I’d say it’s high time I re-evaluate my commitment to healthy living. Why? Well, this is why. Sandi’s post, and my ensuing reaction to it, got me thinking. She went to that expo; she was bombarded with mostly unexpected temptations, and she chose to stay on plan. Given my current mindset, I am certain that I would not have done the same, not right now. The level of commitment and dedication she showed when she chose not to indulge in even the smallest of FREE treats mirrors what I held fast to throughout my own weight loss. I didn’t cheat, almost never. I’m talking not even swiping one piece of candy from Em’s Halloween haul each year, no cake on my own birthdays, no BLT’s (bite/lick/tastes) while cooking dinner, etc. My resolve was pristine, my will formidable. Yes, I had planned free meals, but they were always meticulously thought out and accounted for with extra clean eats before and after, and added exercise to boot. Never were they spur of the moment, never were they out of control. So, what happened? Complacency. Not that it’s any excuse, but life happened and I let myself become complacent. And I am truly humbled by how quickly things got out of control the moment I let my guard down ever so slightly. I realize that this year has probably been one of the most difficult of my life. Not only that, but difficult in more ways than I ever could have imagined. How I’ve dealt with and my reactions to the challenges I’ve faced this year have surprised me to say the least. And if nothing else, it’s been a fascinating process of learning more about myself than I’ve ever known before. But the fact is, life happens. SHIT happens that can’t be planned for, can’t be controlled, and can’t be ignored. Does that give me a free pass to behave as if I can eat like my former fat girl self without consequence? Ummmm, NO! So what on earth made me think I could? Not a damn thing, but that’s exactly what I did.

In reading Sandi’s inspirational words, I suddenly realized that when I once would have met a situation such as she found herself in with stoic resolve to honor my commitment, I now would just make another excuse to throw up my hands and say what the hell, I’ll try again tomorrow. That’s not cool, not cool at all. That’s not the kind of person I want to be. And that’s certainly not the kind of person I can afford to be considering my serious affliction with food addiction. I can’t afford the luxury of those kinds of slips. Just like an alcoholic can’t afford to take even one sip, I can’t afford to allow “what the hell” kind of thinking. Cuz it’s not just extra calories to me, or more time needed working out. That kind of thinking means a spiraling trip right back into the deeply emotional midst of the vicious cycle obesity affords. That kind of thinking is precisely what can undo years of hard work, ultimately turning me into just another statistic. One of the 90%+/- of people who regain all or more of the weight they’ve lost. I can’t afford to go down that path again, and by god, I won’t.

Yes, I have regained some weight. Not a lot, but enough to make me uncomfortable. Although the snugness of my jeans isn’t necessarily what has me concerned. It’s really the newly re-acquired fat girl mindset that has me running for the hills. The propensity for that “what the hell” thinking that makes my heart pound in the stillness of night. Sure, there was a time that I talked extensively of regaining a little weight to add some padding beneath my too thin skin, but I have discovered that the weight gain has done nothing for the bony appearance in the places that I thought needed the most help. My body is structured in such a way that I now realize only plastic surgery would be able to help. So, the simple truth is that there is nothing I can realistically do about what I am left with other than try to cover it best I can and learn to accept that I may never be truly comfortable in my own skin. But what I can do, and what I can control, is my ability to never again re-fill that deflated skin. To never again become the person that I was so desperately and stringently trying not to be. I can control how much power I allow food to hold over me, regardless of how little control I feel I have at times. What it comes right down to is that the choice is still mine, one way or another, the choice is, always has been, and always will be mine, all mine.

