Tuesday, March 24, 2009

No More Walking On Eggshells....



Walking On Eggshells…

That’s what I’ve been doing of late. And I am so fucking tired of it and I know that Lia will be after me for my potty mouth, but that’s the only way I can think to say it and get across my frustration.

I’ve pretty much stopped blogging on both of my blogs. I censor what I write and I hide the real me and show people the me that I think they want to see.

BUT….

I have some lovely friends out there in the blog world and they love me for WHO I am, not what I am and most certainly not what I look like. Most of these lovely women are figure competitors or past competitors who look amazing, who come across as full of confidence and like they belong up there. And they are among the group who accept me for who I am.

Warts and all.

I am so tired of feeling like I have to conform to what society thinks I am supposed to look like. I’m not one of the lucky ones who manages to eat what they want and still look good. I have to work my ass off in the gym and even then I still struggle to lose weight. I have about 50 kilos to lose and this is the first time that I have ever admitted it publicly.

The question is why?

Because I’m ashamed of the condition I am in. I am ashamed to admit that nobody did this to me, but me.

How is that for a confession?

The other reason for my walking on eggshells is the ex monster and the fact that she scours my blogs and tries to glean every single piece of information she can from them and that not only annoys me but it bothers me.

It bothers me because I know she is not brave enough to face a fight without playing dirty or what she believes is dirty. I know she thinks I’m fat. No surprise there. Because I am. I know she thinks it’s funny to talk about me and my weight problems behind my back. I know she doesn’t hesitate to slander me to anyone that will listen and then try to twist their feelings to make them hate me before they even lay eyes on me.

I have no doubt that I am the butt of many of her jokes. And up until today it bothered me. It bothered me greatly and I don’t mind confessing that I’ve shed many tears over it. I shouldn’t but I do. Why? Because again, I’m human and if you cut me, I’ll bleed.

But today has been the turning point. Not only for me, but for Michael as well, because both of us are tired of walking on eggshells around ex’s, around kids, around anyone who wants to get in the way.

How sad is your life, if you have to talk about someone’s weight and make them the butt of your jokes when you don’t even know the person you are talking about.
So let’s put it out there shall we?

The photo’s on my face book are not me. I have never professed that they were. And I have never had any intention of doing so. I don’t have my photo up there because I don’t have many photo’s of me that I actually like and in the beginning I never really cared to much about what people thought. Now that I have made friends with a lot of the people on my list, I feel they have the right to know the truth.

I’M FAT. VERY FAT. FATTER THAN I SHOULD BE. BUT NOT AS FAT AS I WAS A FEW YEARS AGO.

I don’t use people’s weight, their looks, their dress sense or their skin colour against them. Why? Because I know what it’s like to have it done to me. And I wouldn’t want to cause anyone that pain.

I have bi-polar.

Wow, who doesn’t have a mental illness these days?

I take medication for it, my doctor and my psychologists monitor it and my husband helps me deal with it as well.

God forbid I should be allowed out in public or around children, perhaps it would be safer to lock me up and throw away the key.

I have to work hard to keep my eating under control and I am sure that I’m not the only person who confesses to that. I am sure there are many, many people out there who have the same problem. I guess there are just some out there who think they are perfect but they need to remember that people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

Should they?

I have to work hard in the gym and I do. I am not one of the gym girlies who wears make up and doesn’t sweat. I train with my husband and he pushes me hard. Yes I sweat in there, I stomp my feet and I even grunt and groan like a meat head. Good lord above. Somebody alert the media.

Am I coming across as sarcastic? Because I’m not trying to. Much.

All I know is this.

I’m fat. I need to lose weight and I am. Not as fast as I would like but it’s happening and when it does happen it will stay off. I’m not perfect, I won’t ever claim to be. My husband doesn’t like bigger women, so I’m lucky that he loves me enough to help me lose it and contrary to popular belief I’m not doing it to keep him. I’ve never been the whiney, sooky kind of woman who needs a man to make me feel fulfilled. I have bi-polar and I manage it as best I can.

So if people think that I am going to censor my posts for the sake of one person anymore, then they are dead fucking wrong. This is my blog and I’ll say whatever the fuck I like. As long as I don’t denigrate anyone here, then there is nothing anyone can do or say.

So *I* am going back to my happy place and my happy life and my wonderful but at times stressful relationship with my Michael. The people who come here and read and don’t like what they say better use the big red X in the corner and just piss off before their poor teeny feelings get hurt. And they best not let the door hit them in the ass on the way out. Cos last time I checked *I* controlled my life. If reading about my less than perfect life takes the heat off the monsters than hey, I’m glad to help. Cos I have something that they won’t ever have.

And that is Michael’s love and that’s just the way it is. Not to mention the gorgeous group of women I call my friends.

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to take my fat ass off to cook dinner. Cos I am gonna win the bet I have with my husband at the end of the week. Ed Hardy jeans here I come.

I feel better now.
Posted by Lisa Jane :: 5:06 PM :: 5 Comments:

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