Jiminy Cricket—sometimes I swear computers are worse than men! 😐
THIS week’s theme/prompt is:
HEADS – “Bottle”
Make any kind of post using the theme/prompt “Bottle.”
Some ideas might be baby bottles, antique bottle collections, a time when your feelings got “bottled up”.. you could even make a video of yourself singing “100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” (I hope you don’t, but you could. ) You can even say you couldn’t think of anything to say about bottles so you’re writing about something else. See how easy this is! (Smile.)
You know, I would totally buy a weight loss solution if it came in a bottle. Right now I’d buy any tried and true, harmless weight loss solution. Too bad exercising doesn’t come in a bottle. And, yeah, my feelings on this are definitely bottled up inside. I’m frustrated. With being fat, with looking at pictures of myself and my family and wanting to puke because I look like twice the size of my husband (I’m not, really, I’m just about 100 pounds heavier), and I’m always pink, and I feel like a slug, and I feel stupid because I can’t follow a simple routine. I know what I need to get me there, to thin (again, I wasn’t always this size ya know), to healthy, to not worrying that my heart is going bad at 32/33, to not having people look at me differently just because I’m so big (though, I cherish the ones I know that look THROUGH what they see and see the real me, that comment to me “I’m enjoying getting to know you.” That’s from the one pastor at church, that’s the MOPS mentor. And most of the women at MOPS, I don’t feel as if they dismiss me because I’m fat. Not anymore at least. And I’m still the biggest girl….I really cherish people who look at more than my weight, and are always surprised I’m older than I look [how do I get away with that?], and would probably be surprised to find out I weigh what I do…I cherish them). I want to be ME again, and I don’t often feel that way. I feel bad. A part of me feels really bad….
I love who I am. The ME that is ME, she’s just so damn awesome, she’s that gifts I know were given to me by God, she’s the reason I’m here, why I have wonderful people in my life, why I’m allowed to even live. But the physical part—I can’t stand that. Unfortunately, I can’t do away with one without getting rid of the other (that’s not to say I’d even contemplate that…damn, the holes one can dig!).
Of course, do you know how against medications and medical procedures I am? I’ve never really related my story (some I covered in the Birth Stories last year, but I won’t go over it), but Depo Provera’s evil turned me off to any medicines for much of anything other than antibiotics (which have proven themselves to me) or mild pain relievers.
So what am I left with? Doing it the “right” way…but I fell off that over a year ago.
Help. The good thing is, fat people float…
Like an empty bottle on the sea (borrowed from officer92)…