We took Em to the state fair this weekend. My eats could have been better, though I don’t know how much considering the dismal array of crappy food I had to choose from. But I knew what to expect and decided before hand not to worry too much about it. Of course I didn’t neeeeed that fudge with walnuts, but hey, shit happens. I did start to feel a little bit bingy due to the “it’s too late now” philosophy that I’m sure we’re all quite familiar with. Especially since I went for a comfort food choice for dinner (bread bowl with creamy Mexican chicken soup) because of my cold, exhausted, headachy state of mind after a veeeeeery long day. So when I got home, the No Pudge brownies Em and I made on Saturday were really calling to me, and I did go ahead and have two very small ones (I cut them into 20 instead of 12 pieces) but then something interesting happened; I just stopped. I’m not sure why exactly, since I was definitely feeling that familiar feeling, but I just stopped. I guess I figured I had done enough damage and didn’t need to make matters any worse. Plus, I think I’m just over that crap now, but not in the sense that I don’t have a problem with it anymore, cuz I know I always will. More like, I’m tired of the whole binge scene and I’m soooooo over it, KWIM? So that was that, I ate some crappy food but it could have been worse, and now I’m done and tomorrow is a brand new day. That’s life. Of course, I’ll just leave out the part about tying one on at the Chinese buffet the next night since General Tsao’s calories obviously don’t count. They don’t count… right? ;D Hey, it’s Chinese, whaddaya expect?!

The fair was good, chilly and windy, but good. As long as it’s not hot I’m happy. Bub was a little “Bub-like” at first, but he loosened up and didn’t end up ruining the day as he so easily could have and has done countless times before. Em bravely rode a lot of the big rides, including one of those where they lift you up a tower and then just drop you without warning, bleh. And we did all the spin and pukes (my favs) until our age (Bub’s and mine) caught up with us and we were spun and puked out. Em, of course, could have gone on indefinitely, but what else is new? All in all, it was a nice time, so I’m happy with that.

This week brought parent teacher conferences and Em's first report card for fourth grade. All A’s, even math, which she’s been struggling with at bit this year. Both her regular teacher and her gifted and talented teacher had nothing but praise for her academically. Although her regular teacher, Mrs. Young, did mention some excessive talking and cattiness with the other girls, but that’s pretty typical of Em. Overall, we’re extremely pleased and very proud as always, and we plan to reward her in some way for all her hard work and effort, as she obviously deserves it. I also took an instant liking to her gifted and talented teacher, Mr. Corbitt (this was the first time I had actually met him). Very laid back, young(er), fun, and not too hard on the eyes either, I might add. :) Em likes him a lot too, much better than the GT teacher she had last year who was an older lady that Em described as grouchy more often than not. She had been kind of nervous about having a male teacher for the first time this year, but it looks as though her fears were for naught as Mr. Corbitt has turned out to be a pretty cool dude. Much the same way Mr. Deja proved his worth to me in third grade when I was harboring the same unfounded fears. And who, to this day, remains one of my all time favorite teachers. Of course, he did spoil me for my next male teacher, Mr. Thompson. Now that guy was truly an ass! Oh well, can’t win ‘em all I guess.

Teehee, Bub is now referring to the possibility of Em living with him part time as “Em maybe spending a week with me… or something”. What? Being a full time parent is hard? Gee, maybe he would have known that if he’d ever tried being one before. No resentment, just realism. Idiot.

Okay, nuff about that. So, ya’ll know how I loves me some free stuff, right? I mean it’s ridiculous what I’m willing to go through for the sake of free stuff sometimes, but hey, that’s me, everybody has their “thing” and this is mine. But sometimes those ridiculous things actually pay off, as in my acquirement of a brand new free Senseo coffee maker. I found the listing of a “free stuff” website, yes an actual site just for free stuff, and believe me, there are tons of them! But usually the free stuff is just product samples and cheesy, inconsequential crap. This time, however, I had the opportunity to earn myself an honest to goodness coffee maker simply by truthfully filling out a survey portraying my very real addiction to a good cuppa joe. And after careful consideration, determining that my affliction with coffee was great enough that I might actually brag (as I’m doing now) to others about their product, they shipped me a brand spanking new Senseo coffee maker of my very own. Woohoo, now that’s what I’m talkin’ bout!! It’s kinda cool with these special little flavored “pods” that, along with its unique design, make for a yummy, frothy brew. It’s a nice treat, something different, and best of all, ITS FREE!! What more could a bonafide cheapskate coffee addict ask for? ;D

