of a husband being the head of the household. Wanting to protect his wife and children. Wanting to support them, not just financially, but emotionally.
I didn't get that. Because I didn't choose that. That was me. I could have picked better, but I didn't.
My husband hardly ever came home after work. Why not? He said I was annoying and he didn't like me. At first I used to cry about it, then I realized that if he wasn't home, he wasn't hurting me. So I was okay with that.
He also didn't like to work. He would yell at his boss, and threaten that he was going to quit one day and he never, ever showed up on time. So I would panic about money all the time. At one point I worked 70 hours a week. Seriously? I worked that much and he couldn't get out of bed on time in the mornings? His excuse? The cats kept him up. (The world's smallest violin *sarcasm*.)
And he didn't believe in God. He said that Christians were stupid. You should have seen the lengths I went to to get us married. Why did I bother? It was obviously a blaring warning sign when the one Pastor flat out refused to marry us.
Or when the train came by as I started to walk down the aisle- which I used to take as a positive sign, but now I see it for what it was. A huge warning. God's warning!
It doesn't get much bigger than a train.
So anyway, I don't know if God has a plan for me or not. I do know that I am going to be the World's Pickiest Person if any other man should ever show any interest in me.
I am so fat and I feel so useless. I don't think anyone will ever want me. This is exactly how I ended up with 9 years of abuse. Not thinking I could do any better.
So really, I need to plaster that to my ceiling somehow. I CAN DO BETTER! I DESERVE BETTER!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Hooking again
I finished a baby blanket for my coworker last night. That is my first project since my first surgery on April 1st of 2009. I did make a small potholder when I taught one of my older students how to crochet in November LOL
I am having a bit of numbness in my arms. I am hoping this is just from relearning how to use these muscles. It took a long time to make that blanket, I wanted to ease in to it.
Right now I am working on a hose cover for my BiPap machine.
I am also making one for my Dad's machine.
I would love to find a way to make money crocheting, but I don't see it as a possibility. I checked out Etsy today and wow, are those people talented! My crocheting stinks in comparison.
I have never made anything for myself before, so this hose cover is the first thing just for me :0)
I am having a bit of numbness in my arms. I am hoping this is just from relearning how to use these muscles. It took a long time to make that blanket, I wanted to ease in to it.
Right now I am working on a hose cover for my BiPap machine.
I am also making one for my Dad's machine.
I would love to find a way to make money crocheting, but I don't see it as a possibility. I checked out Etsy today and wow, are those people talented! My crocheting stinks in comparison.
I have never made anything for myself before, so this hose cover is the first thing just for me :0)
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Top 10 Reasons Why I Am Thankful For My Freedom
1. Onions on my pizza? Sure! Onions in the meatloaf? Why not?! Onion flavored toothpaste? If I wanted to!
2. Being able to grocery shop in any damn order I want to! If I want to follow the layout of the store, I can. No more of this walking back and forth 10 times nonsense.
3. Being able to dry the dishes and put them away! I hated his rule that I had to let the dishes sit in the strainer for 24 hours. What a load of crap. Not judging anyone who does this- but really, we wont DIE if I dry the dishes and put them away. Or else my Mother and all of my Aunt's would be dead by now. And my Grandmother wouldn't have lived to be 80 :P
4. Not having to get the third degree if I styled my hair. "Why does your hair look like that, are you trying to look young?" As a matter of fact, I AM YOUNG! :P
5. No more backseat driving! Whew. I can't believe I drove at all before I met him, to hear him tell it :P
6. Leaving the shampoo in the shower if I want to.
7. Being able to put my keys where I chose to put them. Instead of where I am forced to put them.
8. Being allowed to wash my car if I want to. I don't have to beg for permission.
9. Watching all the reality TV I want to.
And the top 10 reason why I am thankful for my freedom:
10. I can hang my car keys on the key holder!!!!!!!! It seems like such a little thing, but he told me that if I hung my keys on the key holder that we would be robbed and it would be my fault, etc. I was always so jealous of people who were allowed to use a key holder. I had a nice one, too, but was forbidden to use it. When I move to my own place, I will be hanging the keys on it for sure! :0)
2. Being able to grocery shop in any damn order I want to! If I want to follow the layout of the store, I can. No more of this walking back and forth 10 times nonsense.
