Digging Within...

Sorry folks, this is more for me than you and I’m kind of trying to dig to see if I can see a way out....

Without re-living and again dealing with the emotions of whatever it was that is causing me distress internally, how does one analyze a past situation? I don’t “feel” like I have any hidden issues. I mean I went through some stuff in my twenties that may have caused emotional baggage but none of it is as bad as some folks that I read about on blog land. I guess we are all different and deal with things differently and maybe a little thing set me off to gaining weight? When I was 25, I left my first husband with a 2 & a4 yr old child. He was verbally abusive and basically a jerk and at the end of that he called me “Fat”. I probably weighed maybe 150lbs if even that…. But it hurt. I left him very insecure about myself. That was his goal with his verbal abuse. Made me feel very bad about myself. I think he was hoping I’d never have the courage to leave him…. But I did.

I think the stress of raising two small children on my own, with no income, added some weight. He was stalking me as well. Wouldn’t pay child support, quit working, slept on park benches just so that the law couldn’t get him to pay me support – can’t get money if there isn’t any coming in. He was heavily into drugs as well (that's where he got his money) and then spent some time going in and out of jail. There is a WHOLE lot more to this story that I'm not going to reveal but I also know this is not what caused me to gain weight.

Then the boredom and lonelienss set in and I started hanging with my parents and started to drink beer with them on Saturday afternoons. Before that I didn’t even like the stuff at all I'm not even sure if I drank much of anything at all back then.…. I was lonely and bored. I ate chips at night watching TV after the kids went to bed.

Then I lost my father and I ended up replacing him in my mother’s life. He was her rock and she didn’t know what to do without him. So the kids and I moved in with her to help out and I became her rock.

Then I met husband #2 via the internet. It was love at first sight. When in reality, it was “here’s a guy who can finally take care of me and allow me to let go for a change”. My Mom was more stable, and I continued to financially support her for many years after moving out. But man I was wrong about Husband #2. I ended up with 3 more kids and one grown one. My load was heavier.

I got as high as 230lbs and on my short 5’1” frame, it was quite large for me. I understand that a lot of folks are/have been heavier but for me, that was the tops. Then in ’99 I started to finally take control of myself and my life and started to exercise and eat properly. I got down to 172 – my lowest since my 20’s. I was feeling good. Then my Mom was diagnosed with cancer and I got my “take care of the world” load back on again (not that it really ever left, it was just a LOT bigger all of a sudden). I actually moved in with her (left hubby and 5 kids and 2 dogs, 2 cats) at home while I took care of my Mom.  My office (where I still work) allowed me to work from her home. Paid for internet service and everything…. (guess that’s why I’m still here). She passed away 2 days after my 40^th birthday. And we buried her on Sept 11, 2001. At the time, I couldn’t figure out why hardly anyone came to her funeral – later that day I found out why.

Then exhubby and I sold our home and moved to an acreage which was a hour+ commute from home to work one way – in the winter it almost doubled. I thought it was what I wanted, to live out in the country, fresh air, and so on (I think it still is but not the way this one went). We had llama’s, alpaca’s, donkeys, dogs… lots and lots of dogs, chickens, cats, a garden and I/we still worked full time in the city. By this time, 3 of the kids had moved out and we were left with only the two youngest children. All of it was just too much for me. I just steadily kept gaining weight. I drank beer. Lots and lots of beer but so did Hubby. I guess that’s how we dealt with things. Then he had a mild heart attack… not really an attack but something like it (I can’t remember anymore what it was). I was AGAIN taking care of someone. But this time it was someone who didn’t want to take care of himself. I watched him smoke more, drink more, and go deeper into depression. See I don’t suffer from depression, never have, never will. Sure I get the blues, but not that deep down depression that he suffered from and my natural born daughter does as well. So I just didn’t understand it, I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t talk to me, why he started drinking at 9:00 in the morning, nothing at the farm was getting done, he was off work on sick leave so I had to make the 2 hour daily commute by myself. We had a couple we used to hang out with and she suffered from depression as well and the two of them got along quite well. Probably too well. I sat at their place once and watched them fall asleep on the couch in each other’s arms one time… and he said there was nothing going on… J Duh…

So I left him in 2005 (9 years of marriage). He called me so many nasty names, fat cow was one of them. He was the type of man that if things didn’t go his way, then he lashed out. He lashed out very hard at me. He was not easy to talk to. I never did truly love him, I thought I had met a man who could finally take care of me and in the end it was me taking care of him and his children. My mom never did want me to marry him – I should have listened. Please note, we did have some good times in our marriage – it wasn’t ALL bad.

So the divorce was kind of ugly, the whole thing was nasty and I spent a few years feeling guilty about it all. 2 of his children won’t talk to me as they only know/hear their dad’s side of the story, where as the youngest still calls me Mom and we see each other frequently. She likes me better than her own father sometimes (he is that judgmental).

So now here I am trying to lose weight and although I KNOW how to do it, I seem to be constantly sabotaging myself. I drink once or twice  a week. A far cry from every single day drinking 6-12 beers. But I know it is not helping me at all. I eat popcorn and chips when I get the craving (I do not have a sweet tooth … it’s the salt I crave). If I didn’t buy them, I wouldn’t eat them but I do, and there ya go….

What am I hiding from? Why does drinking beer, or eating salty snacks provide me with a sense of satisfaction? What am I looking for or rather what am I afraid of? What is buried so deep inside this body (soul) of mine that is causing me this distress (fat).

hmmmmmm.....