Now for a quick update on the food front. I think I'm really getting a handle on this thing. It certainly hasn't been perfect, not by any means, but the honestly out of control binging seems to be behind me for now. I have my moments, of course, don't get me wrong, but it got reeeeeealy bad there for a while, and now I think I've got it mostly under control. I just had to stop letting it be okay to get away with this shit because that's really all I was doing; letting it be okay. And it's not okay, period. Plus, my clothes were starting to get a little too uncomfortable and I'll be damned if I'm gonna actually drop some dough on the next size (or two) up. So, if nothing else, my frugalness has put the kibosh on this whole crappy eating thing. Anyway, the pants-o-meter has begun to indicate that my abstinance is paying off, and I am now looking forward to once again fitting into my "skinny" jeans... soon, I hope. :)

Well, it’s official, I’m on drugs. Okay, okay, one drug, Paxil to be exact. I went to the doctor, and no, it was most certainly not the same one who told me there must be something wrong with me for losing so much weight on my own, and who tried to run a whole bunch of unnecessary tests on me. Nope, I picked me out a nice, new lady doc who recognized my distress for what it was and said here’s a magic little pill to make it all better, woohoo! I liked her a lot and I think I’ll stick with her as my regular doc, cuz you know I’m gonna have to go back after the chastising I got for dodging all those paps over the last nine years. Sheesh, you’d think I had committed a mortal sin or something! Yeah, yeah, yeah, here’s the plan; if I can get some sort of deal worked out where it’s not costing me an arm and a leg, then I’ll go back and have my nether regions checked and cleared so everyone can rest assured that my girly business is all in proper working order… soon… no really, I swear! I also liked her cuz she understood my need to keep things as low cost as possible so she prescribed a higher than necessary dosage of pills (40 mg.) and instructed me to break them in half so they’ll last twice as long. Now that’s my kind of doc! Anyway, she said I probably wouldn’t notice any difference for a few weeks, and then all of a sudden things will just seem easier to deal with, and I wouldn’t feel like a blubbering idiot so much of the time, which is precisely what I’m looking for. So for the time being, she said I just gotta hang on, and hopefully things will start to look up soon.

Em spent the night with Bub again Friday night, and I am appalled by how lost I feel without her here. My life is so completely wrapped up in hers that when she’s not here I don’t even know what to do or how to feel. I know I need a life of my own, but I spent so long just trying to protect her, then working to save her, and now trying to give her as normal and happy childhood as possible, that I never really learned how to do those things for myself. And I don’t really know what to do about it, or what to even make of this realization, but since it was rattling around up there, I figured I might as well share it.