3. Being able to dry the dishes and put them away! I hated his rule that I had to let the dishes sit in the strainer for 24 hours. What a load of crap. Not judging anyone who does this- but really, we wont DIE if I dry the dishes and put them away. Or else my Mother and all of my Aunt's would be dead by now. And my Grandmother wouldn't have lived to be 80 :P
4. Not having to get the third degree if I styled my hair. "Why does your hair look like that, are you trying to look young?" As a matter of fact, I AM YOUNG! :P
5. No more backseat driving! Whew. I can't believe I drove at all before I met him, to hear him tell it :P
6. Leaving the shampoo in the shower if I want to.
7. Being able to put my keys where I chose to put them. Instead of where I am forced to put them.
8. Being allowed to wash my car if I want to. I don't have to beg for permission.
9. Watching all the reality TV I want to.
And the top 10 reason why I am thankful for my freedom:
10. I can hang my car keys on the key holder!!!!!!!! It seems like such a little thing, but he told me that if I hung my keys on the key holder that we would be robbed and it would be my fault, etc. I was always so jealous of people who were allowed to use a key holder. I had a nice one, too, but was forbidden to use it. When I move to my own place, I will be hanging the keys on it for sure! :0)
Friday, March 12, 2010
People say the dumbest things
Yes, I said it. There are some people in this world who are just stupid.
A coworker spent 10 minutes yesterday going on and on about how every relationship that fails involves both people being at fault.
I take offense to that, because I truly don't see my marriage failing as being my fault. I stayed with him for 9 years getting hit and always thinking it was my fault and trying to somehow fix it and make it better. If only I was better at this, better at that, etc. And I paid $225 an hour for marriage counseling that he didn't want to do, etc, etc.
So it really hurt my feelings that she was saying that I was somehow at fault for my marriage breaking up :0( I spent 9 years thinking I was to blame, but now I know it is all him, kids. He doesn't know how to use his words, that is not my problem. If my students are smarter than he is, then that is not my issue.
Ugh.
So anyway. I am moody lately. Really moody. Now that court is over I am angry. Almost seething. I feel pathetic for taking his crap for so many years. I feel weak, pathetic, stupid, etc. I feel like I wish I had had the nerve to stand up for myself. I think if I felt the way I do now 9 years ago, none of this would have ever happened to me. I would have dropped him like a hot potato the first time he slapped me on his parent's front porch.
Two things I regret in this life:
1. That I never saw him carried off in handcuffs.
2. That I didn't get to see his mugshot.
So yeah, I am pretty angry with him right now. I am sort of doing that whole thing where "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all!"
A coworker spent 10 minutes yesterday going on and on about how every relationship that fails involves both people being at fault.
I take offense to that, because I truly don't see my marriage failing as being my fault. I stayed with him for 9 years getting hit and always thinking it was my fault and trying to somehow fix it and make it better. If only I was better at this, better at that, etc. And I paid $225 an hour for marriage counseling that he didn't want to do, etc, etc.
So it really hurt my feelings that she was saying that I was somehow at fault for my marriage breaking up :0( I spent 9 years thinking I was to blame, but now I know it is all him, kids. He doesn't know how to use his words, that is not my problem. If my students are smarter than he is, then that is not my issue.
Ugh.
So anyway. I am moody lately. Really moody. Now that court is over I am angry. Almost seething. I feel pathetic for taking his crap for so many years. I feel weak, pathetic, stupid, etc. I feel like I wish I had had the nerve to stand up for myself. I think if I felt the way I do now 9 years ago, none of this would have ever happened to me. I would have dropped him like a hot potato the first time he slapped me on his parent's front porch.
Two things I regret in this life:
1. That I never saw him carried off in handcuffs.
2. That I didn't get to see his mugshot.
So yeah, I am pretty angry with him right now. I am sort of doing that whole thing where "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all!"
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Run Forrest!
So yesterday I was way proud of myself for going on a 10 minute walk. Yeah, I rock.
I made the mistake of telling my coworkers that I wanted to start exercising. So today when I was outside with the chickens happily sitting on a comfortable bench watching them play a game where they basically run laps for exercise- my coteacher had the kids grab me. Two were pushing and two were pulling, but yes, I ran some laps.
The logical part of my brain says that no one who weighs 400 pounds should ever be able to run. But I have seen the Biggest Loser, so I know it is possible. I just never thought it would be possible for me.
