Thursday, October 8, 2015

That Time My Intentions Turned to Shit

I have discovered I am a mimic writer. My thoughts are my own but in order to provoke them to leave my brain through my fingers I have to read something else that someone else has written to set the tone for whatever I am writing. It is odd.

That being said, my blog is still private and since the last time I wrote there has been literally anti-progress. Yes, I think I have actually gained weight since I last wrote. I don't seem to be able to even keep promises to myself these days.

My birthday is in 5 days and I told myself my birthday present to myself would be eating healthy and exercising. It would be kind of rude for me to decline, right? Just a little multi-personality disorder . . . not really but with as torn as I am between eating until I am 600lbs and starting this healthy lifestyle once and for all, you'd think I had a few different personalities lurking in my head.

Speaking of a healthy lifestyle. I am so tired of all jargon. The lingo. I don't want to go on a diet or start eating healthy or live a healthy lifestyle. I just want to stop eating shit so I can stop feeling like shit. I am at the point where most things taste like cardboard anyway. I literally cannot satiate my palette and end up eating so much I may as well burst.

I am so tired of this body that I live in. I have rolls on my biceps, my gut sticks out farther than my boobs, my ass is literally wider than I am tall, I have been having insane breakouts of hidradenitis suppurativa (nasty cysts that break open and bleed and bleed and create tracks under the skin so another one can form. It is painful and creates terrible purple scars where ever it surfaces). I am tired of my thighs rubbing together, having to lift my stomach to wash my lady parts, the triple chin, the swollen fingers and feet and ankles. Oh and elephant skin ... gahhh.. on my ankles, knees and elbows... no matter how I exfoliate and loofa it is just terrible.

I am tired of wondering if people are smiling at me with a genuine smile or one of pity. I used to get looks of appreciation but I can no longer tell them apart from the ones of shock at my girth. The button popped off my only pair of fitting jeans and so I have to hold the top together with a rubber band. This only after my favorite pair of work pants split in the thigh. Which leads into my financial crisis . . .

The ex husband left the burden of a very large bill on my shoulders even though our divorce decree had assigned it to him. Unfortunately the bill NEEDED to be paid and in order to pay it and keep up with food, clothes, and necessities for Sass and Breeze I accrued some credit card debt. Now that the bill has been paid off I have this amazing credit card debt that I am trying to pay down but it an uphill battle. So, I cannot splurge on clothes (even though I nearly have none and I wear the same damn shirt and sweater almost every day) If I could lose some weight I would have an entire closet (of old clothes) at my disposal and I wouldn't look like a homeless woman wearing the same thing day in and day out.

... and on that note I am tired of complaining about myself when I am doing literally nothing to change it. Onto another day . . .
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