Monday, March 31, 2008

Day 97...weight? Didn't even look...

So, today I'm feeling excited. I'm not totally sure why, except I feel like a weight (ha! pun, pun!) has been lifted off of me this weekend. I've been so BLAH for the last couple of months, and I think I'm emerging from a funk of sorts. I was supposed to have lost like...15 pounds or so by this time of the year (from Jan 1st), and...uh...didn't happen. I'm so tired of being fat... but, interestingly enough, it's not really affecting my self image TOO much...(side note: my son, who is 12, confessed to me that the kids at school call me fat...but he defends me...I felt sad, shed a tear or two, then moved on...I figured they did do that; they're kids and all, but...well, I moved on) I do feel happy that I've lost 40+ pounds in the last 10 months...but...I'd like to keep going, and I've been stuck here since October, y'all. But that's when my stress levels REALLY kicked into high gear, so I'm not surprised. I am hopeful that with this dawning of a new attitude, I'll get back to being a loser.

Yeahhhhhh, I sure hope so...

Happy Monday,


Saturday, March 29, 2008

Day 95...179 as usual!

Today was a bad food day. I'll just leave it at that. Not HORRIBLE, but, pretty gosh darn ugly.

Took my yellow duckling's "boot" off today. His/her foot looks SO much better. It's mostly flat, but...I doubt it will ever be "normal." He/she just also seems to tire out much faster than the black duckling. *sigh* FatMom worries about her babies...but they're both eating and growing quite well. The husband keeps asking me what my "plans" are for the ducks. I'm not sure yet...I DO know I should probably keep them until they're big enough to fend for themselves against older ducks. But I'm already having a stroke thinking about parting from them...

I DID, however, figure out something today... you may recall that I had a screwed up childhood. I don't think I ever formed the cohesive thought of: "geez, no one ever took care of me" and/or "no one ever protected me" until this morning when I was thinking of my ducks, all my animals, my animal rights activism, my veganism, and my love for children...WHY I will stop at NOTHING to protect those who are weak and who are easy targets. It's because I'm trying to right the wrong of my growing up years. I have an insatiable desire to rescue and protect because by doing so, I'm in essence rescuing the little girl I used to be.

How's THAT for some growth? Or, it's all a bunch of arm-chair, pop psychology psychobabble. ha!



Friday, March 28, 2008

Day 94...weight? Steady, steady...

My "babies!" Aren't they soooo cute?? The yellow one has a bum foot...trying to get it fixed up...He/She looks sooo cute trying to run around with the cast that goes "thump, thump, thump" when he/she tries to keep up with his/her brother/sister. *sigh* I'm in looooooveeee!

If you haven't check out my "cyber pal" Tigerlilly's blog, I'd highly recommend it. (link: She's one cool chick. What I like about her is that she acknowledges all the crap she's gone through, all the crap she participated in, and still can stand back and say: Yeah, it was a stinky mess, but...that's done. I think that's where I'm getting stuck. Here's a blurb from her blog today (I hope it's ok that I share...):

We are given one body in this lifetime. Why would we just let it rot? My goal is to be the strongest and healthiest person that I can be.. I may never reach goal...only because there will always be something that I can do to better myself.

Dang...Here's the difference between Tigerlilly and myself: My BRAIN believes statements such as that. I've SAID myself statements such as that. But I can't seem to coordinate my brain and my soul for very long. That's what I'm working on right now. I'm working on the "Fearless Living" plan by Rhonda Britten. I've got all of her books, but I decided to start with the "Change your life in 30 days" book. I've even make a 30 day blog that you can check out if ya feel like it:( I'm trying to see if THAT's where I'm breaking down...that it's the FEAR that's holding me back.

Tigerlilly also mentioned in her latest blog that the thing she's most scared of is that she WILL reach her "goal" weight. Because...well...then what does she have to focus her energy on? I know that feeling all too well. Not exclusively in the realm of weight loss, but...I know that hyper-focused energy that can come from being like a laser pointer locked onto something. I realized that THAT type of focus and energy (for ME) was my way of "running away" from things that were painful to me...keeping my energy so focused on something...nearly to the point of obsession, it made it very convenient for me to pretend everything was ok. So, I can't go back there.

Today holds a visit from my sister in then? Not much. I've been keeping myself pleasantly busy with household projects, organizational issues and my sweet little ducklings!

Have fun, and HAPPY FRIDAY!


Thursday, March 27, 2008

Day 93...weight? The same...

I just read a comment on the ole bloggy here from my new cyber-pal, Tigerlilly. She was commenting on my whiny lament about the pictures that my father in law took on Easter and how I was finding it difficult to see the dramatic truth about how I look...anyhow, this lovely young lady told me she'd had cancer and still let herself "go," despite surgery, recovery and eventual remission (I'm paraphrasing here and hoping I have said details correct). THEN, she had a revelation about becoming healthy and hasn't looked back since.

