I am hungry. Not physically hungry, but mentally hungry. I had bariatric surgery about nine months ago. I have been pretty large and in charge for most of my life. As I typed that I was thinking... I wish I was the weight I considered fat from fifteen years ago! Looking at pictures of me in my mid-late twenties had me longing to be her again. Was I a mess back then? YES. A different kind of mess. Heart broken but not ready to give up. I was somewhat confident, even though if you caught me at the end of a night out the alcohol may have told you a different story. Food has been the one and only constant my entire life. It is always there and tastes so good. If you are upset, let's get cake. If you are celebrating something, let's go out to dinner. Stressed, overwhelmed, depressed, sad, happy, catching up with friends or family....eat, eat eat. Our lives are centered around food. It's a social thing, a reward. It's everywhere, of course it became my crutch. Did I realize ...
Well here we are again. Ramblings of the unimportant. My therapist would say that my first step should be to stop the negative self talk, but what would I say then? I am on a journey of healing. After nearing 45 years of various trauma, I'm afraid that it's going to be quite a long journey. My only prayer is that God allows me enough time to work through it before I am called home. I would hate to leave this life in as a disappointing way as I've managed to live it thus far. This is basically going to be my journal to healing. I need an outlet so I decided to dust off this log in and actually use it to get it all out of my head. Here we go.