Saturday, January 10, 2009

"I ate a prawn eye and it tasted like sugar"

Yes thats what my special lil man tells me as he's answering my random questions to him just to see what's going on behind his big hazel eyes. X, that's what we'll call him, was and is my third born and much like the other two, he was a little unexpected or should we call him a "surprise". I'd like to go back almost five years ago to when we found out he was on the way - it goes to explaining alot about how I have ended up here in the fat persons no man's land, treading water in this sea of blubber, bad health and unfulfilled dreams.

Five years ago I worked for weight watchers, yes believe it or not and no I didnt stand at the door as a reminder to members of what would happen if they didnt count points. I was a star member melting those kilos away, I knew every point value for every item of food and if I didnt you could bet I could get to within half a point. I had this thing down pat! I walked and aquaaeorbicised?? I worked at weight watchers every Saturday morning, I got my meetings for free plus we got a commission off the door which was a top meeting each week and we did well. I had two beautiful precious little girls, so well behaved, smart, sweet one 3-4 years the other 1-2 years. I had my system down pat I was organised with food, cooked, passionate about new recipes and smarter ways of making the most out of your points - in aussie terms i was GOING OFF!!! (thats a good thing just to let the rest of the world know).

Its no wonder I lost 20kgs and looked and felt great. It was a battle fighting off my possessive husband who didnt want me gone til 10am every saturday morning, out pounding the pavements every other morning fighting off those kilos and still not the perfect size 10 but damn it, I was strong and I really didnt give a hoot what he thought, he had to deal with it. I even had a little part time job at a cafe which I loved to bits. And no I didnt eat the profits! I was run off my feet 3 hours a day 3 days a week. Life was grand! Well, as grand as it was going to get! I had my two babies,no more babes for me. I begged for a tubal ligation during the second c section but I was 29 and had only 2 babies and being a know it all pig of a man my doctor decided it was not in my best interests for me to be sterilised. My husband would not go for a vasectomy because (and I quote) "while you are not the wife I want I want to keep my options open in case I want to start again with another woman" not a joke (he conveniently forgets this comment but its tucked away there and locked into about 7.5kgs of the fat I'm carrying).

So, early 2004 and over 20kgs down with less than 10 to go to perfection I went to the doctor for the morning after pill but it had recently been put onto over the counter medication, no prescription necessary BUT it would cost $40 which I didnt have at the time (times were tough thus the job at cafe and ww) the doctor normally gives me a freebie. Anyway, it was a long shot surely I would be safe just this one time......

Well, it was the day before my first born was to start primary school, emotions were running high and I had noticed that my PMS had subsided without the appearance of the M bit so there I was at the chemist buying the pregnancy test just a month after I should have bought the morning after pill. Words cannot describe the shock. The total utter devastation! All of that hard work gone just like that. I know everyone's thinking "but you dont have to gain weight when you're pregnant" but if you can just imagine for a moment what it took for a certified food junkie to control her addiction under some pretty harsh, undermining and sabotaging situations and get soooooooooooo close to goal and then deal with unplanned pregnancy to boot! And this is the least of what went on that year, I will cover the other aspects later.

I cried for a good solid half hour. I sobbed loud, shrieking, groaning, screaming wracking sobs until my husband had to ask "are we crying because we're happy or because we're sad?" and being the perfect fascade of a wife and mother I had to say it was because we were happy but man my life fell apart right there on bedroom floor. And I've cried like that for the past five years at least weekly and sometimes more often. And I have still not built a bridge and gotten over it. Five years later.....

I know this is the reason I dont start the whole diet thing again, the morbid fear that something will sabotage me ..... AGAIN! If its not me, then my husband or another child (I got that tubal ligation in the end but by then I was begging for a hysterectomy but that wasnt "in my best interests"). Of course I have started but I have all the resolve of a virgin on prom night, I have just given up the ghost. And because of alot of things that happened that year, I have given up on life alot also - doesnt make for a very solid foundation for the perfect facade. So, being the sulky, moody, temperamental, oversensitive baby that I am I am still in a funk - 5 years later!