After I read that, I sat there in stunned brain silence (not something that happens too often for ole FatMom). My first coherent thought after recovering my "voice?" That THAT is one tough cookie. My second thought? That I'm a whiny, lazy loser (and "loser" as in not in a good "loser" way). My third thought? What the *%#@ is WRONG with me? I have NO reason not to work as hard as I can and become as healthy as I can.

Oh, wait...I realized then that I DID have a reason...see, I realized that in order for my BODY to be healthy, my MIND has to be healthy. I've come a long way, though...I gained a lot of mental fitness while I lost a lot of weight. I've grown AS a person while I've lost a lot OF my person. But...I'm not totally healthy in the mind department with regards to my self-image. Better, yes, healthy as a person CAN be? No, not yet. I'm not sure one can have a healthy body without a healthy mind first, because you'll keep sabotaging yourself because you don't LIKE yourself (what a tangled web we weave...) I think THAT may be the reason I've stopped losing weight. I've been stuck in the high 170's for 5 months now. I realize I'm "stuck" because I've made sure to STAY "stuck."

See, stripping away the many layers of fat reveals the pain that layered on the fat in the first place. If fat really is a protective layer in the metaphorical sense, then taking it away means that I will be vulnerable. That my LIFE will become vulnerable. And it HAS become vulnerable. I'm on the verge of possible family break up because I couldn't breathe anymore. I couldn't BREATHE, so I had to open my mouth. Except NOW, instead of putting FOOD in my mouth, I let WORDS come OUT of my mouth. True words, changing words.

I got fat because I was in a lot of pain. The fat masked much of that pain. Once I started peeling away the layers, I realized how much pain I was in and didn't think I could continue living that way any longer. So, I spoke. Oops...scary stuff happens when I speak and let my TRUE feelings come to the surface. Now my words are punishing me, in effect. Of course, then, my natural inclination is to eat to "stop" the words. Which is what I've been doing the last 5 months. Eating just enough to keep me stuck so that I don't peel away more layers. Eating just enough so that my pain is not INCREASED. Eating just enough so that I have time to acclimate to this new way of living.

I got some books by Ronda Brittan (sp??) called the "Fearless Living" series. I've just started it, but, her premise is that we're held back by FEAR. I don't want to be held back anymore, and this gal may be just the person to help me deal with my fear. She had a major, traumatic, forever-life-altering experience when she was a teen, and I figure...jeez, if she can overcome THAT, then surely I can overcome my garden variety fears, right?


Onward, my friends~


P.S.: A quickie cyber "high five" for my pal Kim! She has come SO far and I'm so proud of her! I've "watched" her pummel her scale with sheer determination and I'm so thrilled...a wee bit jealous, but...jealous in a good way. GOOOOOOOOOOOO, Kim!!!

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Day 91...still...

I forgot to tell y'all...must be my lack of sleep due to ducklings...

On Easter, I allowed my professional photographer father in law to take some photos of me with the kids and husband. Let me tell a fatty, I avoid photos at ALL costs. I will go to extraordinary lengths to avoid the camera. Why? Because the camera does NOT add pounds, it just makes it so you cannot deny the truth. A photo tells you the whole dirty story. And I read mine on Sunday. I did not look horrid, so that IS an improvement, but...well, I didn't really like how I looked. It reminded me I still need to lose at least 20 more pounds, preferably more like 30-40. It also confirmed that Botox is likely to be on the agenda before too long. I also realized that I'm just not that pretty, y'all...that's a toughie to face (ha, there's a PUN in there!). Maybe that's why I cry so much when I watch Extreme Makeover...

Just thought I'd share those camera thoughts with ya, and, the victory I felt when not only did I ALLOW photos to be taken, but then I actually had the COURAGE to LOOK at the photos afterwards. The husband even wants to get some printed and FRAMED. EEKS...don't know about all that, now...

Big love,


Day 91...still 179...*sigh*

My other "baby" hatched yesterday afternoon. This one (Doodles) is more browinish than yellow like #1 is (Peach, though I call Peach "Easter" because he/she was born on Easter). Looks like Easter has a bum foot (lame duck!). I contacted a vet, and she indicated that that's pretty common when the incubators experience too much fluctuation in temperature. Dang it! She said they get along just fine in life, though they may need to be watched to make sure they get enough food/water because they may get picked on by the others... Anyhow, I've been enjoying these little peepers so much! I did call my co-teacher and asked if she ate the fowl she keeps, and she insisted no, she does not...phew! So now I can feel ok (not great, but ok) with this whole rigmarole. I think I shall make it my mission in life to try and get teachers to stop using animals in the classroom! Both as "pets" and as "educational materials." Gawd, I hate that. Don't get me started...

ANY-way, I've enjoyed the distraction of the ducklings, though. Funny how we can start to obsess on the details of our life if we don't have enough proper distractions to pull us out of ourselves. I know I fall into mild depression when I don't have a "campaign" to work on. I get into trouble when I have too much time to THINK.

