I’ve been doing so well in therapy. I’ve made tremendous strides and I’m relearning how to feel. Emotions aren’t the bad monster that I’ve been taught. They’re actually the exact opposite. You want to have emotions! It’s all in how you handle what you’re feeling. Go ahead and feel angry! Please don’t rear end the car in front of you that’s being a pissy driver.

What do you do once all these feelings and emotions come flooding into your life? Do I try and stuff them away again? HELL NO! I have fought so hard to feel again, I’m not giving up so easily this time. Sometimes I wish I could. That blanket you had growing up that you just never wanted to give away? It somehow protected you and made you feel so safe. That’s what it’s like for me and stuffing my feelings. If I ignore them and don’t take the time to reach down and discover why I’m feeling the way I am, I’ll feel safe because that’s what I’ve been taught to do for so long.

How I Met Your Mother is one of my favorite shows of all time. I’ve seen every episode (multiple times). I watched the last five episodes today. Finally, I let myself cry. No, it wasn’t for the show being over. It wasn’t over the characters. I cried for the loss of my marriage in 2011.

The end of my marriage meant the end of so many things for me. I need to go back to my adolescents and beyond. I never thought I would get married. No one was ever going to love me enough to want to stay with me until death. So when someone proposed to me, I said yes without thinking long term. All I thought was that someone more than liked me, they loved me. Another person wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. Soooooo crazy. I think at that moment I let myself go in a way. There were a million flashing signs to run. I ignored them all. Don’t worry, I’m not going to go into them (well, maybe in another post).

Going back to the reason HIMYM made me cry. Even though no one in the show was perfect, they were far from it, in the end they were happy. What got to me the most is that in some way, they all got kids. Even if it wasn’t biologically theirs (Robin finally being with Ted, Barney’s brother, James, adopting), no one ended up alone. Something finally snapped for me tonight. First, when the mental illness’s started rearing their ugly heads, I didn’t think I’d live to see 30. I have, plus a few. I never thought I’d get married. I did that too, but failed miserably. Somehow through all of this, I have always wanted to be a mother. I love children so much. When I’m well, I’m a nanny. When people ask why I don’t have kids, I always joke around that I like to play with them and give them back when it gets hard. More than anything, I want a child to put to bed every night. As the years go by, I know it’s becoming less and less obtainable. Honestly, it makes me feel horrible to say the least. I always joke around about me not being in relationships. It hurts. I can come up with a million reasons why I’m not, but damn, I see people worse off than me in happy relationships.

I hide behind my body so I can use that as an excuse as to why no one asks me out. I keep eating because fat people are disgusting and lazy: no one wants to go out with that. Now that I had a complete cry session tonight, maybe I can start changing things. It’s time for me to be happy. Right?


Beauty is in the eye of the beholder


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