I have a problem with weakness. I don’t like people who whine and complain about their circumstances–past or present. I am a staunch proponent for lifting yourself up, overcoming obstacles, and moving on. I don’t like to be around people who whine and seek sympathy. I despise their weakness…and now I know why.
Have you ever heard that we hate what we see in others that reflects what is inside of us? That’s me. Took all this time for me to realize it.
While I might not whine and complain verbally, I whine and complain every time I buy a king-sized Butterfinger or a bag of Hot Cheetos. Every time i load my plate up with greasy food and drink sugary sodas oreat a salad drenched in fatty salad dressing or buy a box of cookies or a tub of ice cream or a huge burger or a slushy or–well, you get the point. Every time I emotionally eat, I become the pitiful whiner I so despise and I hate myself for it.
It’s a stupid-ass, dumb, brainless cycle and I’m just plain, point-blank tired of it. Another failed attempt to get control of my eating habits has left me feeling less than human and I’m hot diggity dog tired of it!
I declare right now, as angry tears hit my keyboard that I am taking control of my life and my emotions. No longer will my erratic, unpredictable, hormonal emotions rule me.
I have tortured myself long enough. I let my parents’ jacked up relationship and subsequent divorce put me on this self-destructive road years ago. Then I spent years upon years trying to win any and every one’s approval, I made stupid decisions which led to stupid mistakes and bad relationships and crazy insecurities and now, hundreds of extra pounds that I don’t even remember gaining. I swear, I just woke up one morning and I was fat!
I am tired, tired, tired! Sick and tired. Good and tired. Dog tired. Tired with a capital T. Just tired!!
Last night, after eating some greasy chicken that I didn’t even enjoy, and washing it down with some Coke, I fell to my knees and begged God to help me. I begged and pleaded, pleaded and begged, and then begged and pleaded some more and then I went to bed. When I woke up this morning, I could hear God telling me to be raw and real with myself. No more flowery words or lame excuses–just rawness and realness. So this is me–raw and real. I hate what I’ve done to my body and to my life. I deserve better. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.
It’s my time. I’m done letting anyone–my family, my friends, my kids, the mailman–anyone or their opinions of me, or their impositions, or expectations, send me any further down the road to self-destruction.
Watch me work.