You’re Welcome.

I’m not sure I should do this.  I’m not sure I shouldn’t. I know the last 47 days haven’t been a cake walk. For many people. The past 47 days have changed me. 

47 days ago, I got a phone call that changed me.  

47 days ago,  I tried to talk to you. 

47 days ago, I tried to get ANYONE to help me reach you. I got no help. I was on my own. 

47 days ago, I made a decision to let someone else make the decision. A decision I supported.  A decision I will defend, into the fucking ground. Wanna know why???

You woke up this morning. You’re welcome. 

You got to see your family. Your loved ones. You’re welcome. 

When you get to celebrate another Thanksgiving, Christmas or birthday, you’re welcome. 

When you see the face of that person you love…that person that lives around the corner that wouldn’t pick a phone up when I called…but when you see that face and smile, you’re welcome. 

When you laugh, brush your teeth, put on your shoes, you’re fucking welcome. 

Cause see…for 47 days, I’ve missed you.  The ability to call you, to confide in you, to laugh and to share joy and fear.  

For 47 days, I have been ignored, ditched, dismissed and forgotten. 

For 47 days, I have cried, bargained with God, begged, gotten angry…because of you. 

For 47 days, I have replayed conversations, moments, secrets…and I doubt all of it.  Because of you. 

You made a stupid fucking choice.  You, not me.  Yet, instead of letting me hold you up and supporting you, instead of letting me help you, you went with the stupid fucking decision. 

The last words I have from you are “Fuck you, this friendship is over.  You are dead to me.” 

So…after many sleepless nights, after many drained days…I’m done.  I’m over it. You are on your own. I get it. I screwed up, only, I didn’t screw up. You did.  Not me…

I hope you grow up.  I’m hopeful new people in your life will have your back. Unconditionally…because until you pushed me away, I did. Even after you did, I still kept trying. I kept texting, calling, emailing..and got nothing. 

Yep. 47 days.  My life is changing in many ways, with the exception of this, it’s all been a blessing. But I can’t share the great things happening in my life with you…because you wrote me off.

I won’t bother you again.  You’re welcome. 

A Day In the Life.

On July 23rd, I was jolted.  A life altering jolt.

I went to the doctor for a yearly physical…those are fun.  What’s really fun is when your doctor takes a look at you, looks at your chart and states “I’m concerned about your weight, I’m concerned about your blood pressure, I’m concerned you’re pre-diabetic and I’m concerned about your history with heart disease…”

Fast forward two weeks, I’m back, for grueling results…I’m heavier than I have ever been, my resting blood pressure is too high, my cholesterol is outta sight, I’m severely anemic and I AM pre-diabetic. I was/wasn’t ready for this. She sternly looked at me and said, “you need to fix this NOW, there’s no other option.”

She put me on a gluten free, 1,000 calorie per day diet.  Clean eating, she called it.  She gave me a diet plan and some God-awful protein that I am to drink each day.

Our air was out, so our dear friends WarriorGirl and DynaHusband were letting us bunk with them…I realized, standing in their living room, I had hit.a.wall.  I stood in their living room, looking at my wife and decided it was time to be accountable.

For the first time in six years, I broke down and told my wife my darkest secret….I told her what I weigh. What that horrible, shameful number was…she told me she loved me.

WarriorGirl walked in, I told her all of it, except the shameful number through my tears.  I look up, shocked at my response to being a fat girl and said “I’m so sorry!!!! You fucking beat cancer, I’m whining because I ate too much Taco Bell…I’m a shit.”  She looked at me, said “I beat it, now I am here for you.”

The daughter has told me everyday I needed it that I can do this…that she knows I can…she inspires me with her words.  The notion of my grandchildren to come and her honest words, drives me forward.

The Boy, telling me how pretty I am, how his face shows worry when I stumble…when he wants to have breakfast with me and worries that I can find something to eat at McDonalds. (not easy, but I make it work)…that I can lead by example, drives me forward.

The wife, who offers me “treats” I say no, she smiles and tells me how proud she is.  She will tell anyone she is proud of me. The dream of growing old with her, watching our grandchildren and living our dream…drives me forward.

Now,  six weeks later, I can honestly say, I love my doctor.  I love my sweet friends.  I love my family. I love my life.

Six weeks ago, I started clean eating, reaaaaallly clean.  No bread, no pasta, very little dairy and no refined sugar.  Clean proteins, veggies, fruits and nuts/oils. And that horrible protein drink. Every day, without fail, within 15 minutes of waking up, I have drank 12 ounces of terrible protein and 18 ounces of water and a handful of vitamins, or tiny blood pressure pill and the arthritis medicine.  Every day….rain or shine.

Now, six weeks later, I can honestly say, I am down 21 pounds…3 1/2 inches….and from what I can gather, one to two sizes.

I no longer have headaches, my knee is 10 billion percent better, I have more energy, my blood pressure is completely normal.

First time I went for a check up, my doctor was thrilled, she smiled, we joked…she was proud of me.   It felt awesome.

No one can see it yet.  I can. I see it in photos.  I see it in my clothes…it’s much like a deck chair blowing off the Titanic to everyone else, but I’m beginning to notice. My food falls in my lap, not stopping at my chest.  I can see my lap. We are talking gym memberships. I don’t recognize myself.

I worried it was going to be too expensive to eat right, that our grocery bill was going to explode.  It hasn’t.  We’ve adjusted and cook more…I eat less, so my portions are way smaller, I haven’t had seconds in 6 weeks. I can’t finish the servings my doctor has set in place for me.

