Honesty - is such a lonely word

So, this blog is about honesty. And in reality, it's also harder to be honest on here than it is if I was, say, talking to a shrink.

My best friend of 30+ years just had her first child. She's my idol. She's beautiful, athletic, intelligent, with a killer sense of style, and her personality is gold. She's unrivaled in anyone I've ever met. Next to her, I'm the dumpy, dumb, sidekick you always see in the movies. But she's never treated me that way. She never planned on having kids, or even getting married. So I was content with the way things were with me. Her and I could be the crazy aunts and bring the kids to R rated movies, fill 'em full of sugar, and then send them back to their parents. But suddenly, she IS the parent.

Holding my beautiful new niece in my arms brought me to a few realizations and truths. The first of which is, as much as I'd like to (and as much as I will) blame hubby for the fact we don't have children, the fault lies with me. I could have easily started losing weight earlier on. I could have insisted we set up a budget to get our own place. I could have just gotten pregnant. But I didn't do any of those things, because I refused to grow up.

In the last three months, I've found out that friends are pregnant, four friends have given birth, and life seems to be settling down for everyone. And when I hold those children in my arms, those tiny newborns that have given their parents a new reason for living, my heart breaks, because I know that my time has run out. And it is really all my fault.

It's a hard truth to realize. I'm going to grow old alone with no one to take care of me. And being the crazy aunt, when you're younger, is great. It's when you get older and you're the crazy, senile, lonely aunt that life gets to be unbearable.

I'm not even going to have a partner. My husband hates me. And it's another hard truth to realize that I caused that as well. I had to take everything to the extreme. I pushed him away so far, he doesn't want to find his way back. Yes, he's to blame for certain things. But in the end, I did go too far. And I can't blame him for keeping his distance.

So, in the spirit of honesty, I have to admit that my marriage is over. And that too, is my fault. I want to be with someone who's happy to see me. Someone who smiles when I come into the room. I need a partner that will hold me when they know I'm having an ultimately shitty day, not just touch me when they want to get into my pants. I want someone who will sing silly songs to me, or who will just want to be with me. He doesn't anymore. In fact, he doesn't even smile when he sees me.

He's got such a gorgeous smile. He needs to smile more. And I can't do it for him.

I've said this before - I know I have. But I've been holding on, just hoping that things will change. But honestly, I'm not sure that this is what I really want. I'm just not good at letting go - of anything. Even when I re-read my blog entries, here and on other ones, it's a vicious circle of repetitive crap. Because I can't be like others and just purge and let go. I don't know why. Writing is supposed to be therapeutic for me, but it's not proving to be. Not the way it was before.

I feel, that since I've made this big sacrifice to my life - not having kids - i should be HONORING that sacrifice by really living instead of just floating from day to day like I have been. I should be traveling and making memories. Since there's nothing to really tie me down. But I need a better job that will allow me to save money to do that. By the time that happens, I could be ready for retirement. How bad would that suck?

I'm great at making plans, making lists. My lists are detailed, make sense and if they ever got implemented, my life would probably be a whole lot better. But I suck on the follow through. So my to-do lists remain undone, and yet they still grow.

I think I need to work on that.

I think that's all the honesty I can handle for today. I've had a few crying jags. I've had a few breakdowns. I just want to spend a week sleeping.

And honestly - that's about all I want right now.

Take thirty-two...and...ACTION.

Well, here we go again. Going to take it from the top and try to do this weight loss thing properly. Been very out of shape and hurting the last few weeks. Really bad diet. Really bad choices. The only thing that's stayed the same is no smoking. Which is a blessing. It's tempting to go back to it once in awhile, but really, it's not worth it.

I'm going to try keeping a food diary. I was always scared to do that, because I didn't want people to know the little ways I was cheating. i didn't want someone to find it and say "Well, no wonder you're a fucking pig." I didn't want to have to keep track of the three cookies here, or the half a chocolate bar there. It would mean being actually accountable. If I only ate what others saw me eat, and I didn't lose weight, I could say "Well, *I* don't know why. I've been sticking to my diet."

But now it's time to be accountable. Even if it's just to myself. I have goals now. I plan to try and hit them. They are going to be difficult. But I know I can do them. I'm also going to start attending overeaters annonymous. There's a chapter that meets by my house. I can't do it the next two weeks, because I've got work. But I WILL go. I have a warped relationship with food, and I need to understand why this happens.

I mean, I'm all for the message of Love Your Body and all that. And I agree that you should - ONLY if that body is healthy. But mine isn't. And if you're genetically predispositioned to be heavy. I'm not. Just take a look at both sides of my family going back three generations. None of them are as big as I am. I need to do this.