I've got my ADD class tonight (followed by a concert with my sister...whooo-hooo!!)...trying to learn as much as I can to help my daughter (and my students) cope and excel in spite of AD/HD. I feel that once the AD/HD is diagnosed and treatments are started (whether it be medication or not), AD/HD can be a significant gift. Right now, though, daughter feels it is a curse. Last night she was in tears telling me about how hard it is to have ADD, how difficult it is to simply function and that it is a challenge for her to be 'happy.' Wow, I knew a lot of AD/HD kids suffered from depression, amongst other things, but...I'd hoped we'd had enough discussions to possibly bypass a lot of those feelings of despair. I don't candy-coat her difficulties with her, per se, and I don't tell her she's going to be "normal" ever in her life. I DO tell her that we can learn how SHE learns, and that she can learn to excel, not just in spite of, but BECAUSE of her ADD. I worry about her until I could throw up. I love that her brain is not "typical" and I tell her that. Being "normal" and like everyone else is BORING. I want her to embrace herself, but at 11 years old, you just want to be the same as everyone else. I understand. But my baby is not just another brick in the wall, a la Pink Floyd. I KNOW she is going to lead a very substantial life. She is very much her own girl...SO independent and amazingly talented...but, when she needs me, my arms will always be right here to pull her close when she needs it.

Fuzzy Duckling Nuzzles,


Monday, March 24, 2008

Day 90...weight? About the same...

I'm a new mommie!!! My 2nd/3rd grade students decided to incubate duck eggs, and, well...I'm not too excited about know me, animal rights activist and all that...I cannot STAND the exploitation of animals in any way...ok, off the ole soap box...ANY-way, one of my co-teachers set this all up and, smart as she is (seriously), she didn't think to check a calendar to see WHEN these eggs would hatch (right in the middle of our spring break, therefore making the ENTIRE project COMPLETELY useless). So, I volunteered to take the incubator home because I am self centered in only one manner...and that's that I think I'm the best person to care for animals. I put their care before my own in all situations, and...well, I only trust myself to care for the innocent creatures. That all being said, these eggs have been sitting in my home office now for about 10 days. The calendar told me they were supposed to hatch on Easter (ironic, huh?), and sure enough, one baby poked its way out last night about 10 p.m. Another one started about midnight, but I've seen no progress since then. Gosh, I hope it lives! (oh, that was weird! Just as I wrote that, it started pecking again out of its egg!!)

When taking said eggs home I said to the co-teacher: Ummm...I have NO idea how to care for baby ducks... She said: call me, and I'll pick them up. Ok, sounds good, considering these eggs came from her "mini farm," and she raises ducks. I'm terrified...does she EAT these ducks? I can't give them to her if she's just going to EAT them...I'll need to figure that out before I give them to her...I'd rather take them to a wildlife rehabber.

Oh, great...why do I get myself into these messes??

Friday, March 21, 2008

Day 87...Still at 179~

I've been spending a lot of time thinking lately. Must be the time off of work and all the fence painting I'm doing...there's something to be said for manual labor...kind of like soon as you find your rhythm, your mind is free to wander. I've found it to be very relaxing out in the beautiful 70 degree weather...just me and the birds singing...ANY-who...I recently watched a show on, I believe, NatGeo, where they were exploring the world under the ground of our every day lives. They toured the labyrinth of sewer systems in Dublin, IR (did ya know, "Dublin" means "dark pool?" Just a little tidbit there for ya from the teacher in FatMom)...very pretty sewer system. Lots of brick work...quite lovely.

They also toured some cave-like structures in another part of Ireland...where??? Don't recall that, but people 4500 years ago (!!!) built these rock tunnels and chambers on top of the ground, using only mortar... then covered them with mounds of dirt to look like a "simple" hill. These tombs were "built" 500 years BEFORE Stonehenge! That's so crazy cool! And they're still in pristine condition! So, anyhow, after they built these tombs, they piled the dirt on top of them and it wasn't until just recently that they were discovered. People thought "oh, that's a nice hill," not knowing it was a manufactured landscape! Experts surmised that the tombs were built to protect villagers from marauding bands.

But the one that really fascinated me was the tour of the caves in Dowd, IR. These naturally existing caves were likely also hiding places for villagers from the Vikings. Seems those Vikings were some nasty people! In one section of the cave, they found bones carbon dated back 1000 years ago...bones of women and children. See it appears that the Vikings had a very lucrative slave business in Europe. They'd snatch up teenage boys and women and sell them to powerful and rich persons throughout Europe, especially in the Roman and Greek empires (after they castrated the young men...ewwww). So, when the Vikings were coming for a visit to your village, they didn't just want some tea and cookies. Archaeologists think that the women and children who hid in the cave were in essence smothered to death, as the Vikings likely tried to smoke them out, thereby denying the air of oxygen. I suppose it'd be better to die that way than at the hands of the Vikings. Another interesting side note...the word "slave" comes from the word "Slavic," since a HUGE proportion of slaves the Vikings snatched were of Slavic origin. You know, just in case you're ever on Jeopardy! or something like that...