But it was. Dang those chickens are fast little buggers! And freakishly strong, too! They had me running laps with them, laughing the whole way.
And then it hits me, this is not torture for them. They are running laps, but they are having FUN at the same time. Nothing about it is torture for them, like it seems to be for me.
So then I was sweating and gasping for breath. I finally started breathing normally again, when I picked up one of my kids- 45 pounds of kid to be exact- swung him over my shoulder and walked a lap that way. So then of course I had to do it with like, 10 of them. And I did! I picked them up and swung them around, and walked a bit with them.
Yeah, I am typing this now because I wont be able to move tomorrow ;)
But I had FUN! The chickens had a blast. I haven't really been active with them since my two surgeries. I used to do this kind of stuff with them when I was a lot thinner. It felt good to be able to do it again.
Man, I stink though. I was sweating a lot! LOL Shower time!
I made the mistake of telling my coworkers that I wanted to start exercising. So today when I was outside with the chickens happily sitting on a comfortable bench watching them play a game where they basically run laps for exercise- my coteacher had the kids grab me. Two were pushing and two were pulling, but yes, I ran some laps.
The logical part of my brain says that no one who weighs 400 pounds should ever be able to run. But I have seen the Biggest Loser, so I know it is possible. I just never thought it would be possible for me.
But it was. Dang those chickens are fast little buggers! And freakishly strong, too! They had me running laps with them, laughing the whole way.
And then it hits me, this is not torture for them. They are running laps, but they are having FUN at the same time. Nothing about it is torture for them, like it seems to be for me.
So then I was sweating and gasping for breath. I finally started breathing normally again, when I picked up one of my kids- 45 pounds of kid to be exact- swung him over my shoulder and walked a lap that way. So then of course I had to do it with like, 10 of them. And I did! I picked them up and swung them around, and walked a bit with them.
Yeah, I am typing this now because I wont be able to move tomorrow ;)
But I had FUN! The chickens had a blast. I haven't really been active with them since my two surgeries. I used to do this kind of stuff with them when I was a lot thinner. It felt good to be able to do it again.
Man, I stink though. I was sweating a lot! LOL Shower time!
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Putting the pieces together again..
Well I have to say that I have made great strides recently to put my life back together again.
I have really done a lot with the sewing room that I live in LOL I have put away all of my Mom's sewing machines. I have put away all of my clothes. I have put away all of my yarn :faint:
I have dusted and vacuumed and turned the broken bathroom in to a nifty storage closet. It is far from complete, but it is a huge start.
I have to admit that I miss being married at times. Before you flip out on me, I want to add that I do NOT miss being married to my STBX. I just miss the act of being a wife and having a home to take care of. That is what I miss.
I miss my dinning room table. I had a fabulous table. Well, it is his now. Fine. But I always made it so pretty and it was just like looking at a magazine.
A lot about my old life was like looking at a magazine. Picture me, always smiling, always happy. My house was spotless and I was this domestic goddess that people were probably secretly irritated by. But behind the glossy picture lurked a miserable person. And I do not miss being miserable!
I have really done a lot with the sewing room that I live in LOL I have put away all of my Mom's sewing machines. I have put away all of my clothes. I have put away all of my yarn :faint:
I have dusted and vacuumed and turned the broken bathroom in to a nifty storage closet. It is far from complete, but it is a huge start.
I have to admit that I miss being married at times. Before you flip out on me, I want to add that I do NOT miss being married to my STBX. I just miss the act of being a wife and having a home to take care of. That is what I miss.
I miss my dinning room table. I had a fabulous table. Well, it is his now. Fine. But I always made it so pretty and it was just like looking at a magazine.
A lot about my old life was like looking at a magazine. Picture me, always smiling, always happy. My house was spotless and I was this domestic goddess that people were probably secretly irritated by. But behind the glossy picture lurked a miserable person. And I do not miss being miserable!
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Rockstar
So I have decided that I am a Rockstar. I feel so good right now. I am on a total emotional high.
I feel like I can do anything right now. I won. I doubt my H is ever going to change. He will probably abuse the next girl he meets. I feel bad for her :0( I hope she doesn't take it as long as I did. But as for me, right now in this moment, I feel great.
And I deserve better. Not just in relationships, but for myself in general.
