Anger....

The thing about writing when no one really knows who you are is that you can be totally honest without worrying about hurting yourself. You can say what your heart feels and not worry that someone will say something along the lines of 'You don't realllly feel that way, do you?' and have to come up with an intelligent answer.

The Chubby Mommy is a good name for me. Of course, i did play with other names like "The REALLY Chubby Mommy" and "The Chubby Mommy with the Pretty Face" for my secret blog. And then, of course, there were the "The Growing Chubby Mommy Blogs" and "The Chubby Mommy Eats Again"....

Back to "Anger"....

I have anger 'issues'. And it's not pretty. I've always thought that my being angry was my best kept secret next to my being chubby but it's not really a secret. I hate my anger. It's a non-forgiving type of anger that stretches way back to my much younger years. I know the roots of where my anger started. And i know why the anger runs so hot. Instead of fading, this anger has gotten worse. This anger of mine has grown and has spilled over into other areas of my life. I'm embarrassed by it, and i'm ashamed of it.

Instead of realizing that i need to do something about this anger of mine, i keep feeding it. What started out as anger towards my father for how he treated my mother has turned into heart wrenching mess. My father has issues; he has always had issues. Hurtful, ugly issues. And his issues continue to this day.

What is interesting about my anger is that my husband tells me that the only place that my anger doesn't spill over to is with my daughter. There, he says, he sees
a gentleness and a sweetness that he wishes i would share with others.

I don't do forgiveness well. Okay, i suck at forgiveness.

How would it be if God was like that in the forgiveness area?

What if he was not forgiving?

I'm reading a book now about "Women and their Anger Issues".

I'm only as far as Chapter 2.

It's hard to read, because i see myself. And it's not in a pretty light.

And of course, it leads me back to being fat chubby....do i eat to sooth my anger? Or is food my constant source of comfort no matter what the emotion may be? Are my issues with food due to my anger?

Either way, both my anger and food issues need to be dealt with. Both have had enough time in my life, i think. Those issues have been a part of me for so long, i wonder what i would be like without them?

I suppose it's time to pull up the big-girl panties and start figuring things out...i am uncomfortable looking at me on the inside and the outside. Self love isn't one of those things that i'm blessed with. In fact, it's kinda hard to find for me.

How can i teach my daughter healthy traits if i don't learn them for myself first?

Begin Again...

Well, i've mapped out my classes for this week.

Monday: Basic Zumba 11:15am-12:00pm
Tuesday: Flow Yoga 9:30am-10:30am OR Basic Step 7:30pm-8pm
Wednesday: Zumba 9:15am-10am
Thursday: Mat Pilates 9:30am-10:30am
Friday: Beginner Running Class 8:15am- 9:15am
Saturday: Zumba 10:15am-11:15am

My size 16 shorts are VERY snug.

I'm sick. I'm sad. I'm disgusted.

But what did i expect? Really? I stopped exercising. I eat crap. I rarely drink water. I drink diet soda. I eat stuff i know to stay away from.

If i don't get off my rear, i can expect those size 16 shorts not to fit very soon.

I can't let that happen.....

Sadness

Sometimes my sadness gets the best of me. Maybe despair is a better word than sadness. It's a feeling that i will never change, that i will always be this way, that i am not worth trying to change. That i'm not the wife that i should be, that i'm not the mother that i want to be, that i'm not the woman that i want to be and never will be.

This feels like giving up. Like not bothering. Like not trying.

To feel like you are not worth bothering with is a sadness and desperation like no other.

The list of things that are "wrong" with me is endless: i'm fat, i'm ugly, i'm lazy, i can't loose weight, i'm a poor role model for my daughter, i'm not a good enough wife, i'm not a fantastic cook, i snore, i don't keep house well enough, and did i mention that i'm fat?

Yes, it's been that kind of day for me. Actually, it's been that kind of week for me. It gets harder and harder sometimes to care. I do the things that i'm suppose to do and to everyone else, i suppose i look like and feel like the happy wife and mother.

On the inside?

Not so much.

If i could hide under a rock, stay under the covers and not come out, i would. It's a fight sometimes, it truly is. It's almost as though things are too hard to deal with.

The most amazing part of this is that i have a wonderful daughter, a sweet and caring husband, a home and all of the things that one thinks they need to be happy.

So why isn't it working?