Can you imagine? How our lives have changed. We don't have to worry about bands of marauding Vikings anymore, blazing into town to steal our sons, killing our husbands, raping our daughters...or do we? Maybe life can be just as scary, except it's not Vikings, it's just life in general that destroys us.

My son's best friend's neighbor was just murdered by her boyfriend. A father in our locality just attacked his girlfriend with an ax and then kidnapped their 2 year old son and killed him with a screwdriver. We've had 3 home invasion robberies in my VERY SMALL, VERY NICE neighborhood (that's maybe one square mile in size) in the last 2 months. An acquaintance just blew his head off with a 12 gauge shotgun the other day in his home with his bride in the other room; he was apparently abusing prescription drugs. My daughter's best friend, who just turned 11, was diagnosed with a degenerative disease and 2 brain tumors.

I just want to keep my kids safe and healthy. When my kids were very small babies, I thought: Man, THIS is the hard stuff! Then, they got older and I realized that babies are not difficult. That's reactionary parenting...they cry, you run through a list of what could the the issue and most likely, you'll figure it out. I was able to nearly completely control their atmosphere. Now, I can't. I still do to a large degree, but I know that that door is rapidly closing. I've spent their whole lives (11 years and nearly 13 years) trying to teach them many lessons, but I think the MAIN theme tying them all together is this: Respect yourself and others around you. It seemed to me that if one 'respected' themselves, they would avoid many of the pitfalls of life than can lead to precarious living conditions. If one has 'respect' for themselves, they are likely to resist drugs, alcoholism, abusive relationships, dead end jobs, etc...things that can lead to a lifestyle that is not safe.

So I started pondering this idea of "safety," while painting. Safety is a big concern for me; always has been. It's been a rare feeling for me my whole life. Growing up, I lived in a somewhat rural area. We didn't have a lot of things growing up, but one minor (and yet significant thing to ME, was that) we didn't have any window coverings. (I guess you don't think it's necessary when half of your windows are broken and have been for YEARS...) At night, when I'd be falling asleep, I could look out my window and only see blackness. I was always sure I'd be looking out there at one point and see a pair of eyes staring back at me...I referred to our land as "ax murderer country." We could all be killed and no one would know FOR DAYS!

Blah, I digress...I have rarely felt completely "relaxed" and "safe." Is it because I'm female? A mother? And thus the most vulnerable of the group? Trust me, it's not just because I live in a city that has it's fair share of crime, because I KNOW statistically speaking, it is rare that violent crime is a completely random thing. Car break ins? Yes, random. Murder? Usually not... it's the family member who does it, or it's drug related, or some other 'lifestyle' situation. So, it's not that...maybe it's the whole "out of control" thing. I've been accused of being a control freak by my husband. Maybe...maybe not...but I do know that I don't like that out of control feeling, which may explain why I've NEVER done drugs (seriously, folks), and why I've not drank more than 2-3 drinks in a row since my 23rd birthday. Maybe I feel so unable to control so many things in my life that I feel compelled to control the only thing I possibly can 100%, which is me. That would likely explain my eating disorders.

Whew...I'll bet all of faithful readers (all 3 of you!) would really like me to go back to work and stop thinking (and writing) so much!! Sorry....2 more weeks of this then it'll be back to normal!

All the best,


Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Day 85...179 today~

Yesterday I was doing some errands, and I was sitting at a stoplight. I live in a large, metropolitan city here in beautiful Northern California, and I'm sorry to say, the homeless panhandlers are a common sight here, depending on which neighborhood you happen to be in at any given moment. ANYway, I have to tell you that I worked at a homeless shelter for quite a number of years and enjoyed my job a lot. It was a shelter that assisted women and children only, though we were affiliated with a very well known "general homeless population" assistance group. I got to know the ins and outs of homelessness, the reasons for it, the effects of it, etc...and I need to tell you, in my PERSONAL opinion, there were very few cases of "bad luck" or "unfortunate events" that lead to most people's homelessness. Typically it is simply bad decisions. Decisions about going back with that abusive boyfriend, drug addiction, alcoholism, allowing your husband to use your home as a drug acquisition mecca, and on and on. It is NOT usually because your company was downsized over night, or you defaulted on your mortgage because your child became ill. It's usually a series of bad decisions. And, a fairly decent amount of the time, it involves untreated mental illness. I used to give the homeless money when they asked, and stopped when I started noticing them taking my money and NOT going to McDonald's for something to eat, but rather to the corner Quickie Liquor and boozing it up. Now I simply donate to reputable organizations or I donate items for them to use.

Wow, I digress...back to the original story... So, I see this guy. He's VERY well dressed. Shirt tucked in, not wrinkled. Very neat, clean looking. His sign is carefully lettered. He's an older guy...maybe in his later 50's, gray hair. Clean shaven. Looked like he could be my dad or the grandfather of one of my students. I wondered for a second if he really WAS homeless, or if he was one of those losers who PRETENDS to be homeless because he makes more money on the street than he does cashiering at his job at WalMart. Or, is he one of those guys who does an expose on the homeless and he's simply "acting?"

