I'm kind of in a rut. And, I'm kinda pissed about it. I know people in this world have bigger problems than me and I wouldn't dispute that, but this is my blog and my place to talk about what's on my mind. So, shut it. I mean, not that you were interrupting me, but if you were, I was just being preventative.
I know you might be thinking "Why are you in a rut and pissy, Angry Pony?" Thank you for asking. Let me tell you all about it.
This whole weight loss thing is bringing me down. I know I just blogged about my trip to "Vickie's," and how it was a victory, but the reality is, I have a long way to go. A LONG way. I have goals. I want to make progress and I feel like I'm in a rut. I've been behaving badly and I'm pissed about it. I don't care if I should be happy with how far I've gotten. I've been stuck in the same place for over a month. It's frustrating. And everyone says, "oh, you're looking so good!" Which is nice, but it also makes me feel the immense pressure to continue my journey and make that next milestone. Each day that I don't continue down the scale, I feel like a fraud. I feel like a failure and the more I feel like a failure, the more I spiral down. This isn't helping anything. I know this. I am smart enough to know this, just not apparently strong enough to change this. I'm letting myself down. I'm letting everyone down that had to read about me getting my food through an IV tube, the people that read about me crapping my pants, about my guts exploding, about stuff going on in my Easy Bake Oven. Those people deserve a happy ending. I deserve a happy ending. Right now, the only happy ending that I can even possibly foresee is if I take Will down to some dark shady massage parlor and pay for one for him.
Maybe my therapist is right. Maybe my core belief system is so screwed up that I will not succeed until it is "fixed." And, I am trying to fix it. I've been saying every day this week: "Today probably won't totally suck." So far, each day has had small highlights, but also major failures. I just desperately want to be one of those people that get up and put their pants on, goes through their day and doesn't worry about what they look like or what they eat. Does such a person exist? I think they do. I know everyone has their own set of problems. I don't pretend to believe there is some magical life that is available that I can buy or earn based on the number of tokens I earn on Candy Crush or whatever. I don't want to obsess about my life anymore. I just want to be normal, but in order to be normal, I have to "earn" it. I want to be happy "as is, where as, no guarantee's or warranty's implied, no money back, all purchases final." I think Will is okay with that, which is great, but what happens when I am not okay with that. What do I do with that?
I have to eat cleaner. I have to get to the gym. This is all me. This isn't going to happen just because I had weight loss surgery. I'm not one of the lucky ones that the weight just falls off of. That isn't my lot in life. I'm angry about that. I really am, but I know what I need to do, but I don't want to. Why don't I want to? Why can't I get it done? What is a matter with me? I don't know. Each day I wake up and I drink my protein shake. I pack my lunch and snacks. I have my gym clothes at work. And then, it happens, a potluck, the treat trolley, I'm tired, I don't want to go to the gym. I want to go home. I go home and I fall victim to a spouse that does not share in my journey. Does not feel passionate about it. Wants to be supportive, believes he is supportive, but at the heart of it, he really doesn't want me to succeed. And, I don't know why. I mean, it isn't like fat chicks are easier to handle. I've disproved that myth. It isn't like I'm going to leave him. Crazy is crazy, I don't care if it is fat or skinny. There are only so many people willing to sign up for that. Will's crazy threshold is HIGH. I told him he shoulda run when he had the chance. He's the one that hitched his pony to this wagon. Dumbass. So, it isn't like I'm going anywhere. Whatever.
So there it is. My Wednesday night introspective on WTF is wrong with me? I need a kick in the ass, I guess. And maybe a laxative, a sauna suit and some time in the sauna. I don't know. If anyone has any insight, please feel free to share, because I could use some.
In other news, my new best friend bra has been poking the side of my boobs. Victoria Secret high...over.
This concludes tonight's pity party. Please get your coat before you leave and take your left-overs home. Otherwise, I'll just eat them.
I know you might be thinking "Why are you in a rut and pissy, Angry Pony?" Thank you for asking. Let me tell you all about it.
This whole weight loss thing is bringing me down. I know I just blogged about my trip to "Vickie's," and how it was a victory, but the reality is, I have a long way to go. A LONG way. I have goals. I want to make progress and I feel like I'm in a rut. I've been behaving badly and I'm pissed about it. I don't care if I should be happy with how far I've gotten. I've been stuck in the same place for over a month. It's frustrating. And everyone says, "oh, you're looking so good!" Which is nice, but it also makes me feel the immense pressure to continue my journey and make that next milestone. Each day that I don't continue down the scale, I feel like a fraud. I feel like a failure and the more I feel like a failure, the more I spiral down. This isn't helping anything. I know this. I am smart enough to know this, just not apparently strong enough to change this. I'm letting myself down. I'm letting everyone down that had to read about me getting my food through an IV tube, the people that read about me crapping my pants, about my guts exploding, about stuff going on in my Easy Bake Oven. Those people deserve a happy ending. I deserve a happy ending. Right now, the only happy ending that I can even possibly foresee is if I take Will down to some dark shady massage parlor and pay for one for him.
Maybe my therapist is right. Maybe my core belief system is so screwed up that I will not succeed until it is "fixed." And, I am trying to fix it. I've been saying every day this week: "Today probably won't totally suck." So far, each day has had small highlights, but also major failures. I just desperately want to be one of those people that get up and put their pants on, goes through their day and doesn't worry about what they look like or what they eat. Does such a person exist? I think they do. I know everyone has their own set of problems. I don't pretend to believe there is some magical life that is available that I can buy or earn based on the number of tokens I earn on Candy Crush or whatever. I don't want to obsess about my life anymore. I just want to be normal, but in order to be normal, I have to "earn" it. I want to be happy "as is, where as, no guarantee's or warranty's implied, no money back, all purchases final." I think Will is okay with that, which is great, but what happens when I am not okay with that. What do I do with that?
I have to eat cleaner. I have to get to the gym. This is all me. This isn't going to happen just because I had weight loss surgery. I'm not one of the lucky ones that the weight just falls off of. That isn't my lot in life. I'm angry about that. I really am, but I know what I need to do, but I don't want to. Why don't I want to? Why can't I get it done? What is a matter with me? I don't know. Each day I wake up and I drink my protein shake. I pack my lunch and snacks. I have my gym clothes at work. And then, it happens, a potluck, the treat trolley, I'm tired, I don't want to go to the gym. I want to go home. I go home and I fall victim to a spouse that does not share in my journey. Does not feel passionate about it. Wants to be supportive, believes he is supportive, but at the heart of it, he really doesn't want me to succeed. And, I don't know why. I mean, it isn't like fat chicks are easier to handle. I've disproved that myth. It isn't like I'm going to leave him. Crazy is crazy, I don't care if it is fat or skinny. There are only so many people willing to sign up for that. Will's crazy threshold is HIGH. I told him he shoulda run when he had the chance. He's the one that hitched his pony to this wagon. Dumbass. So, it isn't like I'm going anywhere. Whatever.
So there it is. My Wednesday night introspective on WTF is wrong with me? I need a kick in the ass, I guess. And maybe a laxative, a sauna suit and some time in the sauna. I don't know. If anyone has any insight, please feel free to share, because I could use some.
In other news, my new best friend bra has been poking the side of my boobs. Victoria Secret high...over.
This concludes tonight's pity party. Please get your coat before you leave and take your left-overs home. Otherwise, I'll just eat them.
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