I don’t feel much like writing.
My head’s all messed up, but I’m “ok.”
On Sunday, we packed up the kids and left for a little get away. I had a wonderful time. How could I NOT with those beautiful children by my side? However, not a minute went by that I was not aware of how digusting my body is, of how fat I am, of how unhappy I am with myself.
I had to fight those feelings the entire time.
And for some reason, I haven’t felt like “fighting these feelings” here. Writing is cheap therapy for me, it’s always been a good way for me to “get things out.” For some reason, I’m feeling highly vulnerable right now. Also? I’m feeling very mixed about The Internet” at the moment. On one hand, there are all of these incredibly amazing, kind, compassionate, understanding, supportive people who read this. I’m overwhemled with how much love I recieve from people who read this. On the other hand? There are fake, phony, attention whoring, mean people who read this. Some of them pretend to care about me, but, it’s totally obvious all they care about is how popular they are, and how many “big name bloggers” notice them. And I’m mad and pissed that I let myself get close to them. So pissed that it makes me want to walk away from this, but then, I snap out of it and realize that The Good People mean so much more.
And man, there are some really good people who read this blog.
Last night, I spoke on the phone with a writer from Wired. She started the interview by telling me that she had spent an hour reading my blog. That I was a great writer (A professional! Said I was a great writer!) She told me she was touched by things I wrote, that she laughed at things I wrote and that she really could relate to my struggle with The Fat. Later that night, we emailed back and forth a few times and at one point, I said “maybe we could Do Starbucks sometime, Then, you can see that I am not lying when I talk about my weight and how gross I am! (shhhh don’t tell my husband I said that, he’ll get PISSED.)”
Funny, no?
Well, she didn’t think so, her response is stuck in my head and I don’t think I’ll forget it anytime soon.
the way i see it, if we women keep telling our lovers that we’re huge and gross, eventually they will believe us .. and then that steady stream of “you’re beautiful” dries up … and then perhaps we drive them to go find a woman who isn’t huge and gross (translation: who doesn’t tell them she’s huge and gross, because the men wouldn’t have noticed if we hadn’t old them … )
i’m not saying that you’ll lose your husband if you don’t shut up. LMAO!!! i’m just saying that since you’re NOT huge and gross, and your husband knows it and I know it, it makes me wonder what’s really behind it. what’s the real worry there? that someone won’t love us, or that we’ree not deserving of love, and as long as we are “huge and gross” we can pretend it’s because of that rather than admit what evil disgusting people we really are inside?