Yep, you read that right. Food. My arch nemesis, but my ultimate comforter. *sigh* It's way out of hand at this point (my weight that is). Ok, so I've had three babies since 2004 (yeah, you read that right too) and I had a daughter with a rare and lethal birth defect. I buried said daughter while 20 weeks pregnant with baby #3. Just typing that made me wanna reach for the cookies! So, maybe I have reason for being so totally out of control with my eating. It still sucks though.
I use to *love* working out and eating healthy. Not to place blame here, but husband is a terrible, awful, horrible influence on me. I can still vividly remember when we first started "living in sin" and I would get all dressed up to go run and he would sit on the couch and moan as I walked out the door "don't goooooooooooooooo, stay with me! Let's eat some ice cream and watch a movie and have some.....(insert something naughty here)". And I would invariably cave at his googly eyes. That was the beginning of the end for me. The end of a good body, defined abdominal muscles.....defined anything for that matter!!! Then the bottom fell out of my life and that's when everything really spiraled out of control for me. Isabella was born. Six short weeks later I received the worst news of my life and you know what I did? I ATE. Seriously. I can remember it like yesterday. One minute I'm in the ER screaming and crying.....a few short hours later I'm home and STUFFING MY FACE!!!! It was that quick......my life is falling apart so I know what I'll do! I'll get FAT! Mwahahaha....I'll show life, that asshole! I'll teach life a lesson by ruining my body! Take that!
Okie Dokie. So it hasn't really panned out like I thought. Life doesn't care if I'm fat.....life just......goes on. So here I type a big ol fatty pants. NOT FOR MUCH LONGER!!! As I work through my grief, I get a little angrier and the anger is good, it feels nice.......I want to walk that anger out and eventually RUN that anger out. Oh yes, it will feel so nice. Besides, whatever happened to "I'm going to run because my daughter can't?" It inspired so many and now I'm just a big fat butt! Ok, ok, enough of the self defecating remarks. But really, I need to make a come back. For reals yo!!!
Of course I am breastfeeding my little lover man, so it's going to be slow going for the next few months. (grrrrrr) But I can make small changes now. I can't let food guide me and control me anymore. Yes, I lost my daughter. Yes, it still hurts like a motheryouknowwhat. Yes, I want to eat like there is no tomorrow just so I can not feel that pain for a few short minutes. But I won't. I can't. I love myself too much, and I'm tired of hurting myself even more. I'm just making my life more difficult and trying to replace the pain of losing Isabella with the pain of being fat. Duh. How's that for therapy fatty pants?!
So, I'm going to bite the bullet and actually get a therapist!!! Just someone that I can pay once a week and just UNLOAD on them! Hopefully that will help. I just need to verbally get this stuff off my chest and not be worried about making someone else cry (I know it's terrible, but when I dump on someone about my loss and THEY get emotional it really ticks me off!) So a therapist should do me nicely. Maybe that therapist can get chocolate cake off my mind (and ass?) for good!! Maybe. We'll see. It's a start anyways, right?
Besides, Turkey starts pre-K in the fall and I cannot be the fat mom with the mini van alright? I have some MILF in me somewhere, I'm gonna dig her out!!!! Watch out! ;)
I love you sweet Isabella and you still inspire me every.single.day of my life. You are always with me, keeping my path open and free. You are my forever love.