Bub called me this morning, (Saturday) apparently they had been “having issues” since the night before but now it finally got too much for him and he didn’t know what to do with her anymore. He was clearly frustrated and annoyed, and she was having none of it, refusing to talk about anything. He wanted me to come mediate; he wanted to hash it all out right then and there, as is his way. They obviously needed a break from each other, but that goes against his very being. Nope, you have to face your problems head on and work through them until they’re resolved no matter how long it takes, or how unwilling the involved parties are to cooperate. It’s a control thing, and although he realizes that others work differently than he does, he is not satisfied unless things go his way, which is the right way of course. Ug. He wanted me to come back him up, to make her understand that resorting to disrespecting him is not an option, and to get her to talk it out with him and resolve their issues right then and there. Dude, she’s NINE! It’s a simple fact, when she gets like this, there is no talking to her rationally, there is no getting her to take responsibility for her actions, there is only defensive stubbornness until she has a chance to back away from the craziness and collect herself. When given that chance she can almost always identify how she contributed to the chaos through her actions and words. And not only will she see it, but she will also understand how inappropriate it was and typically end up apologizing for her behavior all on her own. This is just how she works. But since it’s always all about him and making sure his wants and needs are met first and foremost, he apparently can’t just let go and try what actually works with her, oh nooooooo, she should be able to conform to his way, since it iiiiiiis best and all. Anyway, I finally talked him into letting her take a break for a couple of hours, with the promise that we would come back so they could “talk” about it more. So I took her out to lunch since she was starving cuz according to him, everything, including hunger must wait when there are issues to be worked out. Then we came back home, chilled out, put up some Halloween decorations and made plans to have Sheree come stay the night (yes, they’re friends again… this week anyway) and then, low and behold, she was ready to talk about it. Gee, go figure. The discussion took 15 minutes, tops. She knew she was being a disrespectful little heifer and that she had crossed the line (even though Bub was being his typical self, which is more than any human being should be expected to put up with, and probably deserved much of what he was getting from her) But the point is, she knew it wasn’t okay, and she owned up to and apologized for her behavior. Now, was that really sooooooo hard? And the whole time, I couldn’t help but smugly think to myself, all this after only one night together? Heh, let’s just see how a whole week goes; now that should be interesting! Let’s just say I felt a little more secure in my role as primary caregiver after that one.

Anyway, she's home tonight, Sheree is over, they're enjoying being kids, as they should be, and all is once again right with the world, sigh...

So I guess I shoulda mentioned that Em stopped going to counseling several weeks ago, huh? Mellany, her counselor, accepted another job offer (with great remorse, but she felt it was something she had to do) and Counseling Associates hired a new person to replace her. But the new person wasn’t in place until after Mellany left and Em never got a chance to meet her first, so she wasn’t real keen on the idea of breaking in the new girl. Also, as Mellany was acutely aware, Em made it a point to almost never discuss the real issues, ie: problems with Bub. No, she’s very pleased with her current state of denial, and mostly chose to only accept guidance on school/friend/social issues. I even asked Mellany once what was the point of continuing if Em refuses to open up about the deeper issues, and she said that it probably wouldn’t be very productive, but at least Em was willing to talk about the surface issues, and she just hoped that was helping Em in her own way. Anyway, Bub, of course, couldn’t stand Em going to counseling every week since he had no control over it, which basically made her going more trouble than it was worth since she wasn’t using it for it’s intended purpose anyway. So when the new girl finally called to set up an appointment, Em said she really didn’t want to go back, and of course, Bub was all for it. I decided I wouldn’t force the issue, so that’s where we are today. Man, was I ever wishing Mellany was still there when Em decided that she wanted to live with Bub part time, it would have totally floored her, I’m sure, cuz the last thing she knew is that Em wanted barely anything to do with the man. Ahh, the good ol’ days, my how times change.

As for the legalities of custody and all that crap, in the interest of appeasing the Bubba monster I’ve agreed to go the 18 months separation/no fault divorce route. Which means that we haven't made anything official and won't go through the court system at all until the 18 months separation is up. This way he doesn’t have to accept any responsibility for being the asshole that he is, and he doesn’t get made out to be the bad guy. Unfortunately, since he can obviously do no wrong, these are the only divorce terms he would be willing to accept without putting up a fight and making my life even more miserable. The truth of the matter is, there is no way in hell he’d ever agree that his behavior or actions were instrumental in the breakup of his family, and if I were to ever try to convince him, or anyone else of that, then he would view it as a personal attack, thus eliciting his spiteful, ruthless wrath. I will not get into a petty pissing match with him, so in an attempt to keep things amicable, I am willing to go along with a lot of ridiculous bullshit, like his belief that he shouldn’t have to pay child support. After all, if Em needs anything all I need to do is ask, right? Whatever dude, I don’t want or need your money (if you had some) anyway. Like my mom said, you can’t squeeze blood from a turnip, and I’m perfectly happy making my own way without any help from him, thank you very much. Anyway, all of this may not be the smartest idea, but it works for us and keeps life worth getting out of bed for in the morning, so that’s what I plan to keep doing. BTW, it’s been almost six months now, only one more year to go, woohoo!!

