Basement feelings tonight

First off didn’t get to sleep so pervading tiredness is hanging on.

Around 6:30 PM I just started thinking I wanted to stop the fast. Not because I’m hungry but because I just felt low and wanted something carbolicious to rectify being stuck in the basement emotionally. I promptly called one of my spiritual supporters, one of my best friends. She told me:

You are on your 7th day of the fast now, see and feel yourself already reaching it.

Then she said the grandest thing of all:

See your spirit through Jesus’ eyes.

That stopped my cravings dead in their tracks for that moment. We talked for a wee bit longer until my sweetie called and we talked about my faltering moments and I drank water.

Everything seemed to feel okay for a while until we got on the topic of what weight would make me feel happy. He didn’t agree with my target weight because of my height. That was enough to put me in another tailspin. I just hate the whole business of it all. Trying to defend my hopes even if they are unrealistic or not. According to height weight charts women my height could get to smaller weights. I have small bones and thin bony fingers and toes and a small delicate wrist so I’m considered small boned. He just thinks I’m over shooting what I need to be for my height. That led to me upsetting him because I was upset. I hate being obese, and fat and just non-normal. I hate my body. I know he doesn’t want me to get discouraged but all of this discourages me. Get off the phone with him only to talk to my aunt who talks about my having to get skin surgery after losing 100 lbs because it’s all going to be left behind and that’s one of my greatest fears. Let’s see lose weight and walk around with Shar pei wrinkles hanging off of you or just stay fat!

This is one of the hardest nights in my life in a long, long time. I want to crawl under a rock and just die. What’s around the corner of this whole healthier lifestyle? It just seems like if you get fat your struggle is heartache after heartache. If I didn’t have dogs suicide would see like the best way out of basement of the awful feelings I’m feeling right now. And to think I just ended my regular appointments with my counselor because I was doing so well emotionally and physically with my PTSD.

Why can’t you just have good feelings through things, why do you have to end up getting blindsided all the time in life? The odds aren’t in my favor for a happy Hollywood ending with this danged weight and all. It’s just tragic and that’s all there is to it. Every time I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel something shuts the light out. I feel so discouraged and scared right now I just feel so bad.

There’s no worry about me making it to day 5 now because I feel sick to my stomach, I couldn’t eat if I wanted to. Not my favorite day in the fast. I’ve got to call my mom to check in and I don’t want to upset her so I’ll have to pretend that everything’s okay and all I can do is cry. Maybe I’ll just beg off for tonight.

What’s the worst thing you could do to yourself? Apparently everything I’ve done in the last 43 years.

I wish I could prove everyone wrong and come out of this looking and feeling great. At this moment I just don’t feel it’s possible. I wish this day hadn’t happened. I wish I hadn’t happened. I wish I could just be taken out of the picture of life without any pomp or circumstance or anyone noticing. I’d go quietly if I had the opportunity right this moment.

Posted by ijellorca on February 2, 2006 9:50 PM | DIGG | del.icio.us | furl