But then I saw his eyes. The homeless have a particular way of scanning a crowd of cars waiting at the stoplights. They scan very quickly and with their eyes almost downcast, never hovering for more than a split second over any particular vehicle. I don't mean this in a derogatory manner, but they remind me of my dog when we're eating something he finds particularly tasty and he keeps looking up to see if I'm going to offer him any. He doesn't want to seem like he's begging, but he really wants if he plays it cool, maybe he'll get tossed some. That's what this guy reminded me of. Needy, but shy. Hurting, but patient. Just wanting to get through the day.

I started to cry. What was this guy's story? What happened to this guy who looked like he could have been an executive just a short time ago...heck even yesterday? Is he mentally ill? Did his wife dump him into the street because he's an alcoholic? Does he have children? Where does he sleep? What does he dream about? Is he happy? Does he REALLY want a different life?

I cried because I realized so many things in those 2 minute sitting at that light. I realized he and I were really not that different. I have a place to sleep each day and plenty to eat; I don't worry about my safety...but we're both missing vital elements in our life. What are the basic human needs? Food, shelter, safety? Is that it? Then, after that...our mind can worry about other things, such as companionship, belief in a higher power, etc...but we can't think of all that until the basic needs are met. My basic needs are really not being met, therefore I can't really think of anything else. I've got the food, yes, and I've got the literal "shelter/safety"...but I don't have the figurative "shelter" and "safety."

That's what I'm working on. And that guy? Still thinking about him...if I see him again, I might just take him to McDonald's and buy him a (disgusting) quarter pounder and talk to him for a while. I'll bet he'd have some wisdom for ole FatMom. Probably tell me to stop being such a baby and enjoy all that I have.

More stuff to ponder whilst I FINISH that blasted fence today~


Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Day 84...Ok, I'm at 180...

NOTE: VERY controversial subject matter. Read if you want...but you've been warned...

Yesterday was a hard day. I spent a lot of time reflecting on the state of my self and my marriage. Our marriage counselor asked us to write out two different items:

Number 1: write out, in detail, what we think it would be like to

a) stay together and "make it work"

b) stay together with the express understanding we'd be living

'parallel' lives in the hopes we're doing the best thing for the kids

c) separate with the intention of divorce

Number 2: write out, in detail, what we think we'd like in a mate; all the qualities

we believe to be important to us...e.g.: personality traits, hobbies,

sexual habits, etc...

I've been considering these items in my head the last couple of weeks since our appointment. I've been trying to do an outline in my head before I put fingers to keyboard. Because I haven't written a book yet, the husband thinks I'm stalling in an effort to allow us to slide back into our untitled "paralleled/roommates" lives. Wrong. He's super anxious for me to give him an ANSWER: stay together and TRULY make it work, or, get divorced. ("roommates," for the kids's sake is a scenario he won't even THINK about, so that eliminates one option for us--less "homework," eh?) He's chomping at the bit, ready to zoom out there and find himself another woman who will fulfill all of his needs. I'm not joking here, friends. He's felt so unfulfilled romantically for so long, he just is busting at the seams to have someone love him in the manner he wants. That's fine. I understand. But I'm not going to take 2 weeks to decide what to do with a 17 year relationship, and, more importantly, the lives of two innocent kids. I WILL take my time and make a CAREFUL inventory to try and come up with the "best" answer. But he's very pushy. All the while saying he LOVES me and he wants to be with ME. Hmmm...

Ok, so I'm guessing these two "assignments" may not sound too difficult, especially the one where we write out what we think makes an "ideal" mate for us, but, let me tell you, this is VERY difficult for me because I have NO idea what I'd like in a mate. I know what I DON'T like in the one I chose, but is that the same thing?

The husband sent me a "relationship survey..." a type of questionnaire where you answer a variety of questions relating to (drum roll) your relationship. Questions such as: what type of hobbies or leisure activities do you enjoy as a person, and what type of activities do you enjoy as a couple? Who handles the finances and how is the division of household labor divided? That type of stuff. It was all very dry and straight forward until I got to the question that said: Life Traumas: Past & present grief, loss, death issues, divorce, separation, molest/rape? Well, FatMom friends, I practically wrote a book there. And I cried the ENTIRE time. Is this where my "issues" can be traced back to? As you may be able to guess, my childhood was a &%*#ed up mess. While it is still very painful, I don't blame anyone. But I do wonder how it affects my life and my marriage today. I wonder how watching my mom have one abusive relationship and one relationship where they simply co-existed has affected me. I'm sure that having two alcoholic dads has colored my view of the husband's alcohol consumption quite a bit. I also wonder how having a mother who was absolutely DEVOID of emotion has affected me. I loved my mother so much, and I still do...I think of her daily...but I'm an honest person: she wasn't a good mother, but she did the best she could with what she had available to her. She was a person...not a fictional character and she had a lot of flaws. And that's ok. Am I screwed up because my dad molested me? Then, completely rejected me? (I haven't even spoken to him since I was 18; his choice) Perhaps it's because I've always felt as if people use me, and I let them because I just want to be LOVED.

