7.07.2005

Drowning...

Wedding in less than three months. I am very, very confused. This is not the kind of thing I suppose I am supposed to write about on the internet, but screw it. Noone reads my bullshit anyway.

Have you ever taken a step back and looked at your current situation as though you were not involved? As an outsider? And have you ever GASPED at some of the stupid choices and decisions you've made? I sure have. It's like watching a horrible movie where you scream at the main character to stop, don't do that, you're making a REALLY BAD DECISION! I am way to embarrased to mention my bad choices online. Because what it comes down to is that I was once pretty overweight. 50 lbs. overweight. Though I carried it well (haha) I had 0, nada, zip, zilch self esteem. I thought that whatever guy I could get was a godsend, because what man would want to be with my fat ass? I still took care of myself and all that, and I've always had a strong personality, but I always thought that looks were everything. EVERYTHING. Without them, you were worthless. I think this lack of self esteem is what gave me my addictive personality, one that leeches on to whatever makes me feel good and drowns out the bad for the moment. Drugs, alcohol, sex, more drugs, food, over-exercising, etc. etc. etc.

I grew up a chunky kid. Not fat, but enough to make me self conscious at a very early age. So when I started working out after highschool, I took it to the extreme. A year after adopting this so called "healthy" lifestyle, I was 110 pounds, 5'5" tall. Then 103 pounds. Then 88 pounds. I remember the day I weighed in at UNDER 100 POUNDS. I had always read those stories about girls with eating disorders that weighed less than a buck, and I always thought 'Wow, good thing I am HEALTHY, not obsessed'. I could not have been any more in denial. So when the doctor saw the scale at 90 lbs, and her brow furrowed in horror, I knew something was wrong. WITH EVERYONE ELSE. When I told me boyfriend at the time that I clocked in at a mere 90 lbs, veins popped out of his head that I'd never seen before. He was so angry and never understood why I wanted to lose weight in the first place. Bless his heart. He stayed with me much longer than he should have. Longer than I would have. Everyone else was wrong. Though I felt cold all the time, my hair was brittle and dry and I looked like I had come out of some kind of holocaust, I was "HEALTHY". And everyone else just could not accept my healthy lifestyle.

But at 88 lbs, I knew I needed help. My step dad had just died of cancer and things were awful. I remember that time in my life, those few years, and it all comes back to me like a fuzzy, cloudy, gray nightmare. After about a year of nutritional therapy, I "got better". Except for one thing. Things started escalating in the other direction. Whatever issues I had before snuck up again, only this time they could not be appeased with a strict sense of control and deprivation. This time they had to be fed... literally. I could not eat enough. All the things I had deemed BAD and EVIL and FATTENING for the last three years were now nothing but sheer happiness and joy and love and friendship and freedom. And I ate and I ate and I ate. And I grew fatter and fatter and fatter. And my self esteem went down, down, down. But I drowned my lack of self worth with more food.

I dated a guy we'll call "Pencil Dick". He was a total loser and I dated him because he was there and because he wanted me. How very, very sad. He was the horniest, most preverted guy I've ever met. And he had loads of issues, no pun intended. I finally wised up after meeting another guy and cut "Pencil Dick" loose. He called about 6 weeks later to say he missed me and wanted me back. (smirk, smirk)

So I had met D. We hooked up the first night we met, at a party... he was a few years younger, cute as hell and funny, too. He was also a great 'i'm-drunk-let's-do-it-on-the-bathroom-floor' lay. I thought, 'what the hell'. I tried to be the cool and casual "we just had sex but I am going to leave you alone and act like I don't want your number' girl, and honestly I didn't care if I ever saw him again. But he wanted my number. And when we saw each other at another party a few weeks later, we somehow became attached at the hip. He needed a place to stay... I snuck him into my mom's house to sleep. Which turned into his permanent residence for about 6 long and horrible months of us sleeping on the cold tile floor. He had horrible credit... I had good enough credit to get us both cell phones and eventually an apartment. He needed a car, and so did I... I bought a car he LOVED, even though I did not know how to drive it at the time. I felt bad for him. I did his laundry. I cooked his meals. I helped him build a life, and he helped me. Partly because I felt bad for him. Partly because I was FAT and INSECURE and thought any man that was with me deserved this kind of royal treatment. So when I lost weight and suddenly saw myself as PRETTY, sometimes even HOT... things changed. I did his laundry less. I didn't cook for him as much. Mostly, I didn't put up with any shit. And he gave me shit in the beginning. But back then I blamed it on his bad upbringing and lack of love and need for attention. He hurt me. I forgave him. But I never forgot.

Things got better. Wonderful, even. We both got good jobs, we both had nice cars, nice things, a cute dog (the cutest in the WORLD, to be precise). We were making our way and doing really, really well. Especially considering where we had come from less than 2 years ago.

Fast forward to now: Me, 25. Him, 22. I am 4 months pregnant. We have been engaged for nearly 2 years now. I am freaking out. The wedding is in less than 3 months. I need things from him that he seems unable to give and/or uninterested in giving. But he is young. I cook. Clean. Do laundry. Take care of our dog. And am PREGNANT, which is as tiring as 5 full time jobs rolled into 1. And I work full time. HE works full time. And it is hard work, being on your feet and outdoors for most of the day. I give him that. I APPRECIATE that. But? I am scared that if I'm not getting all the support and responsibility I need from him NOW, when I'm at my most vulnerable and needy, will I EVER? I ask you: Is this partly because he's younger? Is that a reason/excuse? Is it partly because I am a fucking insane and crazy PREGNANT woman? I think that both are likely to be right on to some degree. But the main thing is that lately, I've discovered what I need from a man. From a life partner. LIFE partner. And I am scared to marry someone who has, yes, come a LONG way, but at the same time he has not given me everything I need. Hasn't shown me everything I need to see. I am torn. Sometimes I am peaceful and calm. More often than not I am fidgety and aggitated and scared and confused and really I just want my mommy to tell me what to do. I am a nervous wreck. Our child and our sanity is at stake.

1 Comments:

At 2:25 PM, Blogger James Gallagher said...

My wife is pregnant, and I can see that it isn't easy. She is due on Nov. 24. Are you asking for advice? If so, I am not what sure to say. Sounds like you have a mature outlook on your mistakes. Life has a way of repeating itself like a winding staircase. Hopefully going UP and not DOWN. Only God can truly fill the void deep within our spirits. If this guy is someone you want to spend your ENTIRE life with, I think you should marry him--I mean ENTIRE--all the way to age 70. If not, don't marry him.

 

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