Turning Point.

I woke up with some clarity today.

I did not go to work. I never do that.

I think I needed today to get my head wrapped around some things.

And I'm remembering who I am, parting the clouds of fog that have hung around me for months and months now. I've been so lost and confused, and I know things don't change over night, but something in me must have snapped.

I want to start from the beginning, so you may all understand where I am, where I've been, all the things I left out by avoiding this place.

First of all, I left my home, my family, everything I knew. I moved several hundred miles away to live with my boyfriend, who is the one thing I have never doubted or feared in this terrible world. He is my home, he is everything to me. We complete each other in a fairy tale kind of way.

It was endless happiness, snuggling, cuddling and bliss between the sheets. Everything seemed like a fantastic new adventure to us; grocery shopping was the epic journey of two lovers, hunting for forgotten treasures and returning to their native shores to indulge in the spoils of their voyage. I had no job, my purpose in life was to live in his bed and spoil him, taking him to and from his job, keeping our love nest sparkling and cozy and full of our favorite things, so when he returned at the end of a long day I could woo and pamper him to sleep.

Each day I forgot about my weight a little more. I indulged a little too much. I laughed a little too loudly.

That was in June of last year. 

I got a job in August. My first real, serious job. I started it feeling very depressed (I believe I blogged briefly about that). It seemed like suddenly life wasn't as lovely as it use to be. Still, coming home was rainbows and sunshine and we would sink into the gigantic fluffiness of our cozy bed and the depression would melt away. 

Also -

I ripped a pair of my favorite jeans.

As in, my ass had become so LARGE that my jeans could no longer contain them -

They were exploding, bursting through the seams because they had become so GIGANTIC.

I cried for a moment, and then stopped caring.

Unbelievable.

I want to mention, our sex life has changed so much since June. I think it's in part due to my outward appearance, and in part because my appearance has turned my inside self into a CRAZY bitch.

I have put so much pressure on him about having sex. I have questioned him so many times, asking him why we don't have  sex as often as we use to, asking him what about me is so repulsive, prying, begging him to tell me I need to lose weight so that maybe I would have a reason to. He wouldn't budge, he just gets frustrated, and then I cry and wish I had never said anything. He loves me so much, and he is so forgiving, but I just want affirmation CONSTANTLY. I want to have sex every night so I can wake the next day knowing I'm still pretty. Alas, I'm not pretty anymore. I'm fat.

I also want to mention that we have dabbled in threesomes. Only with other women.

I should have known this was not something I could handle. I am attracted to women certainly. I think women are just lovely. We ARE the fairer sex. I like to draw women, I like to study them. But the jealousy that bubbled up inside of me was truly not expected. I would be an emotional wreck for weeks after we had a threesome, constantly changing my mind about whether or not I wanted to keep having them. He of course got upset, angry that I lied about being "okay" and (I think) angry that I no longer wanted to let him play with four boobs instead of two. I think these may have helped to kill our sex life. 

One night I couldn't handle it anymore, and told him the truth about how I felt about it all.

He seemed upset at first, and then, as I was sobbing, he held me and apologized for asking those things of me, and holding me still, kissing away tears and squeezing me gently, he laughed softly, warmly and told me it was so silly that we were getting so worked up about it - that the solution was simple: We would never have a threesome again. And he was not sad, he just loved me, and didn't want to see me unhappy.

We have had sex only once since then, to this very day.

And now there's a very loud voice in my head that screams: 

"You're not enough to turn him on. He needs another woman. You're NOT ENOUGH."

As if I didn't have enough messed-up inner-dialogue going on.

By December my job had improved. I had friends there, I got a raise and a better position that was more artistic and more like what I wanted to be doing. Christmas morning we were at my parents' house, my old home, unwrapping gifts and laughing. He became very serious when all of the gifts had been unwrapped and turned to me and said, "Alright, please don't get angry. I know we said we wouldn't do gifts for each other for Christmas, but there's something I have to give you..." And he stood up in front of me, "I know this seems like such a forgone conclusion, but," and he got down on one knee, and I felt tears trickle down my face, my breath dead in my chest and my hands clutching his knees as he held out a tiny black box. He opened it to reveal the most beautiful little ring I have ever seen.

 "Will you marry me?"

We had champagne, and life was beautiful. I was floating about on cloud nine for weeks.

But my hips and thighs showed clear signs of the stress and chaos that was still buried within me.

They were swelling, bulging, jiggling.

My birthday came in January. I turned 20. I told myself it should be a turning point, but nothing really changed. I kept eating. And eating. And eating. AND EATING. And getting fatter and fatter and FATTER.

I haven't weighed myself since May of last year, since I was last actively blogging here. 

So I can't tell you how bad the damage is, but truly, it is bad.

About a week ago we had wine and chocolate before bed. I can't remember how all of it went, but I fell asleep in the living room, and woke up in a terrible mood, thinking he had gone to bed without me and left me sleeping on the couch, and for some reason this was very painful to me. I stormed into our room and glared at him, then promptly went to bed without a word. He joined me moments later, asking, frustrated, why I had gotten so angry with him for absolutely no reason. (I really have been a crazy bitch, wasn't kidding.) I just started crying and told him I didn't know and didn't want to talk about it. He got more frustrated, I cried for a while. We never fight, this was certainly not a fight, just me being dramatic and him at a loss for how to console me.

And then he said some things that shocked me, and I think, changed me.

"I find you so exhausting anymore. It's just exhausting to try to get you to care about life. We have so much potential and we could be doing so many great things but you just don't care. I have enough trouble being motivated, I can't keep trying to hold you up too. You've got to atleast try. I want us to be a team."

I apologized, said he was right, and pretended to fall asleep while I sobbed silently until the alarm went off and I got ready for work.

A few days passed, and I was dark and dreary. I stayed late at work just so I didn't have to go home and pretend to be happy for him. One night I went to the grocery store, wandering around for an extra hour, again to avoid having to fake a smile. And I think this was the start of the change, the turning point. I picked out nothing but fruit and veggies, low-cal salad dressing, and then went home and ate a salad.

I think it was enough to remind me, that I am where I was longing to be for so long.

I don't live with my parents. I have complete control of my life now.

Maybe that's why I lost control completely, I don't know.

But I can eat however I want.

I can do whatever I want.

I can run at 3am if I want to.

I can FAST if I want to.

The ball is in my court. 

The choice is mine.

Why have I been choosing food?

I can still hear voices telling me how tasty tacos are, how wonderful ranch dressing tastes on everything, but you know what? It's time to forget all that. It's time to focus again on what truly matters, who I truly want to be, who I have always wanted to be, and what I have lost sight of. 

THIN.

It's time to be motivated, to be positive, to turn this relationship back into what it was. I'm strong enough to do this, I know I am. All I need is to start feeling good about myself again, and that starts with eating healthier, eating less, moving more. 

I'm determined. I'm done feeling fat, this has gone on for nearly a year and that's completely unacceptable.

I'm back ladies, please send me some courage to face the scale. 

<3 Love and hugs,

Ro.