Instead of writing something, I’m sitting here paralyzed at the thought of what I’m going to write. Already trying to sabotage this blog. In a nutshell, they say.
So this is me. I’m not going to introduce myself because right now its easier for me to do this with no name and no pretense. It’s easier for me if you come into this without expectation on any level. From content to grammar. Plus, as much as I’d love to have a couple of people even read this, I’m mostly writing this for me.
The facts are I’m female, 33, married, no kids (don’t want any), 388 lbs, 5’6 and I’ve got 4 sessions of psychotherapy under my belt thus far. Also, I am unemployed and have comfortably fallen under the title of housewife for now. I’m trying to lose weight but first I’m trying to tackle the baggage in my head and sort it out.
I hope to write here a few times a week but at least once a week. I’m finding my psychotherapy to be much more helpful than i thought. I mean, i knew it would be beneficial but I didn’t realize how fast things would come and how much more there is to come.
Let’s save those for the next post. For now, maybe some history.
Well, I was lucky enough to have been born into a loving home.
That is my favourite picture of them. SO young, so in love.
My Mum was 18 and travelling through Europe and North Africa with someone she’d met through the classifieds, when she met my dad. She fell hard for him.
They divorced the summer of my grade 6 year. I believe I was 11 or just turning 11. my memory is horrible with my past. I think it was easier to block most of it out than to deal with it. I’m not saying i had such a horrific childhood, but to me, it’s the only thing I know and it was awful.
My mum was a secretary and decided she’d had enough and wanted to go back to school to become a nurse, which she did. My dad didn’t seem to care for this very much as he started feeling neglected. Instead of being a man and actually speaking with his wife about this, he decided to cheat on her with a neighbour of ours who happened to be the mother of one of my closest friends.
I think this went on for years rather than months. im a bit blurry but i do recall sleeping over numerous times at their house-they moved out of our apartment building at some point-and my dad would stay the night with me. I would see him kiss this woman passionately as he should be kissing my mother, and being a kid, i thought nothing of it. the sick thing is i actually figured it was normal behaviour since no one else was acting surprised.
finally, things came to a head and my mum had enough and we left him to move in with my gram – mum’s mum.
Now, you’d think this is where the eating would have started. the dreaded point where the weight starts to pile on. but the truth is, nope. now i was never a skinny child. but i was never fat either, until grade 11. that’s when i started packing it on. funny, i spoke with my mum about it lastnight and she said she had lost about 50lbs around then and i gained about the same, as though they’d just shifted from her to me over a year or so. that is interesting…but im just not sure where to go with it.
anyway…that’s about it for now. its been nice writing for the last 30 minutes or so. a cat has just now found his way onto my chest and shoulders and so its a struggle to type anymore. he’s relentless with the cuddle in the morning so i should amuse him for awhile…then breakfast and laundry..WOO!
I promise this wont all be mind numbingly sad. i am a funny, happy person most of the time.
the hook xox