Food addiction and Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving.  For those of us who suffer from food addiction, it really is a horrible holiday.  I have tried to not like it, though, but I cannot.  I just like to have fun and make a rice krispie treat turkey and drink wine.  I don't know.  Just something about the day.  I am planning to try to be good.  We will see how far that gets me.  I have been doing well.  The other day, I actually forgot to eat lunch.  Talk about progress.  That was the first time it ever happened in my entire life.

Beautiful

So my hubby asked me last night if I ever felt beautiful. I really had to think.  Certainly not on my wedding day.  Definitely not at the senior prom.  I HATED my hair.  My mother rolled it.  It looked ok.  My dress was pretty, though, and it fit really well.  An added bonus is that I can still fit into it!  I felt beautiful at the junior prom.  The irony is that I was in a $30 dress.  I was very thin and knew it!!  I felt beautiful while wearing a light blue sequin dress with cut outs this past summer.  Yes, that night I felt great!  So few moments, though.  It got me thinking if that was just me or the legacy left by my mother who would often tell me in high school that people would make remarks about my "thunder thighs" in my cheer leading skirts.  She would do it under the premise that she was worried I would hear someone, but, of course, the only person I ever heard make that remark was her.  I wonder what she would say now if she saw me in a bikini.  My guess is that she would analyze the somewhat excessive skin around my waist and tell me that I needed a one piece.  The thing I realized last night is that when I look in the mirror, I hear her voice telling me every negative comment she could possibly come up with.  Every time.  Every now and then I will see a picture of myself and think, "God I am thin and pretty."  That is not what I see in the mirror, though.  My mind pics apart the skin around my middle or the skin hanging on my thighs.  Those are things no matter what I do, I can never get rid of.  I used to weigh over 200 pounds.  Skin does not recover from that.  Nor does it recover from 3 pregnancies, not completely anyways.  Sometimes I just want to tell that voice to shut the F up.  I feel the same way when I see my mother now.  She tells me now, of course that I am a size four to six how pretty I am.  It is too late.  Much, much too late.  There are too many years of that voice picking every thing about my appearance apart to ever recover from it so I sit here feeling inferior to every woman, feeling like my hubby will find someone else so much more attractive than I am and simply walk away, and feeling scared and tired and ugly.  I have promised myself not to do the same damage to my daughter.  I hope I will not.  I don't want her looking in the mirror at 30-something and picking apart everything about herself.  I don't want her to ever have that voice.

Universe 2. Tiffy 0

So my son has a stomach virus.  So do I.  I get it.  This is the real reason why the universe changed plans & kept me from running the marathon Sat.  I guess I should feel better but I had a wonderful day of leisure planned that I desperately needed.  Here I sit awake because I cannot sleep.  My son will be home tomorrow too.  I do feel so bad for him.  The universe clearly wins this round.

Interesting & true

In this book I am reading, it says, "People enter into marriage with a longing that their partners will tend to their wounds & not throw salt in them.". That being said, it got me thinking about what my hubby's wounds from his youth are.  As much as I say I know people, I am having a hard time figuring that one out.  Is it related to the fact that he never dated or the way his mother made him "man of the house" or his father's absence or  the lack of support he felt growing up?  He seems so confident & put together most of the time so as I sit here, I cannot help but wonder what wound he brings to us.  I know there is one but what is it?  I am very self aware to the point where therapists comment on that like it is a bad thing so I know full well the myriad of wounds with which he has to manage each day that come from me.  But what about his...  Do I already know?  I tend to not fight fair so I might be able to identify by looking at the insults I lobb his way during fights. Tough one.  I am not sure I really know.  Need to think more.

Upper hand.

I am a total dope in so many ways.  I really need some help.  Something is really wrong with me.  I am always working trying to figure out the best way to keep everyone at a distance.  Why?  So many things run through my head to get closer to people but I cannot tell them.  My mouth will not allow the words to come out.  It is so sad.  I want to love deeply and be loved deeply, but my mind will not allow it.  Too much self-preservation, I suppose.  Why can't I let go.  I want to but I cannot.  Something is holding me back.  What is it?  Why can't I get close to people?  Is my sense of trust that destroyed?