I tell you this because I have to continue to hold myself accountable. I do this because I feel inspired, I feel like a new person.

For the first time, in 25 years…I feel proud of me.

For the first time, in 25 years…I love me.

Whew….that’s a mouthful.

My friends, my family, worry about where we go eat.  I have learned to be a spontaneous eater…in a good way.  I can find something everywhere we go. My tastes are changing. I’m more adventurous with food now, I mix things I would have never mixed before,  I create salads and dishes of good stuff, from my imagination and they work. I’m excited about food, in the best way.

The wife and the boy don’t eat everything like I do….there are still chips and burgers and sugary stuff the house, but it doesn’t interest me.

And let me be fair…my system has changed…I can’t eat greasy.  I can’t eat junk food or bread…it upsets my digestive system to the point the two times I have, I’ve ended up in bed, miserable.

I honestly don’t miss it. Crazy, huh?

I dream about burgers….I miss queso. Thanksgiving oughta be interesting,  but I am up for that challenge.

The Stae Fair is weeks ahead of me and I have already stated, I will wreck my system for a corny dog…don’t judge me. It’s fucking Fletcher’s.

Here’s a side story…I share a lot of my life with my staff…we are a small gang of misfits…but…I shared my new diet…we had a potluck as we are prone to for any occasion…these wonderful women, followed my food plan and planned a potluck around me…for another persons birthday….on my clean eating!!!! They continue to make sure I eat right, go to restaurants I can eat at and bring me lunches I can eat. They are the goods.

I guess the moral of this story is…trust those you love.  They will hold you up. They will hold you accountable. They will love you through it. Believe in you, reach for the dreams and love yourself. A lot.

I go to the doctor next week for another check up…I am no longer dreading it.

Just watch me shrink.

You bother me.

I am becoming that old lady…you know, the one in her housecoat and sock/slipper combo…the one that stands on the front porch screaming at people.

Only I don’t have a front porch. Or a housecoat.  And I want new slippers.

But I do have this here blog.  I use it a lot to scream at people.  Typically, to think of others and to try and be a better person.  Mostly, to talk about how I’m always in a bad mood and how I allow others to dictate my moods.  How I allow others to hurt my feelings because people suck in general and don’t care.

so, I have this blog…let me tell you a “few” things that bother me.

  • Untied shoes.  How lazy can you be?  bend in the middle, make rabbit ears, loop one over the other and pull.  And you don’t trip and fall and look stupid.  You’re welcome.
  • Lip liner that is darker than your lipstick.  Or lip liner and no lipstick.  Who taught you that?  Who tells you that is a good look?  it’s not.  stop doing it.
  • Leggings worn as pants.  Unless you are wearing a long sweater, tunic or dress…stop wearing these as pants.  It’s not sexy.  I can see your underwear. Or lack of said underwear.
  • If you see me eating, don’t stop and decide to have a doctoral dissertation with me about anything.  I am eating…mouth is full of food, not words.  If you have to speak to me, ask me a question I can nod or shake my head to.  If it’s more, then wait for me to finish…you aren’t a waiter.
  • Stop turning your young daughters into whores.  If they are under the age of 18 they should not be gyrating like a stripper.  DON’T get me started on the twerking thing.  Don’t turn your child into a prostitot.
  • The fact that Hollywood is remaking every movie of my childhood.  Leave John Hughes movies alone…for the love of all things holy.
  • That TNT cancelled Dallas.
  • That ABC cancelled Pushing Daisies.
  • That Liz is still in the house.  Or that I have to watch her with Austin.  Ugh.
  • The fact that my wife has not realized I purposefully leave the toilet paper roll empty…or that it is the same toilet paper roll and I change it out to mess with her.  I’ve done this since June…she hasn’t said a word…now that I have put this out here, she will say she’s known all along.
  • That the Boy has to have the last word.  I thought that was a female thing…is it a teenage thing?
  • Miley Cyrus.  And that anyone has the absolute worst taste to like anything about her.
  • Caitlyn Jenner.  I’m over her, the notoriety of it all….she plays the victim so well, she should carry her own body chalk.  I don’t know that she’s done anything to advance the transgender conversation…has she?  Did I miss it?  Did she help?  Cause I all I remember is she is a transgender woman that thinks others “like her” get too many handouts.  How very republican of said woman.  I quit listening.
  • Duggar anything.  Quickly followed by Kim Davis anything.  Quickly followed by Donald Trump anything.  Stupid bothers me, they have it in spades.
  • Kids on Mountain Dew.  Just give them crack.  For reals…that drink is terrible for anyone…especially a kid sitting, standing, jumping, dancing all at once in front of me at a football game.
  • Don’t tell me you are on a diet as I watch you eat a double burger and you call it a “cheat day”.  I haven’t had a burger in months.  You’re a dick.
  • The fact that I haven’t had a burger and am actually still counting in days.  Like it’s actually been 67 days and I changed that in the fact above to look less mental.
  • My protein drink in the mornings.  I call it butthole protein.  I imagine if I had to taste a butthole, it’s what one would taste like.  I have tried everything to make it better.  Nothing helps.  But I like the results of the protein, so I have decided to continue drinking the butthole protein….only I take it like a shot of liquor.  if I can get it down in 15 seconds, I am better….anything longer, I want to cry.
  • The fact that I can’t find the house shoes I want, in my size, in red.

But thank you for letting me scream.  You all make me smile.