This morning showed me a lot of parallels in preparing for court and preparing for my wedding. Indulge me a little here ;)
I am sitting in my room and I am putting on makeup, my best perfume *and really, I never wear perfume so that says a lot right there*, panty hose, a totally awesome outfit, fixing my hair, putting on earrings and a necklace... even walking in with the same guy at my side- my Dad! It was kind of creepy how similar the two events were.
And I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought- yeah, I am fat, but I look nice!
And I really noticed a corralation *ugh, this is not coming up on spell check for me, I have no idea how to spell it* between trying to look nice and how I felt.
Except for the shoes. I was not feeling those shoes. If I want to start dressing nice, I have to get better shoes. These are "Wow I am going to a wedding and all I have are Crocs, oh, look, here are a pair of $2 black flats". They were super uncomfortable and I was always a split second away from falling on my face.
UPDATE: My STBX got his judgement, today marked 7 months of being abuse free AND my period stopped. All in the same day. Wow, talk about excitement! It was almost like my body knew and was waiting.
So anyway, the moral of this story is: Maybe I don't always have to look like crap. LOL
One thing I have always had going for me is the fact that I am spoiled. When I was with STBX I had money. I have a great wardrobe, even after downsizing it. I have so many nice things that I don't wear. Sure, the odds are good that I am going to get some things ruined by glue, paint and markers. But I either keep them looking great and in the closet and no one ever see it, or I wear it a few times and it gets ruined, but hey, at least I wore it!
I feel like I can do anything right now. I won. I doubt my H is ever going to change. He will probably abuse the next girl he meets. I feel bad for her :0( I hope she doesn't take it as long as I did. But as for me, right now in this moment, I feel great.
And I deserve better. Not just in relationships, but for myself in general.
This morning showed me a lot of parallels in preparing for court and preparing for my wedding. Indulge me a little here ;)
I am sitting in my room and I am putting on makeup, my best perfume *and really, I never wear perfume so that says a lot right there*, panty hose, a totally awesome outfit, fixing my hair, putting on earrings and a necklace... even walking in with the same guy at my side- my Dad! It was kind of creepy how similar the two events were.
And I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought- yeah, I am fat, but I look nice!
And I really noticed a corralation *ugh, this is not coming up on spell check for me, I have no idea how to spell it* between trying to look nice and how I felt.
Except for the shoes. I was not feeling those shoes. If I want to start dressing nice, I have to get better shoes. These are "Wow I am going to a wedding and all I have are Crocs, oh, look, here are a pair of $2 black flats". They were super uncomfortable and I was always a split second away from falling on my face.
UPDATE: My STBX got his judgement, today marked 7 months of being abuse free AND my period stopped. All in the same day. Wow, talk about excitement! It was almost like my body knew and was waiting.
So anyway, the moral of this story is: Maybe I don't always have to look like crap. LOL
One thing I have always had going for me is the fact that I am spoiled. When I was with STBX I had money. I have a great wardrobe, even after downsizing it. I have so many nice things that I don't wear. Sure, the odds are good that I am going to get some things ruined by glue, paint and markers. But I either keep them looking great and in the closet and no one ever see it, or I wear it a few times and it gets ruined, but hey, at least I wore it!
Justice was served..
Here is the whole story for anyone else who has to go to court and doesn't know what might happen to them.
My Dad and I arrived at the magistrate office. He went through the metal detector first and they found a...
wait for it...
bullet in his pocket! LOL
My Dad had gone hunting last YEAR and he had this bullet for one of those tiny little guns in his pocket. For some reason he carried that around all the time in his pocket. He forgot it was in there. The look on the security guard's face when he found it was priceless. I am really surprised that he let him in after that LOL It was nice to laugh though, it helped lighten the mood.
Then they told us to go to a window with the summons. When we turned the corner I saw the AssHat. He was sitting at a table with his parents. I let a "oh Jesus" slip and immediately turned my eyes towards the clerk. I did not actually *look* at the AH. Not at all, really, just saw the side of his head and turned my eyes. I did not even know who was sitting with him until my Dad told me later. She told us to sit down and I turned the corner again so I did not have to see him. There were no seats left that were not in his line of sight. Frankly, he doesn't deserve to share the same air that I breathe, let alone the luxury of seeing me for the entire waiting time. So I just stood behind the wall.
