NOT TAKING my scales away with me & never weigh myself at any time other than first thing in the morning so won't know until tomorrow what I weigh. I enjoyed the short break holiday in Wales, and walked everywhere, something I can't face doing at home. The food at the hotel was amazing and it was a revelation to eat healthily, something I've not done in such ages.
I cried though; I hate myself as I am now and there was a really nice chap at the hotel who waited on us. It was embarrasing - I know at 10st 13 I would have had the confidence to make eye contact & chat to him but as I am now I could barely look in his direction when he was talking. I'm sure he thought I was being rude, but truthfully I was thinking how can I start up a conversation with him when he's most likely thinking "God almighty she's a bit fat and unattractive". So to that chap, I apologise you had the misfortune to have to look at me.
get to this awful point? Seventeen years ago I was having the time of my life and working abroad (well if you can call going to war working abroad). I was a 10-12 had all the attention, and more, that I could have wished for. We worked hard and played hard, and I loved it. It was like M*A*S*H with palm trees and it was an amazing time, when I fell in love for the first and last time (I wouldn't say anymore because I remain loyal to his memory . even though he has long since forgotten me I expect,but we did meet several times in the subsequent years).
Anyway how did I go from that happy go lucky dizzy blonde in combats by day and beautifuly dressed by night, to a depressed overweight unattractive nobody who only ventures out of the door (literally) to go to work? What happened? I don't know but my C.O. once said to me "S**** go home have a t********** otherwise it will ruin your career". He also said "S**** make the most of this darling because it will never get as good as this again". Now there was a phrophet if ever there was one. If I could answer my own question I would be back to being S**** again, instead of being invisible.
weight just a different day 13st 12.5. My bruises hurt and the fact that he acts like absolutely nothing has happened and expects me to be completely normal with him is unbelievable. When I can bring myself to speak to him I am giving him one of two options; he either goes to counselling (and I will go to) or the next time (because there WILL be a next time) I call the police.
the will and motivation to care about myself. I've taken to my bed and on Friday had to defend myself against my own son (again), who went for me like a man would go for another man in a brawl. The worst though was when he taunted me about my weight and mocked me mercessly until I was hunched up in tears - then he mocked me more for crying. The words hurt more than the bruises I have.
