Part 1 – Tempted to look her up on Facebook
I’ll call her J. And up until a few months ago we worked together.
I was (and still am) in a relationship and J had a huge, HUGE crush on one of the guys from upstairs. Our conversations were often about men and relationships. I had ended up back in a relationship rather soon after the one before it had ended and maybe I’d missed out on some much needed me time so I was struggling to adapt. J was a great sounding board for me. She has a wonderful gift for listening, really listening, to what I had to say and also what I didn’t say. She herself wouldn’t say very much, ask the odd little question maybe, but mostly she would listen.
Then on my drive home I would think back on our conversation and her questions, the ones I could not answer at the time. And in that hour long drive it would all come together for me, all the hours of agonising would come together into one succinct message that was clear and understandable. And finally I would have it really figured out and could then start on the way forward.
This all thanks to my conversations with J; she’d make an awesome therapist but she has chosen to be a tour guide instead. I miss her.
Part 2 – Being my own
So, in conclusion, the only way I can successfully loose weight is if I have some fatty failing miserably along side me.
It sounds just awful, doesn’t it, but let me explain.
For more than half my life I have had a weight problem. I’ve tried many a diet and only succeeded in slowly getting fatter. Then about three years ago I caught sight of my naked self in a full length mirror (something I had managed to avoid) and I was revolted by the sight.
It was a turning point; I simply could not go on that way any more.
It was a painful eighteen months but I managed to shed a third of me along the way.
I didn’t do this diet thing on my own though, I had help. I worked with a lady, call her K, that was also keen to loose weight. Her and I both had spouses that seemed hell bent on sabotaging our efforts. Hers would often stop by work to deliver her some KFC for lunch; mine would come home on Fridays laden with weekend goodies.
It’s not easy when you don’t get any support at home, it’s hard to say no to cupcakes and KFC when it’s being offered by someone who supposedly loves you more than anything.
One day K actually divided her KFC between two plates and placed one in front of me. I said “thank you but no thank you”.
It drove her dilly that I could say no. And in that moment I discovered that it made me feel all smug and superior because I had. So from then on that is pretty much how it went. For every time that K would cave, I’d stick to my plan; at the end of it I was several sizes smaller and she wasn’t.
It wasn’t very nice or very fair to K that I used her so, even though she didn’t know anything at all about it. At the time I was so filled with self loathing that I could only go one of two ways – finally loose the weight or literally eat myself to death. And I was leaning closer to the latter. I used whatever means necessary to keep going.
Over the last year though I’ve noticed the weight creeping back on. Oh sure, we’re only talking about a few kilos but it’s a few kilos too many. This is how it starts, trust me.
I know how to get rid of it and keep it off but the willpower is not as powerful as it once was so I’ve been thinking about why that is. The really bitchy conclusion I came to was my opening line above.
There is no more K and actually it’s better that way. I have someone better in mind. You see, no matter what size I am there is a fat girl that resides in my head and I’ve realised that she is probably going to be there for good so she might as well make herself useful.
So my inner fat girl will become my replacement K and whenever I am tempted I will just imagine my inner fat girl giving in to the temptation and then I get to be all smug when I don’t.
She will be my new BFF, my Big Fat Friend. I will loose the weight and BFF will finally have some purpose in life. We both win.
Part 3 – About a house
More than anything I want a home of my own. But I can’t afford it. I earn a good salary and I am debt free yet no bank will lend me enough money to buy a modest home for myself. I had become convinced that either I was aiming to high in the home stakes or I was doing something desperately wrong.
Then at work yesterday I had a conversation with a colleague. She said something along the lines of “everybody always says why you renting, you could be paying your own place off but hello, who can afford a bond repayment when rent is actually so much cheaper. The only way we’re going to to be able to afford to buy a place is if we do it with somebody”.
For so long now I’ve been convinced that I am the problem, that I’m missing some thing that everyone else has which is why I am the only one dealing with this. It was a relief to hear her say that, to know that I am not alone.
I originally wrote this as part rant, part whine, part woe-is-me, part bitch session, part I-don’t-give-a-damn-anymore, part screw-this, part maybe I am the problem, part I just want to console myself with cupcakes.
It was long and complicated and it was really all my thoughts on an issue he and I are facing right now. But instead of hitting publish last night, I slept on it and this morning I spoke to him instead. It was a long conversation and at the end of it we had still not found a resolution to the issue.
Part 3 doesn’t have a conclusion, bitchy or otherwise. It’s still a work in progress.