I had the most pathetic weekend. The only word for it is "wallowed". I wallowed. My sister was working nights so I spent most of the time on my own, alone with my brain that never stops thinking. If I happen to get into a good mood my brain goes, "Well this is no fun for me. How bout I kick off a bunch of crap thoughts and watch her spiral into a miserable mood?"
All I could think about was how long it had been since I’ve been out on the town on a Friday or Saturday night. It’s well over a year. The bigger I got the more reclusive I got. The bigger I got the less worthy I felt. Why should I go out? Who the hell would want to spend time with me? I feel like I am an embarrassment to those around me, and to myself.
Two years ago I graduated from university, and we had the formal ball thing. I went along and had a good time for awhile but then all of a sudden I sobered up, and my friends said we were moving on to a club. I suddenly felt I had to escape. That I shouldn’t be there at all. So I told them I would meet them at the club, but I just had to go home for a minute (I lived right by). So I went home. But I didn’t go back out. I locked the doors and turned out all the lights. I looked at myself in the mirror, how I’d tried to pretty myself up for the night but it just didn’t work. Then I just cried and cried.
That sparked off a year of extreme depression and bad shit in my life, that I always attributed to my post-uni uncertainty and stress about finding a job. But now I can admit much of it stemmed from my weight. Everything does, really. There’s no escaping that. Everything I do in life (and mostly, what I *don’t* do) is impacted by how I feel about my weight. I can’t walk to a little meeting at work without feeling the panic that everyone will look at me and write me off as incapable and/or stupid because of my weight.
Getting back to Saturday night… I was feeling lonely. I feel lonely a lot. It’s not that I don’t have friends, I do, and often I am my own worst enemy. I go into recluse mode and shut people out coz I don’t feel I am worth the effort.
It’s the romance thing that gets me lonely. It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed. Since someone looked at me like they cared. That they wanted me. I crave for someone to just look my way and smile.
Now I’ve started this weight loss caper, I feel better about myself everyday. But deep down I still feel so pathetic. And I worry about when it comes off, will anyone like what’s underneath? I am still gonna be plain ol me. Just a bit smaller. Is it going to make me more confident or will I still be the same social doofus that I am now? I guess it’s now if noone wants me I can put it down to "ugly fat chick", but if I was no longer ugly fat chick, what happens if noone still wants me then?
Bah. I dunno why I even think about these things. It’s not something I need to consider for awhile yet. I am still a whale.
I am so nervous about my weigh-in tonight I feel like I am going to vomit.
It’s like this every week. Panic and fear mixed with the teeniest bit of hope and excitment that I might just do okay.
Cross your fingers for pathetic ol’ me, eh?