What do you do when you feel like your life sucks, you’re going nowhere, you’re hideously fat and ugly with no self esteem or self worth, and no-one desires you?
You start a blog and bitch about it.
So, here’s a bit about me….
I’m a crass, blunt, short, fat, ugly, bitchy, opinionated, independent, realistic, lonely, single, often horny, nearly 40 year old Aussie woman.
I tell it like I see it, I’m an open book, and I am pretty much guaranteed to offend you at some point.
I’m separated from my husband, yet we remain the best of friends.
I have 6 kids. 5 to my husband, one to an old flame following a bit of a fling.
I suffer from the odd bout of depression, I’ve managed to pull myself out of the darkness every time so far. I guess that makes me strong. I try to hide my depression from my family. I don’t think I’ve ever let my mum or siblings know that I suffer from it. My ex hubby knew I had low times, but I never let him in to just how dark my thoughts were getting. I couldn’t tell him – not ever- he himself suffers from mental illness and I couldn’t burden him with my struggle as well. My struggle was insignificant to the family struggles as a whole. My struggle was suffered in silence, because I felt that I didn’t matter. Very foolish, but it was (still is) the only way I knew how to deal with it.
8 weeks ago, I had a complete abdominal hysterectomy, which had thrown my life into more turmoil than it was already, healing from that has been truly fucked! I’ve had a post op internal infection, the pain from that was worse than the aftermath of the surgery.
I’ve been left exhausted, oh my god the exhaustion!! That is completely fucked, I’m completely buggered after doing the groceries, or the laundry, or cooking dinner. This level of fatigue is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced.
There are reasons behind the surgery, that I’ve not told people about. Whether I open up about that or not… Time will tell.
I guess I’m starting this blog to get shit out of my head before I slip into darkness again. Trying to figure out which way my life should head, and what the fuck I want from my miserable life.
I try so hard to be thankful for what I have, and remind myself that I am so much better off and blessed than so many others in the world. Blah blah fucking blah…
I also know that my life could be shitloads better than it is. And sometimes I regret choices I made, and I just want to disappear without a trace. For it to be better, its up to me to change it – this is another of my struggles.
For me to better my life, I need to find me – discover who I am, and what I want from life.
I’d love to be happy again. Not sure that I’ll ever truly get there, but I’m sure as shit going to try. Hopefully this blog will help.
My biggest issue in life is my morbid obesity. No hiding it, I’m fucking FAT!
I’m a huge fucking whale, and I’m reminded of it constantly. Daily in fact. I can’t look at my reflection in a mirror, I get looks of disgust if I eat in public places. People look me up and down with repulsion written all over their faces. I can’t buy clothes off the rack, I’m too short for clothes that fit my humongous girth.. Taking my kids to the beach, I’ve heard people say to their friends to ‘look at the whale that’s beached itself’… It’s beyond hurtful, and I hate going out in public because of my size.
I don’t turn heads like I used to, I constantly feel revolting and undesirable. I crave being with someone, I crave intimacy, I want to feel wanted and desired, I want someone to be proud to have me by my side and show it openly, wherever we may be. I want to feel the smile on their face as the kiss me… I love that.
I crave for the day that someone wants to fuck me. Oh god, I want to be fucked so hard that I can’t walk for the next few hours, I want to feel someone inside me, feel the pounding, as they kiss me passionately. I want someone to eat me out until I cum over their face, I want someone to bring me to multiple orgasm!!! Not because they pity me, but because THEY actually want to…
Hey, a horny old bitch can dream, right?
Now, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m responsible for the lard I carry around, and I know that I am the only one that can lose it. I do try. I’ve had huge success with weight loss in the past. I’ve also had huge success with weight gain. I yo-yo constantly with my weightloss/gain… Ahh fuck it, who am I kidding, my weight loss and gain is more like being on a bungee cord rather than a pissy little yo-yo.
And at the moment, I’m frustrated that I can’t exercise the way I was as I’m still healing from my surgery. My mind is eager to get out there, my body isn’t.
Weight loss has been a huge struggle for me. I’m far too self conscious to go to a gym, I have fat rolls that defy the word roll – its more like a fat hang than a fat roll. The weight loss is totally up to me, up to my mental strength, and my motivation.
I’m 5′ 1″ short (156cm), At my worst struggle with weight, I was 167kg…. Let that sink in for a second – 167 kilograms!!!!! I had no energy, I couldn’t walk to my letterbox and back without gasping for air. I couldn’t play with my kids. I was eating and lazing myself to the grave. Literally.
Over the last 8ish years I’ve tried so fucking hard to lose weight. I got down to 108kg. Which was bloody awesome!!!! But it left the fat hang. Another reason for my disgust in my body.
I’ve ballooned up and down for years, back up to 142kg, down to 110kg, back up to 137kg, down to 118kg, back up to 127kg, and that’s where I started really trying again…. I got back down to 108kg, which was my best weight in over 11yrs. Then I had my surgery, and life came crashing to a halt. I couldn’t exercise, just walking from my bed to the loo, I felt that my stitches were going to rip open from the sheer weight of my fat hang pulling on them, literally stretching the skin apart, the burning sensation was almost unbearable. I had to hold up my gut to walk and stop the tension on the stitches.
The stitches stayed in for 2 weeks. The day they came out was a huge relief. But I still couldn’t exercise.
I’m now 8 weeks post op. 2 weeks ago, I had a large internal infection, and I’m still battling that. I’m beyond exhausted – I didn’t comprehend that this level of exhaustion even existed! And its left me unable to exercise the way I want to. I’ve been pushing myself but getting nowhere. I’ve put on 6kg since the surgery, and its mentally and physically draining. It’s depressing. I desperately want to get back under 100kg. I haven’t been there since 2002.
Today I’ve woken up and said fuck it, I’m forcing myself to walk around the block every day, and I’ll build on it from there. And you know what I’m doing? Sitting on my fat, lazy, lard arse, starting a blog about it. I’ve hit the wall mentally. I need to pull my head in and get that mental push happening again.
Will I manage it? Can you help push me?
Stay tuned. .