Today I am sad.
I’m sad because I don’t feel like I’m in control of my own life. I feel like I am too often living at the whim of others … J, Darwin, my mom, etc. Most of the time I don’t notice. Today it makes me sad.
I’m sad because I’m fat. I’m not saying it to fish for compliments or reassurances, so please don’t bother. I’m saying it because it’s true. My son is almost a year old and I haven’t lost a single pound of the baby weight. I weigh 150 pounds, I’m 5’3, and until just recently I haven’t done anything about it. I joined a gym a week ago and was fully expecting that the weight would just come flying off. It, of course, did not. Who was I kidding? It’s going to take hard work to get it off, and that prospect scares me.
I’m sad because I’m scared. I’m so sick and fucking tired of living my life like this terrified little creature. You know what? I’m strong. I’m totally powerful. I gave birth to a 7lb 13oz baby without ever once really considering medication. It hurt like fucking hell but I knew how I wanted my child to be born, I knew what I wanted my labor experience to be like, so I pushed through the pain. Now you tell me, why can’t I live my entire life like that? Why can’t I always be the strong, powerful woman who I was that day? Why do I normally live my life like a complete chickenshit?
I’m sad because I don’t want to be writing all this. I don’t want to always be complaining about the same old shit. I want for things to change! I want to be living the life I actually want to be living. I don’t want to have to bore you all with the same old drivel.
And I’m also sad because I wanted to go see a movie and go out to lunch, but it didn’t happen. So now I’m sulking. Ain’t I just the most annoying thing in the world?