Or is it because I had an abortion when I was 22? Friends, let me tell you in plain English: THAT single event destroyed me for the next 10 plus years on a DAILY basis. I'd never really liked myself all that much up until that point, but I was just learning to when I discovered I was pregnant. I was just learning to respect myself and make healthy decisions based in reality and not emotion. But, ya see...the (future) husband and I were dating at that point for a year. He'd just broken up with me a few months earlier for a nebulous reason, which turned out to be another girl, but...I don't want to get off track...we got back together a few months later, and whammo! I must have gotten pregnant the first time we had sex. How? Besides the obvious, I don't know how. I was always very careful about birth control. But it happened. So, when I found out I was pregnant, I knew I couldn't have the baby because what mattered most to me at that point was keeping my relationship with the future husband together. I knew if we had the stress of a pregnancy and birth at 22 (remember he already HAD a 2 year old and a fresh divorce under his belt at that tender age) we'd never survive. So, I had an abortion.

He never said a word about it. I felt as if he pretended nothing was going on. I'm guessing he was having deja vu...3 years earlier his girlfriend told him she was pregnant, and he married her so they could provide a "legitimate" family for the child. I'm guessing he was freaked out and didn't want to do THAT again, so, he stayed silent. Didn't say one FREAKING word.

I just wanted my "body" back, and wanted to have the abortion as quickly as possible so that I could forget about it. I counted down the days. Then, I did it. I remember practically skipping out of the clinic, deliriously happy it was over. Over the course of the previous month, I'd entertained the option of having the baby and raising it with the (future) husband, but knowing that wouldn't work out, because there's no WAY we could survive such a stressful situation. I thought about just raising it on my own. My family would help. But in the end, I decided my relationship was more important than a child's life.

A couple of days after the abortion, a wave of realization came over me: I killed my baby.

That thought haunted me and tortured me mentally, physically, spiritually and emotionally on a DAILY basis for 15+ years. The depth of my self-hatred could not be described. I was the lowest of the low to kill my child. I didn't deserve to be happy. Jeez, I didn't deserve to live myself. Those particular thoughts weren't really solid in my brain, I just couldn't believe I could do such a thing. I was a "good" person. I wouldn't hurt anyone; I wouldn't lie or cheat or steal. I picked up trash on the street, even if it wasn't mine. I saved injured animals. I wrote poetry and grew flowers. I bought gifts for homeless children. And yet I killed my baby.

That, FatMom friends, was the singular most traumatic event of my life; it was truly the unravelling of my psyche for many years. While I have not forgiven myself, I have learned to live with the guilt. And, do you know, the husband and I have NEVER talked about this, save for one TINY sentence about 8 months after the abortion when he said: "Gosh, I wish we hadn't done that." I recall my response: "You tell me this NOW? After I've tortured myself for 8 months?" More pain flooded in at that moment. It took a loooooong time to learn to live with that...Oh, wait...we did touch on the subject again a few years later when I found out I was pregnant with our second child, our daughter. The husband agreed to have our son the previous year, but didn't want more children (our son made #2 for him). So, he had a vasectomy. I supported the decision, but...I wanted to have more than one child, least I got one of my own... well, the vasectomy wasn't a total success, and we knew that. We continued to have sex unprotected and I wasn't worried because a) the doctor said the husband was 'technically' infertile...though there were a few live sperm and I COULD get pregnant, and b) it was no secret that I wanted to have one more child. The morning he said: Wife, I don't want to have another baby; we have to use birth control until I can get another vasectomy, I had a feeling I was already pregnant. And, yes I was. When I told him, he said: Wife, I DO NOT want to have another baby. I said: Husband, I know you don't. He looked at me again and said....No, you don't understand, I DON'T want to have another baby (meaning: have an abortion). My eyes flew open wide and I said: I will NOT do THAT again. You can leave and never come back, but I will NOT do that again; I cannot live through that again.

So, he just didn't talk to me for 3 weeks and I spent the whole of the pregnancy quiet and not wanting to share any of it with him (though he wouldn't have wanted to hear of anything anyways, considering he didn't even care about the first one he said he WANTED to have)...and I've spent the kids' whole lives feeling like they were MY responsibility because I wanted them. Kind of like a dog, I guess...he loves them, no doubt. But he would have been perfectly happy having none of them.

But to back up slightly, it was around the time of the abortion that I really began overeating. You may recall that I was anorexic before, and that even in the young adult years (say 19-21), I would revert to anorexia on periodic occasions. But, I suppose...I couldn't partake in anorexia anymore at that point in my life because when I was thin, people (read: everyone, but especially men) found me attractive. And when people find others attractive, good things tend to happen to them. Well, I couldn't LET good things happen to me. I needed to do what I could to ensure BAD things happened to me, and everyone knows fatties are mistreated, ignored, misunderstood, and taken for granted.

