Just Angry

I'm a big believer in the idea that you get what you give.  You put out grouchy, you get grouchy back.  You put out shenanigans, you get shenanigans.  You put out rainbow unicorns, you get rainbow unicorns--and probably a cover on the "National Enquirer."  All of that is to say, I've had a whole lot of anger...& I didn't really want to put that out there because that's not the life I want to build for myself or my family.  The problem with anger is that even if you don't give it voice, it manages to seep through the cracks.  It's on your face.  It's in your body language.  It's in your voice, if not your words. 

I've been absent from blogging because I thought I could choke down my anger & get myself level-set without letting out the beast.  But in the past six months I've alienated myself & picked away at my relationships & hidden from my feelings & avoided everyone that wasn't in my innermost circle (which, being a hardcore introvert consists of approximately 5 people--4 of whom I live with).  I've been jealous & whiny & spiteful & mean. 

I'm just so angry.  Angry enough for a list...

I'm angry that I ate my fears when I was so sick while pregnant.  After all I tried to teach myself, when the chips were down, I ate.

I'm angry that I let myself wallow in being sick rather than doing what I could to be as well as possible. 

I'm angry that my body betrayed me after I worked so hard to take care of it.  I'm angry that I may be harboring an illness after I worked so hard to take control of my body. 

I'm angry that I know what "better" feels like.  Last time, every month was better than the last--now I know that this isn't better it's just slightly less awful.

I'm angry that I have to think so hard about food & work so hard to choose not to poison myself with junk. 

I'm angry that I hit "One-derland" today & with the exception of a brief happy dance, I'm still not pleased. 

I'm angry that I can't go work out or go to a Weight Watchers meeting without feeling like I have to make excuses for how I gained the weight back.

I'm angry that I snap at people who are just trying to be kind.

I'm angry that I default to making the joke...the classic defense.

I'm angry that Etta isn't enough.  Why was Coraline a motivation but Etta isn't?

I'm angry at pictures of myself, both old & new.

I'm angry at how nasty I am to myself.

I'm angry at how I can't seem to ever look in the mirror with accurate eyes.

I'm angry that I need a second chance.

I'm angry that I'm not there yet & at the same time I'm angry that I'm not patient. 

I'm angry that my knees are cotton-headed-ninny-muggins & won't hold up to running right now.  I'm angry that maybe I'm using that as an excuse.

I'm angry that I assume EVERYTHING is about my weight.  Seeing old friends, meeting new people, pitching in to help someone in need...it all comes down to my weight & how it impacts my interactions with people.  I seek out ways to self sabotage to avoid a legitimate failure or rejection. 

I'm angry that I'm so narcissistic.  I'm almost 34 & the mom of three.  When is it time to get over myself already?

I'm angry that my kids don't really remember thinner mom & ask me why I still have a baby belly.

I'm angry that I'm back to looking for outs, living in a world of "no."

I'm angry that I can't stop comparing myself to myself & feeling like a failure.  I "should" be 30 lbs down from where I am if I was keeping the same pace. 

I'm angry that I've been wishing in one hand & defecating in the other...and now I'm sitting in a pile of poo. 

So that's where I'm at.  I don't have any pithy answers or fresh ah-ha moments or deep thoughts or golden ideas or anything useful...just anger.  Mountains of it.  And 95% of it is self loathing, so if I've been sullen or crappy to you, I'm sorry.  It's not you, it's me.  Oooh, I guess that's a little pithy...maybe there's hope yet.