The Journey . . .

May 31, 2009

 . . . of a lifetime is hopefully making a downward turn to becoming half the person I am now. 

This sounds pretty "doomsday" but actually I finally see myself as other do:  Morbidly Obese!!   At 350+, this is no way to live.   The depression and anxiety is really getting in the way of living.   I was talking to my Mother the other day and she asked: "when are you going to start taking care of yourself?  Put your well-being above others?"    I couldn't answer the question because I had no idea.   I have always focused on the health and welfare of others at the expense of neglecting my own health.   Frankly, it was a very noble, yet convenient, excuse that has worked for years.   But was it really working?

What is your turning point?    When are you going to put yourself FIRST?   I have been reluctantly asking myself this a lot lately and it has only made things worse during the last several weeks.   To get the right perspective, let’s go back a little bit in time.   Last year it was all about the J-O-B. Actually, that has been the excuse for the last 8 years.   In just the last 8 months I have been providing emotional support for my daughter (19) who found herself pregnant & was choosing adoption in the best interest of the baby; I had my first Grandchild in January (5-weeks early) and she spent 17 days in the NCIU; my youngest son went into the hospital in February and spent the next 45-days there; now my middle son (17) is in a treatment facility as of last week.     The question has been easy to answer for the last year and half.     But now everyone has, or in the process of getting their physical/mental health back . . . . Now what?  Am I going to be forced to start focusing on me? 

All of this has been a little straining on our marriage and I was so scared the other day when my husband said “we need to talk.”  I became very anxious on the inside but was able to project a calm demeanor on the exterior.   We were finally able to sneak away for a couple of hours and he too started the conversation by saying that he was very worried about his wife;  how it is getting harder for her to move and that even a simple shopping trip has to be planned for a “good day.”    I was numb.   I didn’t want to face it or talk about it at all.    

Through all of this my best friend has been Ice Cream . . . but then again I have had lots of "comforting friends (food)".    They were always there, available and never said NO!!  My friends have stuck around and now my posse that hangs on my arms, thighs, mid-section and other areas total up to 350+ and to be truthful, are feeling more like baggage than friends.  

How can a bright, educated, introspective woman be in such denial that these crazy friends are killing her? 

0 Comments