June 2, 2009
January 17, 2009 – Uncle dies
February 2, 2009 – Get fired from leadership position in video game
February 12, 2009 – Get fired from job
February 13-15, 2009 – Feel really good about February 12 and insist to friends, honestly, that everything feels “really good” and that it’s all going to be fine. Better than fine! It was a needed thing and I feel, “free.”
March 1-May 1, 2009 – Crying jags in bed all day
May 2-3, 2009 – Have huge falling out with guy I like. He now thinks I am the anti-christ. A position I am starting to seriously consider filling.
May 2-28, 2009 – More crying
May 29, 2009 – Start feeling a little better. Step on scale. Remain fetal the rest of the day.
Oh, and I can’t afford Blond Trainer anymore. Had to quit the gym. It’s been a hard first half of the year. I’ve had Pluto square Pluto AND Saturn square Saturn. Like, three midlife crisis elements in my chart. What, you got something to say about astrology? HEY. It was good enough for the Reagans, it’s good enough for you. Right. So. Point is, I am back up to, hold on lemme go double check again on the scale…. 267.1 pounds. And I actually think it’s more than that but my Weight Watchers scale only goes so high. I would like to blame the lead lined yoga pants I’m wearing and my solid gold tank top. But we both know those could only add around 80 pounds, making me still overweight. So thaaaaat’s right. I am officially heavier now than I was when I started my original diet. I’ll give you a moment for that to soak in.
You okay, buddy?
Well. I have been in a very, very dark night of the soul for about, well, let’s be honest it’s been closer to a year now. The last four months have been brutal. But I think some planets are finally transiting the hell out of my chart and I’m reading a book by an American Buddhist nun and I’m getting up and showering almost every day now so things are looking up.
I feel like shit all the time. ALL. The time. I get winded doing the easiest things. Getting up and down off the ground to paint baseboards and do yardwork is an exercise akin to a turtle on its back trying to right itself. I keep reading a friend’s journal who is working out and she keeps talking about how great she feels. I know I felt that way at one point, but damned if I can remember. All the clothes I bought when I’d lost the weight? So far away from fitting now that I finally just took them out of the drawers to make room for the new size 28s I had to buy.
But tonight, I’m feeling some…. odd sensation. I keep hearing the Rocky themesong in my head. I’ve been listening to Defying Gravity from the Wicked soundtrack over and over. I don’t want to overstep my bounds and call it “motivation,” let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. But, I don’t know, I’d like to see my feet without having to lean forward to a 45 degree angle at the waist.
So.
Here endeth the dark night of the soul. For the most part. I’m still in a funk but what am I gonna do? If I kill myself now, I’ll be too fat to carry in a coffin and it would take three weeks to cremate me. I’ma have to slim down a bit before resorting to anything drastic…
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