I woke up feeling a bit more energetic, but fatigue is a constant companion, today though, my "buddy" was kind to me. I have a huge pot of soup on the stove, the men in my life are doing their things - video games, computer games, and I am here...writing while Falling Skies is playing in the background. I'm having to force myself to do my exercise.
I am doing a 30 Day challenge. Not to loose weight. Not to look good. Not because everyone else is doing it. I'm doing it to save my life.
I use to be rather skinny, but I changed that. I gained a huge amount of weight and blamed it on depression because of my divorce. But it was because of my father. He stopped "doing" things to me when I told him that if he ever touched me again, I would slit his throat. I was 10. But from that point on out, I was subjected to his leers, comments, and stares. I felt disgusting and filthy every frickin day because of him.
When I was 19, I left and married my high school sweetheart, but like all stories containing high school sweethearts, it failed. He was an abused child and told every day of his life that hew as a looser and would amount to nothing. He believed it. He wanted the love of his parents, but they couldn't give it to him. We were two broken people trying to fix each other and only ended up hurting each other. He beat me. Almost caused me to loose my baby. But I forgive him. I don't feel anything for him, but I do forgive him.
I had no where to go, except home. Back to him. Back to her. I was 22 I believe...I am horrible with years, but I was young and I had a toddler and no mone and no place to go except for them.
I remember cleaning up the spare house so that my son and I could have a place to live instead of living in a RV. We cleaned and he got me a bed. We worked on putting it together....HE proceeded to lay down on it and pat the place next to him. I watched that hand pat place next to him a couple of times, while he stared at me and smiled, and said "It's comfy. Come and try it."
My guts curled up and tightened. I told him no and went to find my baby. I stood there staring out of the window, holding my little one and thinking "I'll never escape this" over and over.
For the next year, I was once again subjected to his comments and leering stares. I hated it. I hated myself. I hated everything. So....I did the only thing I could think of...I ate and ate and ate. I gained and gained and gained. With each pound, his comments were "You are getting big", "you should think about watching what you are eating", "You are getting too big and it's so unhealthy" "there is no one that is going to want you." I did't care. His stares stopped. His leers stopped. He actually quit looking at me.
For the first time ever, he didn't want me. But I wasn't happy..........
I have all this weight now, The thought of ever loosing it, any of it scares the tar out of me. I have used this weight to protect myself. To keep people from looking at me like a slab of meat. But now, being 43 and native american, I am scared of getting diabetes, or heart disease. I know with this excess weight, I'm playing with fire.....So. I have to start exercising. I have to start trying to be a bit healthier.
It's funny, or maybe not, maybe weird, how they have affected almost all aspects of my life. These are the things I have to go over and work through. These are the things I need to get out. That is why I write here. That is why I write what I do.
Today - I am good. Today I feel a bit lazy.