There were a few other people there with my last name *it is pretty common here* so I was listening to people argue with each other about water lines. Then finally some people got up so I was able to sit. My Dad, however, wanted the AssHat to see him, so he sat directly in his line of sight. I think he was trying to make sure that he knew he was there and was ready to protect me if need be.
Maybe five minutes later a man called my name. He was the prosecutor. He took me down a hallway with my Dad and asked me if I had talked to the AssHat since then, and if I was trying to work it out with him. I told him no, that I had spoken to him a couple of times about settling the bills and that I was going to file for divorce as soon as I had the money. He asked if the AH was working and I told him what I knew about him being laid off and that I had not talked to him so I wasn't sure if he was or not at that time.
Then the prosecutor told me that he was charging my AssHat with battery, 60 days suspended sentence and one year's probation. Did I think that was good?
I know from the years of working for the shelter that that is REALLY good! I couldn't believe it!
Most of my client's abusers didn't get even THAT. So I was shocked.
I told him that my main concern was that the AH was going to my church and that I would like to be able to go without seeing him there. The Prosecutor asked me how long I attended and how long the AH came- I told him the specifics and mentioned that the AH claims to be an athiest and I think he only goes because I am there.
The prosecutor walked away, talked to the AH's lawyer and said that if AH shows up at my church all I have to do is call him, he will be arrested and spend the entire 60 days in jail.
Try to take my church from me? Don't think so!
So that was my victory. I was tired of being intimidated out of going to church. I won it, it is mine.
It is a small victory, but darn it, I wasn't going to let that jerk walk all over me anymore
The prosecutor told me that was it, I could go home.
Then some lady came up to me, asked me how many miles did I drive to get there today. I said maybe 4 miles, tops. She handed me a slip and told me to take it downstairs. I took it downstairs and they paid me $10.90 for being there for the 20 minutes. Ironically enough that is way more money than I would get for a half hour's work LOL
So although I didn't actually do much today, I feel like I won. I finally, after 8 long years of his abuse, STOOD UP FOR MYSELF!!!
I remember back in December of 2008 telling him that if he ever, EVER, hit me again that I would call the police. He didn't think I had the balls. He was wrong. As soon as his fist hit the side of my head, I knew that I had to follow through with my promise. I knew that he was like one of the children that I teach. That he was never going to learn unless I followed through with what I say. My 4 and 5 year olds know that when Miss J tells you you had better not do something, or X will happen, that X is 100% going to happen if you do it! I had to treat him like the child that he is.
I want to scream "WHO IS THE IDIOT NOW?" at him!
Every name he called me. Every slap, every kick. All of it. I won. I did what I said I was going to do. I finally followed it through the end, no matter how many threats he issued. I did what I said for once, not what HE said. He bullied me out of my house, he bullied me out of keeping the cats, but I am not going to be bullied out of my church. And I am NOT going to be bullied out of my half of what is MINE. I am calling the divorce attorney today to set up a consultation. Yay for me.
My Dad and I arrived at the magistrate office. He went through the metal detector first and they found a...
wait for it...
bullet in his pocket! LOL
My Dad had gone hunting last YEAR and he had this bullet for one of those tiny little guns in his pocket. For some reason he carried that around all the time in his pocket. He forgot it was in there. The look on the security guard's face when he found it was priceless. I am really surprised that he let him in after that LOL It was nice to laugh though, it helped lighten the mood.
Then they told us to go to a window with the summons. When we turned the corner I saw the AssHat. He was sitting at a table with his parents. I let a "oh Jesus" slip and immediately turned my eyes towards the clerk. I did not actually *look* at the AH. Not at all, really, just saw the side of his head and turned my eyes. I did not even know who was sitting with him until my Dad told me later. She told us to sit down and I turned the corner again so I did not have to see him. There were no seats left that were not in his line of sight. Frankly, he doesn't deserve to share the same air that I breathe, let alone the luxury of seeing me for the entire waiting time. So I just stood behind the wall.
There were a few other people there with my last name *it is pretty common here* so I was listening to people argue with each other about water lines. Then finally some people got up so I was able to sit. My Dad, however, wanted the AssHat to see him, so he sat directly in his line of sight. I think he was trying to make sure that he knew he was there and was ready to protect me if need be.
Maybe five minutes later a man called my name. He was the prosecutor. He took me down a hallway with my Dad and asked me if I had talked to the AssHat since then, and if I was trying to work it out with him. I told him no, that I had spoken to him a couple of times about settling the bills and that I was going to file for divorce as soon as I had the money. He asked if the AH was working and I told him what I knew about him being laid off and that I had not talked to him so I wasn't sure if he was or not at that time.
