I’m going to talk about something I hate talking about now. Ugh.

If I went and weighed myself right now, my scale would totally say this. Also, it would cry… if that were possible.

My weight. I absolutely despise talking about weight, diets and etc. I just don’t want to feel like one of “those women”. You know, the ones who should get an fing hobby because that is ALL they talk about. It’s like, do you have anything else to say? Any other interesting or intelligent thoughts running through your brain? No? That’s what I thought.

So I’ve tried to be strong, I’ve tried to ignore it because I have been for so long now, but I can’t anymore. I have to get this out there. I am so unhappy with the amount of weight i’ve gained in the last two years. It’s probably like 40 lbs by now. That is such a scary thing to type. You see, this is the longest I have ever gone without medication, couple that with the “autism stuff” that we just started to discuss around two years ago and well, its not so hard to see why. I know I know its like, boo hoo me right? Well, i’m trying hard not to be like that, I think I am coming out on the other side of that thanks to wordpress and not feeling so alone with my thoughts. I need to take serious responsibility for my body and health. I have been totally neglecting my body and mind for two years now. I honestly just did not care about myself, I mean, I really don’t right now either. So i’m going to make a couple of confessions right now, and they might sound really pathetic or sad but hey, what the hell.

What’s the point? I mean, who really gives a shit about what I look like? No one. I mean, they might but well, who cares? So they look at me and make a split second judgement and them move on with their lives right? So then I think, well I have more important things to think about and focusing on myself and feeling hot is just not a priority, right? Or am I way off (I think to myself), maybe the problem is just that. That if I felt better about myself I just might feel better and then I would be a better mom. Then I feel like crap and think about how crappy of a mom I must have been for the past two years or whatever. I don’t even want to say how much I weigh, well I honestly can’t because I honestly don’t know. Lets just say I feel chubby and I know I look chubby and to make it worse, I don’t fit in any of my clothes. I have that sad depressed girl look about me, the one where you only wear sweatshirts and yoga pants. I’m not kidding. I need to break out of this I feel sorry for myself funk. I was raring to go after I had Lennon, I got right on the treadmill and took responsibility for my pregnancy weight gain damn it! Back when that seemed to be a priority, but is it now? I think it just might be. I need to feel better, because if I don’t feel good then its more likely i’m putting those not so good feelings onto Lennon and i’m not being the best mom I can be. Thats the funny thing about depression and anxiety though. The last thing you want to do is get on the treadmill or give up sleep when sometimes that’s your only escape. J would probably crap his pants if I all of the sudden got my ass up and said, “i’m working out and i’m not going to eat like shit today!” he would be like, “who the hell are you?”.

Yup, sounds like I need a change. I’m going to go blub away now.