Now What?

Hello, my lovely Blaugdience.

So, here it is. Mike left for his new job in Louisville yesterday. My main source of social company, social finance, and sponsor of creative endeavors is gone. I'm not quite sure how I'm feeling about it.

On the one hand, I think - I'm free! This must be how it feels for a mom when the kids go off to college; a bittersweet mix of thank god I have my life to myself again and what the hell will I do now? It's relief and fear wrapped into one.

Because I am in charge of my time again. Not that I wasn't before - it was just really easy to go to his house after work, lay on the couch, order food and watch movies to erase the day.

Now, it's just me myself and I. And I'm not sure who's in charge. Father Son and Holy Spirit. I just don't know what the eff to do with myself.

How does this relate to the eating? Well, now I have time. I have time to go work out, I have time to do food prep.

blah blah blah puke.

It's all whining bullshit. The fact of the matter is that I went to bed last night thinking of all these great things I could do today before work. I wake up at 5 am, get up, do my Artist's Way morning pages, meditate for ten minutes, and then go back to bed by 6 am. Woke up at 9, do this blog, then it's get ready for work. I'm not even ready for work. I can't stand this.

My belly is big and round like I'm 9 months pregnant. Sometimes I wonder - do I want my belly to look this way? I like being able to rub my hands on it, like rubbing a lamp hoping a genie will pop out. I like the feeling of heaviness, like it's a big fat protection, or insulation, or buffer, from the world. I like feeling it sit on my lap when I sit down. It's like having a built-in kid all the time, only it doesn't cry, and there are no labor pains. Maybe in a past life I got out of a lot of work by being pregnant all the time, and so I'm recreating that feeling of pregnancy now. It does feel like I'm pregnant. These days I could definitely pass for pregnant.

My belly protruded before when I was overweight, but never the top belly. The belly below my belly button was always protruding,but my upper belly was always fairly under control, very little extra weight went up there. Well, it's up there now. Now when I sit, I have a definite ball of flesh that sits just below my breasts and the only way to describe it is like that of a pregnant woman's body. That's how it looks.

And I've come to love that belly. I think that's the next thing I need to look into - when I have lost weight in the past, I felt sadness when my belly went away. Like I was losing a friend, an ally, or protective services. Could someone really have such a relationship with her gut? Could someone really be in love with her own fat? Like a love-hate relationship? Could I have a Sonny and Cher thing going on with my own fat stores?

All I know is that being overweight is all I've ever known, and when I go into the unknown territory of being thin, it's very unsettling to me. How do I get past this? Just do it, right? Well, I have, many times over, and each time I go running back to being heavy. And when I gained the weight back the last time, and didn't know where to go from there and decided to try getting heavier, I didn't think I'd come to love it. It's like I'm in relationship with it; like I can't date anyone else, because I'm already committed to my fat. I, Ann, take you, Fat, to be my lawfully wedded body. We are already one. I think about taking off the weight and I feel like I'm killing it. I really do. That's part of why I felt I needed to get to 250 - if I cut myself down to 125, then I am allowing that other 125 pounds that I've lost to possibly stand on its own. I take half of myself to keep, and the other half to bury. When I had only 60 pounds to lose, it seemed like I was cutting off the deformed surrogate twin and leaving it to die, gasping and struggling for air. If I give the weight it's own fully formed body, then maybe I can kill it and get it off of me. If I cut it off from me, if I stop feeding it, maybe it will be strong enough to survive on it's own. In the ether. In the spiritual realm. In the air.

I don't know.

Maybe I shouldn't be posting these blog entries. This latest development is too strange ... even for my standards. Well, that's where things are at today, April 25, 2010, in my life. Maybe my psychologist and I can master this strange new development. Thanks for listening; until next time. If there is a next time. I have to admit, even I was surprised by that find. Thanks again.