January 7, 2017
I don’t go out anymore. I’m home tonight, a Saturday, and while I should at least be doing homework or cleaning, here I am playing games on the computer and watching country music videos.
I only picked the first song, Keith Urban’s Blue Ain’t Your Color, because it was the first one I saw, and the rest of the songs just followed. Some were easy to get through, but others just plain hurt my heart. You know that feeling, actual pain in your heart.
I miss dancing, I really miss the spark when you meet someone that smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room. I miss ending the night with a smile.
Now, I’ve been married and divorced three times. Certainly, not what I had originally thought my life would be like. But, hey, it happened. And now I’m 49 and alone. I spend a LOT of time by myself. Especially since my surgeries and being laid off work. It’s been a very depressing year to say the least.
Because of all the shit that happened and the depression, I ate. I ate a lot and then I ate some more. I’m very aware that I’m fat, although my friends and family are very diplomatic when they say that I’m not. It’s sweet and I appreciate the sentiment and intention but let’s be real here. I know it’s true.
Maybe I don’t “look” fat to others, but I’m the one that hates getting dressed every day. I mean I hate it. I avoid mirrors. I wear the same thing mostly because I know it will fit. I’m the one that physically hurts when I get dressed or put on my shoes.
I like my personality, even though I’m a work in progress. I love to laugh and I love to smile and be happy. I try every day to be happy about something, but some days that just ain’t happening.
I know all the answers; eat less, exercise more. Go to counseling, you don’t need counseling, take this, don’t take that. It’s overwhelming sometimes. A lot of times I try to just disappear. I love when my people are happy and living their lives. When they are happy I’m happy. But to be honest, I’m envious. I’m jealous. I want those things too. I think people see it as get up and do something, I see it as anxiety to even think about it at this point.
This is the cycle: Want to meet someone, see people, go out, but I’ve gained so much weight that I won’t do it. I don’t need more rejection and heartache. So, I stay home and then people get frustrated so no one asks anymore (can’t blame them). It’s easier to just stay home and then I get so sad that I go to bed.
I miss the person I used to be. I don’t quite know where she went. I know she’s out there, or inside of me somewhere. I am hopeful that someday she’ll come back.
In the meantime, I’ll take one day at a time. Doing things by myself and for myself. Through it all I’ve never given up hope.
For now, my eyes are leaking and Blue Is My Color….