My doctor’s appointment is tomorrow (Friday), so I’ll update on that when I have some news. I’ve also been speaking with a local health insurance agent about finding an affordable plan. It’s all pretty sucky and not really worth the money, but if I’m gonna have to be going to a doctor regularly and taking prescription medicine, then I figure I’d better do something to help manage the cost. I just keep telling myself that my car will be paid off soon, my car will be paid off soon. I will make this work… one way or another. No need to worry about what might happen if my car up and dies on me, cuz the universe is simply not that cruel… right? Just smile and nod, k? It helps, I swear! ;D

I’m still here, just isolating a lot lately. I was sick with a stomach virus all night Sunday and into Monday, but other than that, everything just seems to be too much right now and I’m not coping well. I made a doctors appointment… I’ve decided that I need help with my anxiety regardless of my lack of health insurance. So I’ll bite the bullet and fork out some precious, hard earned dough. I figure, if that’s what it’ll take to make me feel a bit more normal in my abnormal world, then so be it. I really want to be the kind of person who can just face life head on, and it would seem that I’ve already proven myself capable of that, but… well, as I said, I’m not coping well right now… for whatever reason, and I simply can’t go on this way. I wish I didn’t have to feel so much, I wish everything were just easier somehow, I wish Bub would fall off the face of the earth, I wish I wish I wish. I thought I was making life better by leaving, and I did, I know I did. So why don’t I feel like it so much of the time? I’m so tired of feeling weepy and overwhelmed by the stupidest shit. I’m just plain tired.

Bub brought living with him back up to Em over the weekend. I knew he wasn’t about to let that one go. So plans are commencing and I expect it to happen soon. Lord help her for loving that man in spite of himself. What on earth was I thinking choosing him for a mate and the father of my child? I could just kick myself sometimes, y’know? But she’s stuck with him and I’m stuck with that. What’s done is done and that’s life, tough titty.

On a happier note, Em finally conquered one of her greatest fears Sunday evening (before my stomach woes hit). She went down the fireman’s pole at the park. It has been her nemesis for years now, taunting her as the little kids flew right down with nary a thought in the world. She hated that damn poll, loathed it and stood in awe of it too. Until finally, she mustered all the courage she could, closed her eyes… and stepped off the edge. I knew she could do it, I told her so every single time she tried and ended up in tears of shame. One of these days you’re gonna go down, and then you won’t be able to stop. And that’s precisely what she did. I think my heart almost burst with pride. That’s my girl.

Well, it seems I spoke too soon. Something has now happened. No, it wasn’t Bub being Bub; this goes way beyond just that. As I’ve mentioned, Em has been getting more comfortable spending time with him, and even went so far as to spend the night with him Saturday for the first time in I don’t know how long. She had fun and enjoys the copious amounts of undivided attention he bestows upon her given the fact that he sets everything else aside when spending any time with her. He plays with her, he buys her stuff, they act silly together, and he goes along with hours on end of all her goofy games and make believe because he simply devotes the time they have together solely to her. To a nine year old, this means that daddy’s house is all just playtime, no chores or responsibilities, and best of all, no real life to contend with. So here’s her novel idea, why not just live with daddy part time? Then she can have fun so much more of the time! Woohoo! Really, can you blame her? She is, of course, forgetting the absolute hell and agony of living in the same house as that man. But remembering would only throw a wrench in her master plan of fun, so why would she want to do that? Such denial, such avoidance, gee, wonder where she gets that from?? ;D Anyway, she comes up with this grand idea of living one week with him and one week with me. I, of course would still pick her up from school and keep her until he gets off work on his weeks, as I am the only one who can drive, and basically do all the chauffeuring, as usual. And not only does she come up with this idea in a manner of minutes, but she wants an immediate answer and starts checking the calendar to see which week we could start! I must admit, my world started to crumble a bit there at first. My shock and disbelief were overwhelming and I had to just shut down in order to make it through the night and most of the next day. Don’t worry, I’m better now that I’ve had some time to process, but there for a while, well… it was tough to say the least. I even lost my appetite at first… only to find it again with a vengeance Monday evening. Needless to say, my streak has now been broken. Lucky for me, starting over is always an option.

