To say that I’ve had a challenging couple of years would be an understatement. I’ve experienced a roller coaster of emotions as this ‘resistant to change’ gal has had her whole world turned upside down.
We all have different ways of dealing with stress in our lives. Some people drink, some smoke or do drugs. My drug of choice happens to be food. And it was never a problem until I started gaining weight when I was about 42. The weight gain was insidious; 5 pounds here, another 10 there. On my 5’9 frame, it was barely noticeable.
I started on meds for anxiety and depression last year and subsequently gained another 40 pounds. Was it all from the meds? Heck no! I’m pretty sure that nightly pitchers of cocktails and gallons of ice cream contributed as well.
Looking back, I realize that I lived a lot of my life for my parents. Even before they were both ill. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that I have any regrets or that I would have done anything differently. I’ve just been struggling for the last 9 months to figure out who I am and what I want.
I couldn’t tell you if I’ve grieved “properly”. I don’t know that there’s really a right or wrong way and I know it’s different for everyone. I’ve just been trying to move forward while struggling to make peace with a lot of the past.
It’s no secret that I’m really unhappy with my weight right now and I’ve been busting my butt to make some changes. When I went on a dating website a month ago, I knew I wasn’t in an emotionally healthy place for a relationship and was instead looking for a distraction through the holidays.
Then I met Macy’s guy. You know how it is when you instantly click with someone and you feel like you’ve known them forever? It doesn’t just happen with romance. I’ve met women who have become my kindred souls seemingly without effort.
Macy’s guy and I had common ground on so many things and we were never at a loss for conversation. We saw each other a few times a week and shared a lot as we talked for an hour every night. I even made the bold move to invite him to a get together with all of my closest friends and he readily accepted. The last time they met anyone I was dating was 5 years ago.
He seemed to be everything that I didn’t think I wanted and it seemed crazy because it was all so sudden and yet it kinda made sense, too. I vacillated between running like hell and jumping in feet first.
Last weekend, I hadn’t heard from him much and I was finally able to get him on the phone Monday night when he told me that he “didn’t want to pursue this any further”.
I didn’t understand and so I asked him, “Why?” His response was that he didn’t want to tell me because he didn’t want to sound shallow.
My heart sunk and I thought of the struggles with my weight that I had shared with him. He was dumping me because of the way I look. I would have preferred that he had called me a bitch or told me that my moral compass was askew or that my pot roast was lousy but the way I LOOK??
This was unchartered territory for me and my knee jerk reaction was to defend myself and tell him how hard I had been working out. Then, almost as soon as I heard myself saying it, I retracted it realizing that I didn’t have to justify myself to someone who didn’t accept me as I was.
But you know what? I get it. I mean, I’m as shallow as he is, only I’ll reject someone immediately. I don’t string ‘em along and then change my mind. I guess he wasn’t the person that I thought (hoped) he was but the blow to my ego was devastating.
Have you watched any of the news coverage about the death of North Korean leader, Kim Jong-il, where they show the people of North Korea out in the streets wailing in sadness over the loss of him?
That’s how I was Monday night.
I took the dogs for a long walk and I sobbed all the way. I can’t believe no one called the police. I made sure to go down different streets where no one knew me!
I was so distraught but not over the loss of Macy’s guy. I guess I was crying over the loss of my youth, my hotness and everything that has to do with how I look. I had officially entered middle age and it sucked.
Am I feeling sorry for myself?
It's my pity party and I'll cry if I want to.