And that was my life until I was around 29. Then I became seriously depressed because my mind was growing tired of pushing my true feelings down. My mind was wanting to LIVE. What's depression? (everyone together, now: depression is anger turned inwards) Too painful. Bring on the medication. After a couple of years of that, I just (subconsciously) decided: this isn't the life I want to live, but I made my bed, so...get comfy! So I did. Still continuing to overeat to soothe myself. I didn't like being fat, but I couldn't muster up enough energy to do anything about it.

Yet again, the mind is a powerful thing. My mind knew I could be better. So I (mostly) stopped overeating, started exercising and enjoying my life. I realized no one was going to make it better for me, so I had to do it myself. And I have.

Except now, I'm in a mess because my marriage, and the person I chose to be my spouse, was a mistake. The husband isn't a bad person, he's just not what I would have chosen if I were older than I was at the time (21), and if I actually LIKED myself. But now we have two kids, and how do you do that to them? I already destroyed one child's can I do that to two more?

Can I "make it work" with the husband? Setting the kids aside for a moment, do I want to make it work? We're vastly different it possible to have it work? Or would I just be ignoring my true feelings again? That's not fair to either of us. But, yet again, it's the kids who are my focus. What do I want in a spouse? The romantic/sexual part is the most difficult aspect for me to define, because I've become SO out of touch with my romantic/sexual side for SO long, I feel like I don't need that in my relationship. But is that REALLY true? Or do I just not feel that I need it with the husband? Would it be different with someone else? There's no way to know without getting divorced. Is sex/intimacy important to me right now? No way. Did it used to be? Oh, yeah. What changed? Can I get it back? Or is it really ME now...did I change because I got older? Did I lose my "romance" gene? How does one get their "mojo" back INSIDE of a damaged marriage, anyhow?

These are the deep questions I am to ponder today while I paint our backyard fence.



Monday, March 17, 2008

Day 83...I know what the weight is, but I'm not gonna say it!

Yes, I AM a little down today. And yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, and the day before...have you ever gone to the doctor and said: "please check this...I really think something is wrong..." And they do, and they say: "no, everything looks great." Then you leave, and you start to think you're nuts, but then you go to ANOTHER doctor because you just can't get rid of the nagging feeling something isn't right...and you ask the same question, and they ALSO tell you it's ok. So, you go to yet another doctor, while feeling crazy, mind you, and ask the SAME thing. And, guess what...they say the same thing: the issue you're talking about is MINOR, and you just need to learn to live with it and quit fighting it.

THAT is the story of my life, friends. Me, constantly feeling like something is wrong, but I can't quite put my finger on EXACTLY what it is, so I'm left feeling like I'm crazy...trying to IGNORE the nagging voices that drone on and on about how things are NOT ok...I was watching a show the other night on t.v. about trans-gender people. If you're unaware, these are people born biologically male or female, but knowing from preschool-ish age that they are the OPPOSITE sex. Meaning: they're technically male, for instance, but they FEEL female inside. They're attracted to men, but are not homosexual. They've simply been assigned the wrong genitalia. So, they try to pretend it's not true. They marry women, join the military, have kids, etc...all the while having to work SO hard to push their true selves back inside due to public scrutiny, family obligations and the like. But then they get to a point where (a lot of them) decide: I can't live like this. I would rather die than continue to live this lie.

No, I am not trans-gender. But I understand the feeling of being so overwhelmed by your true self's voice begging, pleading, crying, screaming...I try to shut out the voices by overeating. Or undereating. Or not exercising. Or by overexercising. Because the truth is too painful to deal with, I shift focus. But I can only do that for so long, because I AM NOT CRAZY. The human mind is a very powerful thing. It can trick us for quite a long time. But, then, I believe, our will to live becomes even more powerful than our mind, and our survival mode brain kicks in. Self preservation and all that, I suppose.

Can I tell you all something very, very personal? I've never even told my therapist about this...I'm too scared...Back in the late 90's and early 2000's, I was VERY depressed. I was quite functional, on a basic level, meaning I got up every day, I brushed my teeth, went to work, cooked dinner for my family, took my kids to the park, etc... but I was dead inside. I knew something was very wrong. I thought of suicide on a regular basis. I thought: I love my kids so much, I don't want them growing up with a mother who is so *&#$ed up. My first thoughts were: I could just walk away. Literally, just walk away if we were all out as a family together in a very crowded place, I could tell my husband I was going to the bathroom, and then just walk away. But then I realized that would be so mean to my kids. They'd constantly be wondering where I went. Was I alive? Dead? Why did I abandon them? They'd be looking for me their whole lives. Couldn't do that. Then I literally prayed for an illness to kill me. They couldn't be mad at me then. It would just be a sad thing that happened. But that phase didn't last too long, either, having grown up with a chronically, terminally ill parent myself...knew I couldn't put them through that kind of suffering.

