I typed the following at work this evening and emailed it to myself to cut and paste into this blog.
I'm a really nice person. I'm a pretty good wife and a great Mom. I'm smart. I have a cool job. I'm pretty too. We do well financially and we have everything we need and almost everything we want. So...you might be wondering about something. If my life is so great and I'm so happy then what's with the fatness?? I'll let you in on a little secret. Well, maybe not such a little secret. It's actually kind of a doozy. Mostly I really am happy. Mostly. But there's a part of me that is so filled with hate and spite and rage and a self-loathing that I'm hard-pressed to even describe. And some days, without warning, that bitter bile takes over. And I HATE everything. That's actually not accurate. I don't hate my kids...I just hate being a Mom, because I SUCK at it. And I don't hate my husband...I hate being a wife, because I SUCK at it. I believe I'm stupid and lazy and fat and ugly. And I hate my job because I've been here for four years and I still SUCK at it. I don't hate everything else - I hate me. And every time I try to lose weight again and I fail, I hate me even more for being such a failure.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where I am right this minute.
My Thought Chain
7 years ago