Broken....
A year ago I felt like I was too broken to be fixed; like no one could put me back together again; like no one wanted to be bothered to even try. It’s a sad, scary place to be... almost as bad as the hospital.
Bell Let’s Talk Day..... I watched Canada AM’s coverage and when I heard Michael Landsberg talking it was like he had walked in my skin, read into my soul and just knew... The stigma is scary... I think it’s part of the reason I’m maybe not so forth coming about that part of my life. No one really wants to walk around in this life wearing a great big ol’ sign pointing out something about yourself that is not so widely understood and immediately sets you up for scrutiny and misinterpretation. “So what did you do today?” is actually a really uncomfortable question somedays... I mean it’s difficult for some people to understand that even though you slept 8 hrs the night before, and will likely sleep 8 hrs that night, you still slept a good portion of the day away, because your body just finds it easier to shut down than deal with how bad you feel, or that this was like the fourth of fifth day in a row that you didn’t leave the house (quite comfortably) because your comfort level/anxiety level wouldn’t let you. That there are days you cannot handle crowds, noise, going out in public, making decisions or even seeing or talking to people you’ve known all your life. That a text message is far easier than a phone call; an email or FB message can be handled easier than a face to face. If you haven’t lived it, you really don’t get it, no matter your best intentions.
I don’t remember the last time I felt “normal” whatever that is. I don’t remember the last time I truly felt like me. I’ve been doing some bookwork for a friend and lots of cooking (definitely not cooking any books though!) and it is likely the closest I’ve felt in a while. I miss my job, surprisingly enough – at least to those who know how hard it was some days. To me, I’m not surprised, because I felt like I fit there. I loved my co-workers, I loved what I did and I loved the daily challenges and the accomplishments of hard work. I loved solving problems and I loved feeling like I contributed to the greater good. Sadly, they must not have felt the same, or else.... well, no point in what if’s right?
So..... gastric bypass surgery.... I’m inching my weigh (yes, sooo pun intended) up to the 70lb mark. It has slowed down seriously since Christmas though. It’s not that I’m not extremely grateful for the loss so far, although I now need to do some serious shopping for underwear and bras..... I can hold out on actual clothing for the most part. What I need now is to motivate myself to working out more and with better habituality (yeah, I know, not a real word... it’s a me-ism) 10 (yes, they are now each a year older, so the girls are now to be known as 17 and 10) is super excited at the idea of me bouncing on the trampoline with her this summer, and riding bikes and lots of other fun stuff. And I’m kind of excited at the prospect of dress shopping for Tooth Fairy’s son’s wedding ( I cannot believe he is getting married, I still remember him as a little ball of mischief, and crying when he was off to university. His fiancée is such a super sweet guy, I loved him right away and I don’t think either of them realize how much it means to me that my girls, Big Daddy and I were immediately on their “family” list for the wedding. I teared up, though many people know that isn’t a huge challenge, but it does mean something) and for a dress for 17’s graduation..... oh gosh I cannot believe she is graduating already...my baby.... and oh how beautiful is her prom dress. Part of me, and I know it’s so lame, but part of me really wants to look good for her graduation; I’ve heard the talk of some of her friends through the years, wondering why her mom was so fat... I hate the thought of embarrassing my children, though I know they love me..