Last night, at work, I had issues with walking and breathing at the same time. It wasn't happening for me. So I had Andrew, one of the paramedics and a friend of mine, take a look at me. My blood pressure was a little higher than normal, but my airways were clear. And we just started talking about everything I'm going through: the problems at work, the problems at home, and the crazy amounts of stress that I'm under. He thinks I need to talk to someone about it. He says that there's only a certain amount of strong we can be before the weight starts getting to us. And he thinks, without knowing everything, that I might have reached my limit.

I haven't had a decent nights sleep in weeks (except for last nights, but I took an atavan before bed and doubled up on my melatonin). I can't find comfortable positions to sleep in - sometimes I wind up sleeping sitting up, clutching a pillow, and that's how dad used to sleep. And that terrifies me.

I've got no one to really talk to about it. The hubby's convinced that I'm screwing around, and that's why our sex life sucks. Well, no. Our sex life sucks because my insides are a mess. With all the problems we have, yes, I agree that he maybe shouldn't take much stock in my FEELINGS (emotionally - after all, I caused half this shit even if I didn't mean to). But why we're not having sex has nothing to do with emotions and everything to do with physical feelings. When I'm having problems breathing, and finding comfortable ways to sit/lie down - the LAST thing I feel like doing is an activity where my heart rate increases and sometimes feels like it's going to explode. And I NEVER feel like doing it at 5am. That's just ridiculous. A friend of mine told me that if her husband woke HER up for sex at that time even ONCE, let alone on a regular basis, she'd deck him. I've never been a morning sex person - ever. This is nothing new. But to him, it just means that I'm fucking someone else. I wish he'd take my physical condition into consideration.

He really doesn't help as far as food goes either. I'm guilty of making lousy choices on my own, but I can admit that I need help. But he won't. He just gets seriously frustrated and we wind up eating whatever take out is quickest. It needs to stop - and I'm doing my best to get it done now.

When I was younger, take out was a treat. Mom cooked just about every night. The worst thing I did on my diet was fries at lunch in the cafeteria. Then I dated Kevin, and he was the fast food king. I ballooned up to fifty pounds past my regular weight - which was always a little heavier than normal. But let's face it - I hit puberty at ten (including boobs - BIG ones) and that made my gorgeous straight hair go frizzy, my eyes got bad so I needed glasses which were huge, plastic and HORRENDOUS back then, and no one wanted to talk to me. So yeah, I turned to food for a bit. But I still played sports and swam and was MAYBE ten pounds over what I should be. Kevin was my first serious boyfriend and Jewish to boot. So he hated food at home, and we wound up eating Burger King, McDonalds etc.

After we broke up, I lost fourty of the fifty pounds. I still had big boobs, but was only about twenty pounds away from my goal weight. And then I met the hubby. Well, if Kevin was the take out king - hubby is take out emperor / ruler of the universe. For sixteen years, fifty out of fifty two weeks of the year has been spent eating crap from drive thrus.

Sad huh? Especially for someone who can cook (hubby) and someone who LOVES good food like veggies and fruits and fish and chicken (me). But there it is. I've tried weight watchers, which worked for a bit but I was never able to stick to, and mom's wanted me to go on every available program out there - Jenny Craig, Nutri-system, etc. My whole problem is that eventually, I have to eat on my own. So what happens then? I wind up back at this weight?

No thank you.

So, here I am. Trying to make my way on this journey - not necessarily on my own because I do have friends - but essentially on my own because none of them can be here to eat with me, or help me make the right choices. And I know what they are - I just need to make them.

This breathing issue has me scared to go back to the gym. I don't want to collapse on the treadmill. I will get there though. And I have the Wii fit, I have the Biggest Loser Wii game, and I have Jillian Michael's 30 day shred, which I know I can at least get through level one without dying.

I want to show this blog to my friends, so that I have some feedback on days when I feel this bad. But I don't want to annoy them with my whining. Only one person has this address, and she's the one person I know I can't completely annoy. And the one person I know I can count on.

So here's the before picture I took for my Visalus challenge. I look disgusting. But this is honest - this is real.

Ok so I took my face out of it. Ironically, there's an herbal weight loss system commercial on the television behind me. Disgusting isn't it? I'm so embarrassed at times I just want to die.

I can't stay this way for much longer. I've wasted too much of my life being this way, being complacent, not accepting that my life could be different if I just tried. Well, now I'm trying.

Here goes....everything.