SO, I concluded that suicide would be the best choice. But I'd have to make it look like a total accident. Knew I couldn't do it at home (creepy!), and I also knew I couldn't hurt anyone else in the process of taking myself out, so...hmmm...what to do, what to do...I finally concluded that single car accident would be the best choice. I'd be driving and my mind would wander...I could just hit the gas pedal and drive right into that huge tree right there. But is that one big enough? How fast would I need to be going to ensure I'd die? Because I knew I didn't want to be paralyzed. Or in a coma for 20 years. Jeez, that'd be worse than just plain old living to me.

In the end, of course, I didn't do a thing. Except get on antidepressants.

So, here I am, about 8 years later. I took those nasty pills for a couple of years. My husband called them my "happy pills." I thought of them as my "these-things-make-it-so-much-easier- to-pretend-everything-is-ok-pills." WHY was I so depressed? WHY have/had I eaten myself into extreme overweight? Because my whole life I've had to ignore the voice inside of me that kept/keeps telling me it is NOT ok.

At nearly 38, I've finally decided to listen to the voice. Things are not ok. It is not ok for me to not live a happy, fulfilled life. I AM a good person. I DO deserve to be happy. It's OK for me to stop torturing my body and mind. I DO NOT need to keep punishing myself. I CAN like myself.

I know that, friends, but why can't I embrace it? Why is it so hard? It sounds simple.

I had such high hopes the day I graduated from high school twenty years ago. I knew I could finally live the live I wanted, but couldn't growing up how I did. I started to do it, then, I drifted off course. The old habits returned, my comfort zone beckoned...and I slid right back into it. My kids are my greatest gift to myself and to the world. But I can't live vicariously through them. I can't burden them with all that I had wished I could be. I want to live the second half of my life with the vitality that I know I'm capable of. But I've dug myself into a massive hole and now I'm trying to fight and claw my way out of the hole I've dug.

Sorry to be so depressing today. It's such a process to work through all this crap. Sometimes I wish I could just a take a month and go live in the woods with a therapist and get it all done at once! Trying to work though everything while having to pretend to the outside world that life is all peaches and cream is very tiring. And very long (winded)!

Enjoy this pretty day,


Friday, March 14, 2008

Day 80...weight? UP!

I am really struggling with so many things right now. Guess what? It's my MOUTH that got me into each one of these miseries.



Monday, March 10, 2008

Day 76...weight? Unknown

Ok, so I have a SERIOUS question:

Why, when I weigh myself first thing in morning...and say that weight is 180 pounds...WHY do I actually weigh less an hour later, even after I've had a half a cup of tea or coffee? And, HOW can I weigh the SAME at 4 p.m. as I did at 6:30 a.m. after I've eaten and drank all day...AND then HOW can I wake up in the morning and STILL be the SAME, too??


See, THIS is what I obsess about. Don't you wish you were me? Gosh, I need a REAL hobby!



Thursday, March 6, 2008

Day 72...177 pounds

Seems as if 177 is my best friend. The one I can't live without. My loving twin. *sigh* I'd like to see it GO, though. I'm tired of 177. So, here's my "Dear John" letter to 177:

Dear 177 pounds:

It was great seeing you, and wow, have I seen you OFTEN the last few weeks, but...well, it's really time for me to start seeing different, smaller numbers. See, I work really hard (most of the time) to get lower numbers and,'re just not what I want anymore. I'm growing smaller, and, well...hmmm...this is hard, because I so appreciated you,'s over. We're done. Just remember, though, it's not you, it's me. Wait a minute, it IS you! Good riddance! You weren't all that fun anyhow; I take back all that nice stuff I said earlier.



Have fun today, friends~


Monday, March 3, 2008

Day 69...Weight? Let's not mention it...

So, food weekend was a blast! But you know what? I was really happy to get back to healthy eating this morning. It actually stresses me out when I'm not eating correctly. Now, not eating healthy for one meal is psychological collateral damage involved, but, when I do it for 48 hours straight? Well, it stresses me out. Therefore, happy to get back on track this morning. OH, and at one point, I was sitting on the couch thinking: What the f*** am I doing?! I got a little teary, then, just moved on!

Any-WHO, it's done. Put some new songs on my iPod over the weekend, and I rocked it at the gym today. Fun stuff!!!

Weight? Well, I think I paid for that little 48 hours of indiscretion, but...I'm sure it's mostly water, and it'll hit the road in a day or two.

Here's a little "shout out" to my cyber-friend FATINAH: You ROCK! You and Kim are my biggest inspirations...keep up the positive attitude!

Big love,


Saturday, March 1, 2008

Day 67...weight? Unknown...

It's a FOOD WEEKEND, my friends! I have one every once in a while, and I don't feel guilty about it. Not going totally "Brittany-Spears-Crazy," but...maybe just "Shirley-MacLaine-Crazy."

Have fun...I know I will!

Oodles of Toodles,