Hmm. So here’s an issue. If you don’t want to hear about my weight feel free to give this post a miss.
As most of you know (because I complain on here a heck of a lot) I have gained a fair amount of weight in the last couple of years. I used to weigh 100 lbs…occasionally pushing it to 110, and I could eat anything in any quantity at any time without altering that at all. I could go days with no food and then binge on an entire pizza (easily) and all was back in balance. I DO understand that this is youth and that our bodies just do these things better when they are younger, so not to worry, I’m not completely clueless here. Anyway.. I got pregnant, gained a freaking ton of weight, lost it after Colt was born and was back to normal on the outside, but inside the postpartum depression and cptsd rolled together to form a perfect storm in my brain and I suddenly found myself needing medication to stay afloat. The meds changed my body and the weight gain started….and here I am, nearly a decade later, and a few months ago I weighed as much as I did when I was nine months pregnant. It was horrifying and felt so uncomfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life. (….well, uncomfortable with the outward appearance anyway). So I did what I could do, tried to control things as best I could. It was harder than I ever let on.
One time, I wrote about how I felt here and a woman I had grown to respect and care about got offended by (or just flat out disagreed with) my thoughts. She was someone who always read my blog, often commented helpful, supportive little things. I thought of her as a blog-friend and we shared a bit over email as well as between our blogs. I asked her what had happened after she stopped reading and engaging with me and she just said she was too busy to constantly comment on everyone’s blogs. I had been following her since she started and her audience grew quickly. I thought (for some stupid reason) that she, of all people, would be understanding and patient with me. I mean, she was bipolar, had physical health concerns, was a normal, struggling, functioning human being … it floored me that she just walked away because I mentioned how I felt about my chubbier self. It HURT. I told myself it shouldn’t, that I was being way oversensitive and that I needed to accept that some people would not agree with me but it only meant that and not that they suddenly hated me for my thoughts. But…she never came back. I was just stunned. I figured out how to let it go but the echo of it wouldn’t leave me. Maybe she suddenly just stopped liking me. That happens sometimes right? I wish she would have said something though….I’m left with the impression that she ditched me because I said I didn’t feel good about how I look anymore.
And…this stupid turning 40 deal is really eating at me. It’s bothering me that it bothers me! Age is just a number…it means nothing! Yet….I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about the things I haven’t done or didn’t accomplish. I’m worried that Dayne will pack up and leave me and no one will ever want me again. I took some photos on the weekend and my god I looked so old. I can see lines and gray hairs, the tiredness in my eyes….I’m so exhausted that it’s making me look suddenly older than my years. The pain is dragging it out of me too. It didn’t help this weekend that I tried hard to look good…to entice Dayne into a bit of fun. Not only did he not make a move, he barely touched me all weekend. I don’t think he wants me anymore. I’m not sure if it’s just burn out because we’ve been together for so long or if it’s just that the offer is now always on the table from my perspective so now it’s not as enticing. ? It’s like we switched sides. Now I’m always looking for some action and he’s always ready to sleep or complain of a headache. Haha…it just struck me that this is what happens at this age…women peak sexually and men recede a bit from their “I’ll fuck anything at any time” mentality from their younger years. Maybe that’s all it is.
So…to wrap up this weird, disjointed post, I am just not feeling so great about how I look. I’m going to try to do something about that…I want to be wanted all the time again. Maybe if I flatten my tummy and tone up my legs and arms I will feel better. I do love the boobs that came with the weight so I want to keep those as much as I can. I think I’ll shoot for 130. That sounds possible and not too unhealthy doesn’t it? Really, I just want to feel beautiful again. It was such a nice failsafe to have in my life. Even when I was absolutely alone in the world, I still felt like a decent version of myself.
Back to dreams in my head…that girl in the woods. I did visit her last night but she wasn’t home. I walked around her empty house, outside and inside both, running my fingertips along the surfaces, committing them to physical memory using every sense I was able to capture them with. I touched the wood of the porch with my fingers, palms, lips….tried to connect it all together and take it into myself somehow, to keep always. She reminds me of something wonderful and hideous at the same time. I recoil and reach out again and again. I need her somehow…she feels like she could show me the way.
Hhm. Tired. Gotta focus on work now or I’ll drift off to sleep with my eyes open.