Eating Wrong

Writing this blog has really forced me to think through a lot of my actions. Analyzing why I do the things I do. It's funny that I contemplate all week what I'll be writing about on Sunday and it doesn't come together until I sit down to put the words in place.

I thought I'd be writing about the fact that I've really been off my game this week. I haven't felt like myself in many ways. Some ways, yes. I got through the week at work okay (slightly off there)... I enjoyed time with friends and my special someone... but when I got into my own time I was just sluggish. I went to the gym on Monday and that was it (I went yesterday and today, so don't give me that look). It snowed here in New Hampshire so I could say that is why I didn't want to venture out, but that's a lie.

I ate a lot of terrible things this week. Because of the snow, a meeting was canceled last minute but the little desserts that were ordered still had to be paid for, so we scored them in the office. I definitely ate my share of them off of a coworker's desk. He was at least kind enough to not offer me any, since he knew I tried not to eat that kind of thing. Let's also mention all the candy runs I've been making and all of the Girl Scout cookies I've been eating. Last week I had a gain and that made me sad. This week despite all the chocolate and little desserts, I've nearly gotten it all back off. I think I might be slowly approaching a plateau, which honestly, I'm surprised it took this long. 4 months of solid weight coming off. It's about time to slow down. But 5-6 lbs away from my goal, to me, is a pretty awful place to slow down.

So what's wrong with me? I didn't know until today. It actually reminds me of an episode of Grey's Anatomy (you know, back when I actually watched the show) when a woman had what looked like a heart attack every year for several years and it just so happened to coincide with the date that her lover died.

I have a couple days in the year like this and I guess, without knowing, I've managed to make myself another one. I get this way during January despite the fact that I was an infant when my mother died. I can't actually remember the date my grandmother died because I was so confused and upset, which I guess is a blessing, despite the fact that it keeps me from grieving correctly.

March 4^th was the day I told my husband I wanted a divorce.

And it feels like it was forever ago. But it wasn't. It was three years ago. But I don't want to talk about all I've accomplished since then because that isn't what hurts me. What hurts me is that I failed. I failed so miserably at something that is supposed to be so important. And for all the things he did that slowly made me dislike him and made me fall out of love with him (if I was ever in love) and gave me the desire to walk away... I'm still the one that gave up. And I hurt him. I remember the look on his face and the way he'd move toward me like he was allowed to kiss me still; but he wasn't.

I remember we used to say “I love you” so much that we came up with a one syllable phrase to replace that phrase because it had already gotten so old in our mouths. Rather than a phrase to keep holy on my tongue until a moment came where it needed to be said, it felt like saying “hello, how are you?” to the greeter at Wal-Mart. Just a sound to break the silence. I wonder if he noticed that.

I'm sure his life is better now, just like mine is better now. But today, remembering everything that I try to forget. It hurts.

I had thought about breaking the engagement. I can remember the moment perfectly. Probably many brides have this moment but then they go on to have perfectly happy marriages. I made everything for the wedding by hand (yea, crafty bitch) and I just wanted him to tell me that it was nice. That's all I wanted. But he blew me off and made me feel terrible, like all the things I could control were just meaningless. And the only thing I had in reach that wouldn't break was one of those little cups that you use to take cough medicine... I threw one of those at him. And I wanted to get away right then. But I didn't because so much had already been done. If I could give engaged women (and men too, for that matter) only one piece of advice... go with your gut. Nothing should make you feel like you never want to see your spouse-to-be again. If you get that feeling, I don't care if the wedding is tomorrow and you put down a $20,000 deposit on the venue that you'll lose. Just walk away.

Because now, no matter what happens with the rest of my life as far as relationships go, I've been divorced. And I'll always question marriage for myself. I always describe marriage as “too hard.” It's not that I'm not capable of doing things that are difficult; I hope I've proved that much from slowly working off 61-ish pounds from my person. I think what makes it difficult for me is how easy it is for me to compromise myself. I'm easily taken advantage of because I so easily put others first. Then when I grow weary of that, I get selfish; I get selfish all at once because I've deprived myself of what I want for so long. Maybe it's not as hard as it looks when you find someone who doesn't need you to comprise for them. When someone loves you the way you are. When someone will put you first for a little while in return.

I think I've grown past compromising. I never want to do it again, and I've done it so many times, with my marriage and with little relationships that I had to try so hard to milk anything out of for myself.

This all goes back to eating for me. I lost about 32 lbs before I left my husband. There were so many things that made me go but I think controlling my own body for a change might have helped me gain some strength.

Talking about it has helped a little.

But I can't bring myself to do anything today.

And maybe that's okay. Maybe I'm allowed to grieve. Things are allowed to slow down. Maybe we all need moments of humility and contemplation and accepting the notion that, though we try very hard, we can't do everything at once. Sometimes one thing needs more of your attention. So I'll let myself have today. And I won't get upset with myself if I don't do the dishes, or if I don't make my recipes today (one is super fast so I could technically make it at work tomorrow), or if I don't do my laundry.

I just wish I knew a way, other than a bottle of wine, that would make my brain stop. My memory is fantastic when I remember fantastic things. Right now, not so much.