Ugh! I guess enough of that, although it's still on my mind. Tomorrow I weigh myself and see if I lost any weight this week. I ate SO WELL except for this weekend, when I didn't do as well. We'll see if I lost any weight. This is really my own journal and no one reads it so...if it's below (and God help me not above) 167, I"ll be really happy. I weighed around 125 when I met Mark (I'm 5 foot 7 inches), and we got into some pretty bad eating habits. Donuts on the weekends for breakfast, etc. So I got up to around 135. Then my psychiatric medicine started changing, and that got me up to around 145 - 150. Seroquel hit me and I got up to 160. Then sitting around the house forever, I got up to 175.5. Once I became an adult, 135 was pretty standard for me. Then Jeff (my ex-husband) and I started, well...I started not having much interest in him and started making new friends when I was laid off from the aircraft company here and going to school. He was about 9 years older than me, and I was only about 17 when we met. So I moved to the big city, and everything was so different and new and exciting. I wanted to be part of it. And...he had a temper. Especially if I ever talked about leaving. Or even did anything that might lead me along that path - like go to a club that he was going to be at with my friends. He'd be at a concert there, and my friends would want to go there just to hang out and have a beer or drink, and he would shove me and wrip my shirt and things like that. I remember one particular time, I went ahead and went. Our marriage was downhill from there. I think our marriage was downhill from "I do". I was so sad the day we got married - I didn't want to be married. I felt guilty though. I knew God wouldn't want me to live in sin (just like I'm doing now with Mark *sigh*), and I wanted to be back in line with God, so to speak. I remember walking around New Orleans with Jeff going to find him cigarrettes and being so annoyed with him that he was a smoker. It just grossed me out. I think everything about him grossed me out. And now I wonder, because I"m so much older than Mark, if everything will happen to me the way it happened to Jeff - how I left him, etc. Mark just turned 21 when we started dating, but he also just started a divorce, too. I worry about that a lot. I told you - I'm always *anxious* about SOMETHING.
So tomorrow I guess I'll get up and start looking for a job again. I already have one email response that says that they may have an opening, and that they'd like to know why the contract was so short on my last job. Well that's better said over the phone or in person than in an email, don't you think?
Does anyone, besides me, ever wonder what someone is *supposed* to look like when they are exactly your age? Like, I'm 36, but supposedly I'm a young 36. I don't believe that to be true. I wish I could see a picture of what someone is supposed to look like when they're 36. But then again, when I see it, I'll freak out. I'll think - that's ME?? That's how old I really am? It doesn't matter if I look that old or not...well, yeah, I guess it does. They say age is a frame of mind, and I'm starting to see why. 36 sounds so old, yet...I don't feel that old. I feel like I'm still in my late 20's or early 30's. I guess I am almost in my early 30's, huh. hah. I see pictures of women in the news (granted, it's usually women in crime) who are 35 - 38, and I can't believe how old and hard they look. I try to see it in myself in the mirror, yet...why would I let myself see that about myself? If we all actually saw ourselves - inner and outer - realistically, would we be able to survive it? I mean, without any hope of what we want to accomplish within ourselves, such as losing weight, changing hair, getting teeth done, or even going to church more often, helping the poor, stop lying, get right with God, be nicer to children and family, be neater, etc. - that's what I mean by hope when we think of ourselves. Because I think of all of that when I think of myself. I think of all the things I want for myself - who I want to be, what I want to look like, and that's all part of my self image, not just who I am right this second. Does that make sense? Doesn't everyone do that? Realistically, if someone says they see themselves as they are, always, and never with hope of who they want to be or how they want to look because they don't care or they are just able to do that, are they for real? What about the things that other people place on you? The hopes of your parents, teachers, neighbors, kids, siblings, friends, what you want your high school reunion to think of you? I don't know - I just can't see myself realistically. Especially with this bad haircut.
Ramble. Ramble. Ramble. That's what I'm doing tonight, isn't it? I'm just anxious, and this is what I do when I'm anxious. I'm afraid to stop rambling and be still, because then I don't know what will happen - I'll probably be overcome with fear. I have medicine for anxiety that I already took - actually, it's for panic, which is better for me anyway.
I guess my show "Desperate Housewives" isn't on tonight because of the Academy Awards. Darnit. That really bites.
Thanks for listening, dear sweet blog. I'll record my weight bright and early.
Nighty night - for you, not for me.