Feeling so frustrated and I am tired of putting on a smiley happy face at the moment. This is not going to be a warm fuzzy blog but part of healing and this journey is being honest as painful and embarrassing as that can be.
While I love and appreciate and can never thank my friends and others who support me enough, I am frustrated that is expected of me to just be thankful and happy for the good that has come out of this journey. I am thankful, more thankful than words can ever express, I am thankful I am no longer considered diabetic, I am thankful my body does not hurt like it used to, I am thankful I can buy clothes at a normal store now, I am thankful my overall health is great, I am thankful I can walk and run, I am thankful for some new opportunities that have come my way. I am thankful that I am happier and more social, I am thankful for more than I can ever say.
But I also earned the right to be down sometimes, I earned the right to voice my sadness at what my body now is. I earned it. I do not wallow in it but I need to voice it sometimes. I have people who are following my journey and saying it encourages them and they have the right to know that it is hard as hell, that it can be incredibly painful and frustrating. That for all the ups there are some downs. With the exception of my mom, daughter and few friends, I have no one to talk to about this. That is partly why I blogged this path I have taken. I need it for accountability but I also need a place to talk about the ups and downs. I earned this right, I earned every blister, sleepless night, tear and joy.
What I struggle with (am not happy or thankful for for lack of a better word) is my body has new pains, my skin is raw in spots, it sags and gets caught in zippers, or just hangs and pulls, I lay in bed at night aching because I am walking so much to try to keep from ever gaining those old habits or body again. That said I love walking and enjoy it but I know I push it herein lies my addictive personality problem. Walking is my new drug. Or when I look in the mirror and have to figure out how to not have all the excess skin bulge and show (I am very good at containing it with spanx so when you think I am being to hyper critical because you do not see it that is why). I am not happy that my charge cards have balances because my clothes are falling off and I have to replace them. It is not always an option to buy second hand and if you have gone to Goodwill you know prices there are no longer cheap. I am not happy that in order to get underwear that will hold my excess belly flesh the back end looks like I messed my pants. I am not happy that I am afraid to eat cheat meals for fear I will slide back to my old ways or the fact I feel guilty if I eat off my norm. I am not happy that my friend got me into a water aerobics class but I cannot find a suit that will hold my saggy boobs in. Or that my belly looks like a butt. Or that I have had to replace expensive walking shoes multiple times because my feet have lost weight but in order to continue to walk I have to have decent shoes. I am not happy that I am obsessed with all this and that I am scared. I am not happy that I feel like if I cry I am being ungrateful. I could keep going on but what is the point.
For the last 38 years my entire identity has been wrapped around what happened at 14 and how I could keep from ever getting hurt or violated again. I spent all those years forming who and what I was about. Those pounds are gone, that reason for my existence is no more. I had a conversation with my mom the other day and we got to talking about my feelings. She made a good point.. I have not only lost the weight but I now have to find who I am..it is a little scary. I can create a whole new me but how do I do that and what if she is no better than old me was. I am scared, I am happy, I am sad, I am obsessed, I am angry and elated. My whole mindset was I was not worthy of love or respect. I cannot shut my mind off so I walk.
I am Theresa… but I don’t know who that is anymore and that scares me. And what happens when I lose what I need to… what then. What happens when I no longer have weight loss and health to focus on.. Losing this weight has been hard, losing my identity even harder but the hardest part to come is finding out who I am… what is my purpose, how do I tackle the demons I buried so deep and are now coming up. What if the person under all the weight is not who I thought I was. The what ifs are what scare me. I am going to do what I seem to do best these days… go for a walk and for a moment maybe forget my fears.