Beware of the Pity Party

If you're not into other people's pity parties, I suggest you stop reading now. This post is going to be a doozy. I am not sure where to begin. It's Sunday night about 11 p.m. I should be in bed fast asleep because the alarm seems to ring even louder than usual on Mondays at 5:45 a.m. Instead I'm a sobbing mess, thinking about the person I've become and wondering how I got here.

Growing up, I was always a planner, but never a compulsive worrier. Since giving birth to Ethan, I find myself living a life full of worry, anxiety, and fear. If I have a pain in my pelvic area, I just "know" that I have ovarian cancer. If I have a pain in my breast (as I do at the moment, and it's probably just related to my cycle), I have diagnosed myself with breast cancer. If I hear sirens and Joe is running errands, I hold my breath until I hear his voice on the cell phone. I worry from the time I wake up to the time I finally fall asleep at night. Back in October, I saw my primary care doctor and we discussed this. I went on Zoloft for about 3 months and then (stupidly) decided I didn't need it anymore because I was feeling better. What did I THINK was making me feel better in the first place??

These irrational feelings, while seeming incredibly real to me, have been causing some problems with my marriage, coupled with some other issues dating back many years. Joe and I are now seeing a counselor to try to figure out how to solve some of these problems. I love Joe more than anything. He is an amazingly caring person and the support he gives me is so unconditional. However, I can only imagine how difficult it is living with a woman who is constantly bringing him down with her fears and anxiety about everything in life. I truly am sucking the life out of our marriage. All I want is to feel "whole" again...to wake up in the morning and feel like I can breathe, to feel like there isn't an enormous burden sitting on me and pushing me down.

On top of the anxiety and fear are my feelings about my weight. I have ALWAYS had issues about my weight, ever since I was very young. In middle and high school, I was on the swim team and worked out constantly, so I was about 125 at 5'4". Even then, I thought I was chunky compared to many of my friends. In college, I gained more than the Freshman Fifteen, and so I weighed about 150 when I got married in 1997. I fluctuated throughout the first 5-6 years of my marriage between 140 and 170. I would try a new diet and lose weight. Joe was stationed in Korea for a year, leaving me in Maryland alone, and I would lose weight. I'd have an event I needed to look good for, and I'd lose some weight. When I got pregnant with Ethan, I was about 165. I gained 55 pounds with him, mostly (I feel) because I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. The lowest I've been able to get down to since having Ethan (17 MONTHS AGO!) is 168. I am currently at 175 after having 2 weeks of bingeing and eating everything I felt like. I begin a new "plan" tomorrow, one that includes calorie counting and walking the treadmill for 25 minutes during my lunch hour. I am hopeful that I can soon get down to 165 again, with my ultimate goal being 150.

I highly doubt that Joe is attracted to me the same way he was 10 years ago. Does he love me? I'm sure of it. But I want to be the woman he married again. I want to feel like ME again. I want to love myself again, because how can HE love me if I don't love me? I can only hope and pray that he has the patience to stick this out with me while I figure it all out. Some days, I feel like a shadow of myself, like the old Laura is gone and the new me is someone I just don't like. I am praying that getting my eating under control, exercising, and seeing the counselor will pave the way for finding the "real" me.

I have always had bad skin...something I've been forever embarrassed about. I've probably tried every single concealer on the market. I found Proactiv and it has worked pretty well. Thing is, I have gotten lazy about using it and now my face is a MESS. Just another thing making me feel ugly. I know how to fix it, but I also know it won't happen overnight. Why are the most rewarding things also the hardest to stick with?

Money is tight lately. Joe and I both work full time because we simply need the money. We are by no means struggling, but things have gotten tight lately, and we've had to dip into our savings account. We need to sit down and figure out where the extra spending is taking place and how we can cut it. Again, just another thing making me feel so out of control.

As I sit here and I read over this post, I am ashamed. I am ashamed that I spent 20 minutes writing about my "pathetic" life when there are others in the world clinging to any shred of hope that their loved one will pull through whatever hardship they are facing. As I sit here typing, I think about my friend Lisa who lost her 18-month old daughter to Tay Sachs disease. What would she give to have "anxiety" issues or a weight problem? My neighbor passed away today, after losing her husband in January. And yet I complain about money, bad skin, such trivial things.

Before I came downstairs to write this post, I stood beside Ethan's crib for 10 minutes, tears rolling down my face. He is the most perfect thing I've ever done in my entire life. Looking at him takes my breath away. This little person, who is now learning to talk (and hit and bite!) is incredible proof that somewhere along the way, I have done something so very right. And no matter what it takes, I promise him that his mommy is going to get healthy, both physically and mentally. He deserves that and so much more.