Yes, I gained those 20 kgs and more during the pregnancy and just as the precious little spawn turned one and I should have gotten my life back and started again he turned into the child from hell and now not only did I have a possessive husband to answer to, I had a tantrum chucking possessive, aggressive toddler to deal with who would only deal with me and NO ONE ELSE and a husband who fought this every step of the way. Our house was a constant war zone. Two pig headed, possessive, aggressive bastards fighting over their bitch. It was all I could do to not drink during the day, I certainly did at night and still do for the most part. I dont know if he was a product of a bad situation or he created the bad situation but which ever way you want to look at we were a shit team. He eventually turned good at around 3 years and yeah I lost 12kgs at the gym that year but the beginning of 2008 saw the facade crack and give way and those 5 years came crashing down and its a wonder I've only gained 12kgs although the show's not over yet.

I do wonder if I had of blogged or journaled then then maybe it all wouldnt of gotten so shit cause this is really so very cathartic and I sit and say maybe I've given up on myself too soon and shouldnt resort to surgery and give this another go by myself but at the rate this process proceeds I'll have lost 20kgs by the time I get surgery anyway if I put my money where my mouth is!

So a brief idea of what also went on in those proceeding years:
- My wonderful, precious mother figure grandmother died and funnily enough - I watched her slowly starve to death! (text book psychology this, I know)
- My mother used me for 4 years to build a million dollar property for her saying that we would be able to buy and live in half of it - she of course pulled the rug out from under me after doing the 4 years hard work and wouldnt sell us the property. Too much profit at stake! Kinda hard being financially raped by your mother.
- Husband unemployed for 3 months HUGE financial and emotional strain
- sister on death bed in Queensland with strange immune disorder
- Husband EXTREMELY unsupportive during death of grandmother. In fact everyone unsupportive, after all, was ONLY my grandmother, just because she was the mother figure I didnt have.
- First baby started school (boo hoo)
- Moved house to be the perfect rental tenants to my rapist mother (told you I was a walking train crash plus couldnt give up house I had designed and laboured over plus guilt ridden cheap stable rent)
- Did I mention the unplanned baby?
There's even more in all this but we must stop somewhere....

So, why cant I build a bridge and GET OVER IT!!!!! Is all of this just a handy few reasons to not work at being an effective member of the human race? Or is this all a genuine chipping away of a character until there is just nothing left to chip? Do I deserve to fall apart never to have to stand up again for another beating down? Is the surgery just a way to help me out of the symptoms? I do see a therapist these days although there's only so much you can cover in 1 hour sessions (usually go to 1.5 hrs though) and after an hour of dredging everything up, you have to walk out on the street and continue on like everything is OK?????? What does it actually resolve???? I think this blog thing is better.

So, do I be my own worst enemy and not even let myself try...again? Am I just as guilty or more so than those around me who have hurt my precious little feelings?(once again, boo hoo) Should I toughen the $^%^% up! Should I just keep crying every week? Should I just keep eating? I dont feel like I even have the strength, determination or the trust in myself to be able to try. You know, all this time I have been thinking about husband (lets call him R), mother, sister, grandmother, friends, life, god, the universe, whatever, whoever, letting me down but the worst let down of all, me. Cause I am literally all I have and I have let myself down. I have not been there when I needed me, I was absent, I wasnt a friend to myself, I wasnt a support, I just fumbled along leaving everything to a "Shaggs of the future" to deal with at a better time. Has that time come? Is it time to step up? Can I trust myself? Will I be there when the chips are down (food again!)? Or will I let myself fall flat on my face again? Dont know cant answer all that only time will tell, the proof is in the pudding but will I even get to that point to find out.....

In the meantime, I'll lay with him on his soft little bed and hold his soft little hands and try to figure out what made him eat a prawn eye.....

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Weight Loss From 27th January 2009