Then the prosecutor told me that he was charging my AssHat with battery, 60 days suspended sentence and one year's probation. Did I think that was good?
I know from the years of working for the shelter that that is REALLY good! I couldn't believe it!
Most of my client's abusers didn't get even THAT. So I was shocked.
I told him that my main concern was that the AH was going to my church and that I would like to be able to go without seeing him there. The Prosecutor asked me how long I attended and how long the AH came- I told him the specifics and mentioned that the AH claims to be an athiest and I think he only goes because I am there.
The prosecutor walked away, talked to the AH's lawyer and said that if AH shows up at my church all I have to do is call him, he will be arrested and spend the entire 60 days in jail.
Try to take my church from me? Don't think so!
So that was my victory. I was tired of being intimidated out of going to church. I won it, it is mine.
It is a small victory, but darn it, I wasn't going to let that jerk walk all over me anymore
The prosecutor told me that was it, I could go home.
Then some lady came up to me, asked me how many miles did I drive to get there today. I said maybe 4 miles, tops. She handed me a slip and told me to take it downstairs. I took it downstairs and they paid me $10.90 for being there for the 20 minutes. Ironically enough that is way more money than I would get for a half hour's work LOL
So although I didn't actually do much today, I feel like I won. I finally, after 8 long years of his abuse, STOOD UP FOR MYSELF!!!
I remember back in December of 2008 telling him that if he ever, EVER, hit me again that I would call the police. He didn't think I had the balls. He was wrong. As soon as his fist hit the side of my head, I knew that I had to follow through with my promise. I knew that he was like one of the children that I teach. That he was never going to learn unless I followed through with what I say. My 4 and 5 year olds know that when Miss J tells you you had better not do something, or X will happen, that X is 100% going to happen if you do it! I had to treat him like the child that he is.
I want to scream "WHO IS THE IDIOT NOW?" at him!
Every name he called me. Every slap, every kick. All of it. I won. I did what I said I was going to do. I finally followed it through the end, no matter how many threats he issued. I did what I said for once, not what HE said. He bullied me out of my house, he bullied me out of keeping the cats, but I am not going to be bullied out of my church. And I am NOT going to be bullied out of my half of what is MINE. I am calling the divorce attorney today to set up a consultation. Yay for me.
Monday, March 1, 2010
A post that ended up being a blog post..
I posted this on a message board I go to. I did not intend for it to be so long, but it felt like a blog post.
It should be illegal to watch the Bachelor finale the night before you have to testify against your husband in court for hitting you.
I am jealous. I can admit it. I burst in to tears at the end of the show because I realized that no one has ever loved me before. I have never experienced that. I wonder what does it feel like to be loved? To be treated with respect? To be treated like you are important enough that someone doesn't ever want to be away from you?
I am depressed :(
I wonder if I will ever be loved? I hope so. I would like to feel that.
I don't really know how to love people. My family was never one of those affectionate type families. I am sure they would maybe love me if I was the daughter they wanted, but I am not.
The term "love" is a pretty foreign concept to me. I know my students love me. I walk in the door and they all run towards me and almost knock me over hugging me. They do not do that for any other teachers or for their parents. So I feel like they have to love me in order to do that. So I guess basically I want to be loved by a man the way my students love me. They think I hang up the moon at night. And they would never hurt me on purpose and I would never hurt them. And there isn't any fear of being hurt between myself and them.
So that is what I picture grown up love to be like. Not having to flinch because you don't know if you will be hugged or hit. Not having to wonder every time you go in the car with a person whether or not they are going to leave you there. I hated that a lot. Just being left at gas stations or grocery stores. It was so humiliating standing there, calling his cell phone begging him to come back and get me. Not thinking that it would be possible to call my parents and admit that my husband hated me so much that he left me stranded somewhere. Because that really is hate. He hated me. He still does. I think he would be happy if I died. And for a long time I agreed with him.
And for some reason the hitting and kicking and being choked and being left at gas stations does not compare to having the two gallons of Crystal Light thrown at me. I keep going back to that one incident in my mind. Standing in the kitchen, soaking wet, with the walls and the carpet and the appliances dripping in red. It was an entire year before I could drink it again. I couldn't even make it for my students at the family Christmas party. How stupid is that? I couldn't even make the stupid fruit punch.