So, here’s the real kicker. This master plan of hers? She formulated it while actually on the phone with him, so he knows all about it, and is of course all gung ho and relishing in the fact that she wants to live with him, talking about how we need to sit down and work out the details to set the plan in motion. Yippee. Luckily, after talking with him about it a little later, I found out that he has a much different idea of how this should play out than she does. Apparently, being a full time parent doesn’t really fit well into his life, as if it ever did. So having her come to stay with him for an extended period would have to be very planned out ahead of time in order for it to work for him. Okay, whatever dude. Anyway, his idea was more like several days to a week, but only once a month or so. And then, if he had something he needed to do during his time, he was sure I could watch her for him since I never do anything in the evenings anyway. Asshole. Yeah, I never did anything because I didn’t want to have to do it with HIM! Well, okay, I actually don’t ever do anything anyway, but dammit, that doesn’t mean that I couldn’t! Asshole.

Anyway, he still agrees that her primary residence should remain with me, and that we should just do this on a limited basis to try it out for now, and if we want to make it more frequent in time then we can. Uh yuh, like that’ll happen. I have no doubt that after the first or second week of living back under his rule, Em will be re-thinking this whole grand idea of hers, wondering just what in the hell she’s gotten herself into. But y’know what? That’s just a lesson she’s gonna have to learn on her own. It’s not my place to remind her of what living with him was like, even though I think she secretly wishes I would. That way she wouldn’t be responsible for this decision, or for backing out of it for that matter. Nope, if she wants to play this game, then she’s gonna have to be prepared for the outcome. Maybe, just maybe, she’ll figure out that boring ‘ol stable and reliable mom ain’t so bad after all. She also hasn’t mentioned it again since that night, so I kind of have the suspicion that she has since given it more thought and realized that maybe it wasn’t the best idea after all. I don’t know this for sure, but it is sooooo her style to just pretend that nothing happened when she figures out that she made a mistake. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she just said, “what are you talking about, I never said I wanted to live with daddy” if I were to bring it back up. But that’s where she messed up. See, the fact that she planned all of this out with Bub already means that she won’t get to just pretend it never happened. Oh nooooo, he’s not about to let this one go. Nope, she’s gonna have to stay with him at least once because the bug has already been planted and now it’s too late to change her mind. Lessons learned the hard way are always the best ones learned, aren't they? And he’s already started talking to me about how different things would be if she were to live with him part time. How he simply doesn’t have the time or the budget to keep up his weekend antics all week long. And how she would have chores and rules and responsibilities just like always. Poor thing, she really has no idea what’s in store for her, does she?

So, what now? Well, I guess I’ll be getting myself a one-week vacation sometime soon, with the possibility of more to come. At least, that’s how I’m choosing to look at it since the idea of my baby not living with me full time anymore is still too much to bear. I guess I am confident enough in my consistency, along with her knowledge of my unconditional love for her to know that this couldn’t possibly last, and that ultimately, she’ll realize that I am, by far, the lesser of two evils. Sooner or later she’ll figure out that life can be about fun and rules and responsibilities, and that she simply can’t always have whatever she wants. Y’know, this being a kid business is some pretty hard work! But wait until she has to be a full-time grown up, heh, she’ll only wish she had it so easy!

I don't much feeling like saying or writing anything. Nothing has happened and nothing is wrong, I just don't particularly feel like it is all. We took a small hiking trip to Petit Jean Mountain on Saturday. So here's some obligatory scenic pics to hold you over until I'm in a more chatty mood, enjoy! ;D