It's not easy being me....
2004-07-11 - 9:26 a.m.
Master of my own destiny…..and I got responsibilities….ah, it’s not easy being me.” That’s a line from a song sung in the movie “Popeye” that starred Robin Williams. I absolutely love that movie. Don’t ask me why because I really don’t know. I think my Dad and I are the only ones, too. But that song has been running through my head all morning. I have been trying to shake this mild feeling of depression but it’s taking it’s time.
I have spent months trying to lift myself up from where I was. I have been doing all the healthy crap that you’re supposed to do to “look and feel better” and blah blah blah. The other night I was out at a restaurant with a group of friends and we were having a good old time there. I went into the bathroom and I glanced in the mirror. In that instant I was thinking, “well, you look pretty good tonight”. Ok so I had had 3 beers already but still. Usually when I look in the mirror drinking or not, I manage to see everything that I don’t want to see. I see the aging my face has managed to do (Totally without my permission), I see every pound I have gained in the past five years that I have since struggled with. I see a really bad sense of fashion going on, and my roots coming through again. I try to smile and I scare myself even. Anyway, you get the point. But that night, I saw a woman and she looked kind of cute, dare I say. It was a fleeting moment that had all but disappeared by yesterday.
Last night I went out and tried to be cool. I tried to reminisce about my younger days when I was something. When I could walk in a room and turn a few heads. This was many years ago. I just go through these moments when I meet new people and they see this chunky, frumpy housewife and I feel like they must figure I’ve always been this way. I just want to scream, “No, wait, I was hot once! Really!” Sounds kind of sad to say but I have never denied the fact that I have issues. Yea, issues like Family Circle and Parents, and Woman’s Day and Stuff. That last one is now my husbands. As I was saying, last night I was in that mode and it ended up kicking me in the ass and I was seriously brought down a few pegs. What no one realized is that I was already teetering on the lowest pegs, so the comments that were made really just knocked me right off the ladder and down to the ground. Luckily there were no major cuts. My ego is fragile but my skin is tough.
I sat and cried in front of my computer. Than I went through the whole, “I’ll show them! I’ll show them all! I become what I once was and then they’ll see! I’ll starve and I’ll walk 10 miles a day and I’ll….I’ll…I’ll” I’ll do what? Set myself up for failure because I’m angry? I can’t starve and I can’t shed all this weight over night. I remember when I was young and thin. I knew guys would check out my body and I hated it. I had big boobs but I never showed them. I mean, I tended to wear bigger shirts or sweaters. Back then, I wanted people to look into my eyes and to talk to me, to know the me inside and like that person and not just like me for my body. So why am I worried about body image now? I still want people to look in my eyes and see who I really am inside and like that person. "I got alot of muscles and I only gots one eye, I never hurt nobody and I never tell a lie. What am I? What am I?" I don’t mean men now, I just mean people in general.
I know these sorts of issues are pretty minuscule compared to what other people go through. I had other demons to battle in years gone by though. I should be happy for all that I have and I am, believe me, I am. I got my clearance; I have a new job, a nice home, great kids, etc. Sheesh, now I sound like a whiner. I’m still adjusting to adulthood and I have a ways to go I think. Being a grownup and actually having to act like one is hard. I just want to go watch Popeye.
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