So tomorrow I have to go to court and it angers me a lot when people in my life ask me about my "court date."
Because, you see, it is NOT my court date. It is not "mine". I do not own that. I am not the one in trouble. I did not do anything wrong. I feel like it is rude to say out loud that I have a court date. No, HE has a court date. Because he punched his half blind wife in the side of her head. That is why I have to go to HIS court date. :eyesroll
And I am probably just extra moody about it. But it really irks me to hear people phrase it like that :irked
I feel like there is a very real possibility that he will try to approach me. He might try to grab me. I am pretty confident that my Father can take care of it if he does. But the fear is there. He is a good liar, and a good manipulator. And he consumed me for 8 years, 2 months and 28 days. That is a lot of time to forget who you are.
That is also a lot of time to eat.
I have such a love/hate relationship with food.
It kept me alive. I really think that if I hadn't been able to overeat I would have killed myself. I know that as sure as I know my own name.
There are so many things that I used to do before him. I used to write, believe it or not. A lot. I was good, too. At least I think so :bag
My teachers always thought so. I loved poems the most. I wrote poems freely and people would read them and love them and ask to read more. And I was working on a book. I had so many ideas. I had so many dreams.
I wanted to be a teacher. I am a teacher, but not the kind of teacher I always wanted to be. I went in to the program knowing that I would have to move to get a job, and I was okay with that. I had dreams. I wanted that. I wanted the chance to go somewhere else, to figure out who I was.
And my test scores. I don't like to talk about them because I don't want to be seen as someone who is like a peacock and bragging. But everyone hated me, I scored so high. All of my professors, everyone was so proud of me. I had a future.
And he tore it all up. He told me I was stupid. He said that I was an idiot. He said that no one would want me and that I was lucky he put up with me. He told me that I wasn't capable of moving away and being without him. He told me that if I was not smart enough to grocery shop or do the dishes the right way, that I would never be smart enough to get a good job.
And believed that. I don't know why I did. I think he fed in to a lot of insecurities that my parents laid for me. And added to a very unpleasant first student teaching experience. I was in a place where I thought I was lucky to have him even talking to me, so I believed him.
And I know how crazy people think I am. I think every boss I have had is shocked that I work there instead of moving to get a good job. It has always been like "Um, you want to work here?" I never did better because he convinced me that I couldn't do better.
And I am raw. And I am weak. And I never push the limits of myself because there is always that voice in my head that says I can't fly. That my wings are weak and will break.
I don't love myself. I weigh 450 pounds, that is hate. I was not always like this. I used to be under 200 pounds, and I was active and I had cute clothes. And no one stared at me when I walked down the street. And I knew who I was. I remember that. I knew who I was inside. I knew that I was a good person. I did not doubt for a minute that I was thought highly of in my community and my church and my University. I had a lot of things going for me.
And I feel like he fucked it all up.
But I can't really blame him, because I let him do this to me. I let him tear down my confidence. I saw it chip away like lead paint. It fell to the floor and got swept up in the dustpan and thrown away. And before I knew it, I had a new layer around me. Only this time it was fat. And it kept me alive, so I appreciate that.
But I feel broken. And I don't know how to fix it. No matter how much therapy I have had- and believe me, my therapist's kid can go to whatever college he wants to- I never hear the words that fix me.
So maybe I need to fix myself.
I need some super glue.
It should be illegal to watch the Bachelor finale the night before you have to testify against your husband in court for hitting you.
I am jealous. I can admit it. I burst in to tears at the end of the show because I realized that no one has ever loved me before. I have never experienced that. I wonder what does it feel like to be loved? To be treated with respect? To be treated like you are important enough that someone doesn't ever want to be away from you?
I am depressed :(
I wonder if I will ever be loved? I hope so. I would like to feel that.
I don't really know how to love people. My family was never one of those affectionate type families. I am sure they would maybe love me if I was the daughter they wanted, but I am not.
The term "love" is a pretty foreign concept to me. I know my students love me. I walk in the door and they all run towards me and almost knock me over hugging me. They do not do that for any other teachers or for their parents. So I feel like they have to love me in order to do that. So I guess basically I want to be loved by a man the way my students love me. They think I hang up the moon at night. And they would never hurt me on purpose and I would never hurt them. And there isn't any fear of being hurt between myself and them.
