Eyes wide open

Sometimes it is just so clear......How I wound up here.....How I let myself go......How desperately I needed someone who is not there and was never there.  That person, my dad.

My dad left when I was 6 years old.  I guess I never really recovered from that abandonment.   I never stopped seeking him and his approval in everything I did.  Funny thing, nothing I did was ever good enough.  It was always, thats good but.......why isn't it this?  Why didn't you do this?  Then there was the step-monster.  The woman who he left us for.  The woman who always referred to me as my father's daughter instead of her step-daughter.  The woman who made it clear that she did not want me around.  The woman who played mind games at every turn.  The woman who wished I (and my brother and sister) never existed.  I mean, I don't know what I ever did to her.  She had my dad.  Why was she so intent on taking him?  Why was so she intent on driving a wedge between my father and me?  More to the point, why was my dad so willing to push me to the side like a piece of garbage for this woman?  My father died when I was 32.  No one felt it necessary to tell his children how sick he really was.  All we kept hearing was that he was doing great.  I guess I could be compassionate and say they were in denial, but................I don't know.  It was then that we informed them that we were coming up to visit.  My last conversation with my father lasted less that 2 minutes because he was gasping for air.  He said he was looking forward to our visit (me, my brother and my sister).  2 days later, both of his lungs collapsed and he took a turn for the worst.  We went up to see him although he did not know we were there.  There it was.....the white elephant everyone was avoiding all of those years.  There we were, his children.  There were people there who didn't know we were his children.  Nice right?  He died 5 days later.  I remember saying to my mom, "Well, its official.......He is never going to call and want to be my father."  I don't think my mom realized until that moment that I never gave up hope that one day we would have a relationship, that he would actually want a relationship with me.

All of my relationships have mimicked my relationship with my father in one form or another.  Me constantly seeking love and approval to ultimately not get it.  Me working like a dog to get approval and not getting it.  Me getting into relationships with men who are not emotionally available.

My ex-husband and I had a ton of dreams.  All squashed when fertility problems arose and tore us apart.  The worst part, my ex-husbands ease as walking away and discarding me as if I were nothing.  Sound familiar?

The relationship after that.  Promises of marriage, a future and children; even an engagement ring; again, the ease of breaking those promises, like I didn't matter.  He even got annoyed with me that I was upset that we were not going to get married after we made all kinds of plans.  Sound familiar?  It does to me.  The same old song.

Countless friendships that have gone awry because I don't know why.

I think I eat and wear this fat suit to protect myself.  I am lonely.  I go into a cocoon to protect myself from people dumping on me and telling me I'm not good enough; constantly reminding that I'm not part of the group.

I have a handful of friends that I spend time with from time to time and I am grateful for them.  I am also grateful for the old friends that I have gotten in touch with via Facebook who offer support to me now.  I am thankful for everything that God has given me, although I must admit, it is hard sometimes not to be jealous of what other people have.  It is hard to be happy for them when they have everything I ever wanted.  It is hard to accept that God has me on a different path and that I have to stop resisting.  I'm sure the pain would stop if I would just surrender to God and have faith in his plan for me.  The problem is, I am human and I have a lifetime of experience telling me to hold on tight to what I have because it will be gone before I know it.  I'm going to be honest, I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone and I am petrified that is going to happen.

So, I decide to change my life.  I decide this time I'm going to succeed with my weight loss for me, not for my dad, not for Glen and not for Joe.  I have lost 18 pounds so far.  My only success these past couple of days is that I have not ordered a pizza to drown my sorrows in.  Thats progress.  Now that I think about it, that is a pretty big success and something that I should be proud of myself for; 2 months ago, I would have ordered that pizza.