In search of a goal

Clearly I need a more productive way to deal with my emotions. For the past 9 years I've used food as a bandaid for my pain. It never used to be that way, and I'm not really sure how it all started, though I have a guess.

9 years ago, at 22 years old, my life was turned upside down. I was young. Naive, married, a mom to a 13 month old baby, living 12 hours away from my entire family without a single friend in the world besides my son...and, so I thought, my husband. I was happy living a grown up life. I was happy being a mom. I was happy planning healthy meals and going on daily jogs with my baby. I had dinner on the table every night for my husband when he got home. I cleaned the house. Folded the laundry. Paid the bills. I did it all. I was a 21st century June Cleaver...or so I thought....little did I know that my husband wasn't happy. One day as I went about my routine, 3 days after my birthday in fact, my husband came home and told me he was leaving. He didn't want to be married to me anymore. I was heart broken. I had no idea what I did. I thought we were happy. We never fought. We still had a great sex life. He had just showered me with birthday gifts.....I was blindsided...and then soon broken.

My world was turned upside down that day, and in a way, I think I lot a big piece of myself that day. He took it from me. The confidence I had in who I was was ripped out from within me and replaced with "Who cares? You have nobody. You were the 'perfect" wife and he still left. " My emotions spiraled out of control as I packed up what I could fit in a small sedan, scooped up my beautiful baby boy and drove 12 hours to go live with my mother. I was broke....financially and emotionally. I gave up caring. I was embarassed by having to go back home at a time when everyone was just leaving. Soon i began the whirlwind life of single working mother who lost all time for herself. Within a year. ONE year, of my husband leaving I had gained 50 pounds. One pants size at a time. One bag of M&M's and lifetiem move marathons at a time, the weight snuck up. and up. By the 1 year post D-day mark, I weighed more than I did 9 months pregnant....and I have remained there for the past 9 years.

My weight has fluctated slightly, 10 lbs here and there (down, never any higher) but I always gain it back. I gain it back when something happens. I meet a guy who's perfect for me, but NOT for me...I gain weight. I land a great job, I lose weight. I lose said job, I gain weight. I meet another guy, I'm happy, I lose weight...he turns out to be a closet Meth adict..I gain weight. I start growing in my career again. I lose weight. I start to date find a wonderful man, lose even more weight...lose the job. Gain weight...and so it goes and goes.

I recently lost weight....and then I gained it. I had a new baby. Was deleriously happy, had a great guy who I know will stick around...I lost weight. Said guy, who still makes me happy, has shown NO inclination to marry me...it's crept back up...I've tried to lose it. I've done well. I'll go a week hitting the gym hard, eating all the right foods, giving up soda and candy and mocha coffees...and then something happens. Most recently a sick friend. In this past week alone I've probably consumed an elephants worth of calories....and have the bloat, the fatigue and the extra 3 pounds to prove it.

I need to find a way to use my emotions to fuel a better lifestyle. I need to look within myself and retreive the person I used to be. The one who was confident, happy and was "perfect" because it made me happy...because I enjoyed running, and cooking and looking nice, not because anyone else asked me to. I need to learn that it's ok to be me again, and it doesn't mean that my world is going to come crumbling down....and if it does, all the M&M's in the world are not going to fix it.