So that is what I picture grown up love to be like. Not having to flinch because you don't know if you will be hugged or hit. Not having to wonder every time you go in the car with a person whether or not they are going to leave you there. I hated that a lot. Just being left at gas stations or grocery stores. It was so humiliating standing there, calling his cell phone begging him to come back and get me. Not thinking that it would be possible to call my parents and admit that my husband hated me so much that he left me stranded somewhere. Because that really is hate. He hated me. He still does. I think he would be happy if I died. And for a long time I agreed with him.
And for some reason the hitting and kicking and being choked and being left at gas stations does not compare to having the two gallons of Crystal Light thrown at me. I keep going back to that one incident in my mind. Standing in the kitchen, soaking wet, with the walls and the carpet and the appliances dripping in red. It was an entire year before I could drink it again. I couldn't even make it for my students at the family Christmas party. How stupid is that? I couldn't even make the stupid fruit punch.
So tomorrow I have to go to court and it angers me a lot when people in my life ask me about my "court date."
Because, you see, it is NOT my court date. It is not "mine". I do not own that. I am not the one in trouble. I did not do anything wrong. I feel like it is rude to say out loud that I have a court date. No, HE has a court date. Because he punched his half blind wife in the side of her head. That is why I have to go to HIS court date. :eyesroll
And I am probably just extra moody about it. But it really irks me to hear people phrase it like that :irked
I feel like there is a very real possibility that he will try to approach me. He might try to grab me. I am pretty confident that my Father can take care of it if he does. But the fear is there. He is a good liar, and a good manipulator. And he consumed me for 8 years, 2 months and 28 days. That is a lot of time to forget who you are.
That is also a lot of time to eat.
I have such a love/hate relationship with food.
It kept me alive. I really think that if I hadn't been able to overeat I would have killed myself. I know that as sure as I know my own name.
There are so many things that I used to do before him. I used to write, believe it or not. A lot. I was good, too. At least I think so :bag
My teachers always thought so. I loved poems the most. I wrote poems freely and people would read them and love them and ask to read more. And I was working on a book. I had so many ideas. I had so many dreams.
I wanted to be a teacher. I am a teacher, but not the kind of teacher I always wanted to be. I went in to the program knowing that I would have to move to get a job, and I was okay with that. I had dreams. I wanted that. I wanted the chance to go somewhere else, to figure out who I was.
And my test scores. I don't like to talk about them because I don't want to be seen as someone who is like a peacock and bragging. But everyone hated me, I scored so high. All of my professors, everyone was so proud of me. I had a future.
And he tore it all up. He told me I was stupid. He said that I was an idiot. He said that no one would want me and that I was lucky he put up with me. He told me that I wasn't capable of moving away and being without him. He told me that if I was not smart enough to grocery shop or do the dishes the right way, that I would never be smart enough to get a good job.
And believed that. I don't know why I did. I think he fed in to a lot of insecurities that my parents laid for me. And added to a very unpleasant first student teaching experience. I was in a place where I thought I was lucky to have him even talking to me, so I believed him.
And I know how crazy people think I am. I think every boss I have had is shocked that I work there instead of moving to get a good job. It has always been like "Um, you want to work here?" I never did better because he convinced me that I couldn't do better.
And I am raw. And I am weak. And I never push the limits of myself because there is always that voice in my head that says I can't fly. That my wings are weak and will break.
I don't love myself. I weigh 450 pounds, that is hate. I was not always like this. I used to be under 200 pounds, and I was active and I had cute clothes. And no one stared at me when I walked down the street. And I knew who I was. I remember that. I knew who I was inside. I knew that I was a good person. I did not doubt for a minute that I was thought highly of in my community and my church and my University. I had a lot of things going for me.
And I feel like he fucked it all up.
But I can't really blame him, because I let him do this to me. I let him tear down my confidence. I saw it chip away like lead paint. It fell to the floor and got swept up in the dustpan and thrown away. And before I knew it, I had a new layer around me. Only this time it was fat. And it kept me alive, so I appreciate that.
But I feel broken. And I don't know how to fix it. No matter how much therapy I have had- and believe me, my therapist's kid can go to whatever college he wants to- I never hear the words that fix me.
So maybe I need to fix myself.
I need some super glue.
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