Thanks All Youse

Thanks, everyone, for your kind and helpful replies yesterday as I wrested My
New Life from the Jaws of Fatness.

It's interesting how life transitions challenge a person so much. A few years
ago, when I tried LC the first time, it was selling a house that yanked me off
LC because I hadn't gotten it yet and I thought that eating lots of Halloween
candy would ease my house separation anxiety. I didn't get back on LC for...hm.
Three years after that and at the end of those three years I weighed 278
pounds.

I should probably tell you all ( now that I can) that it was about two and a
half years ago that I discovered my husband was a criminal. I'm not talkin, oh,
he's emotionally unavailable and he stole my self esteem ( which he did, but
you can't go to prison for this). I mean: I found out my husband should be in
jail and it's sort of amazing he isn't yet.

Anyway. Every day, from that day to this one, has been part of C's Great
Escape. I was making myself stay dead because I wanted my son to have a father,
but I never really counted on his being a felon. That kind of changed things.
I knew the man was not exactly the most moral or well-adjusted human on the
earth, and it was really sad that we didn't get along and that he sort of dug
almost every other woman on the planet except me...but the crime thing, that
was, uh, my personal Maginot Line.

So...I've been working on it. I decided I wasn't going to be dead anymore, lost
118 pounds, quit smoking, started exercising, and got a second master's degree
in a field I knew I could work in until I was 88 years old. That took two
years, right there. I was a *very* quiet rabbit, nibbling away at the same
cinderblock until it was all gone.

Then I tucked my son away with his grandma and fled the state to start a new
life. Step six, phase two, plan A. The next thing is to collect my son when I
get my own place and a full-time job. I still don't have health benefits so
that's weird.

It takes a long time to recover the really bad mistakes of life, people. Listen
to me: that's why you should not make them to begin with.

So these people I'm living with are really helping me out a lot. They're sort
of saving my life so I can't be too ****y about my living arrangements, which
aren't bad, considering. That's why I feel a little weird about speaking up,
but all your supportive posts it got me thinking how I can work around it all.

So thanks for all the fish, people. I needed em.

c

The Art of No.

Hi C,
I'm just catching up here, been too busy lately so this evening just
started deleting threads left and right. Then I saw this post, so I
went and read your other posts (at least found a couple - I might have
deleted others but did find the subject you refer to).
It takes guts to just pick up and start over, and it sounds like you
more than had grounds for it. I hope it works out the best possible way
for you and your son.

Hang in there,
Carmen

Icrazyhorsei wrote:

I should probably tell you all ( now that I can) that it was about two and a
half years ago that I discovered my husband was a criminal. I'm not talkin, oh,
he's emotionally unavailable and he stole my self esteem ( which he did, but
you can't go to prison for this). I mean: I found out my husband should be in
jail and it's sort of amazing he isn't yet.

Ugh, the deadly imposition of marital secrets. I found out that in a
healthy relationship, no one needs to keep secrets! I couldn't
complain about my first husband and I was miserable the entire 17
years we were together. I can (and do!) complain about my second
husband and am generally extremely happy. Odd, isn't it?

Anyway. Every day, from that day to this one, has been part of C's Great
Escape. I was making myself stay dead because I wanted my son to have a father,
but I never really counted on his being a felon.

Yep, yep, I remember that. I made myself be dead because I'd made a
vow and was too pigheaded to see that it was the wrong thing for
both of us. What pulled me out of it was having a breast lump scare;
it turned out to be a nothing lump (as most of such lumps are) but
in the time between discovering it and getting the radiologist's
report, I made some decisions. The big one was that I was going to
LIVE my life. I'll be dead long enough, why start early?

I was a *very* quiet rabbit, nibbling away at the same
cinderblock until it was all gone.

Good for you! You did what you had to do and you did it well.

It takes a long time to recover the really bad mistakes of life, people. Listen
to me: that's why you should not make them to begin with.

It's a good theory but it has never worked for me. So I've
formulated a new theory: life mistakes are what give me a huge store
of interesting experiences. Not necessarily experiences I've wanted
but I certainly have lots of stories to tell!

So these people I'm living with are really helping me out a lot. They're sort
of saving my life so I can't be too ****y about my living arrangements, which
aren't bad, considering. That's why I feel a little weird about speaking up,
but all your supportive posts it got me thinking how I can work around it all.

Your ex has warped your sense of what a good relationship consists
of, I think. Not just marriage but any relationship thrives on
caring honesty and good boundaries.

I've discovered since I developed a good sense of myself and my
boundaries that people are more at ease with me now. My theory is
that people can now relax with me and not wonder what I'm hiding.
When I was trying to be dead, I tried so hard not to make demands on
anyone and to be everything anyone needed or wanted that no one
could get a sense of what I wanted, what I was willing to do, etc.
This didn't make me seem approachable and reliable, it made me seem
mysterious and deceitful.

Getting out of a horrible relationship gives one a baseline from
which to say "is this as bad as THAT was?" The answer is almost
invariably "heck no!" It's comforting.

Shirley

to reply via e-mail remove the trees from my address

On 27 Sep 2003 00:28:20 GMT, (Icrazyhorsei)
wrote:

Thanks, everyone, for your kind and helpful replies yesterday as I wrested My
New Life from the Jaws of Fatness.

It's interesting how life transitions challenge a person so much. A few years
ago, when I tried LC the first time, it was selling a house that yanked me off
LC because I hadn't gotten it yet and I thought that eating lots of Halloween
candy would ease my house separation anxiety. I didn't get back on LC for...hm.
Three years after that and at the end of those three years I weighed 278
pounds.

I should probably tell you all ( now that I can) that it was about two and a
half years ago that I discovered my husband was a criminal. I'm not talkin, oh,
he's emotionally unavailable and he stole my self esteem ( which he did, but
you can't go to prison for this). I mean: I found out my husband should be in
jail and it's sort of amazing he isn't yet.

Anyway. Every day, from that day to this one, has been part of C's Great
Escape. I was making myself stay dead because I wanted my son to have a father,
but I never really counted on his being a felon. That kind of changed things.
I knew the man was not exactly the most moral or well-adjusted human on the
earth, and it was really sad that we didn't get along and that he sort of dug
almost every other woman on the planet except me...but the crime thing, that
was, uh, my personal Maginot Line.

So...I've been working on it. I decided I wasn't going to be dead anymore, lost
118 pounds, quit smoking, started exercising, and got a second master's degree
in a field I knew I could work in until I was 88 years old. That took two
years, right there. I was a *very* quiet rabbit, nibbling away at the same
cinderblock until it was all gone.

Then I tucked my son away with his grandma and fled the state to start a new
life. Step six, phase two, plan A. The next thing is to collect my son when I
get my own place and a full-time job. I still don't have health benefits so
that's weird.

It takes a long time to recover the really bad mistakes of life, people. Listen
to me: that's why you should not make them to begin with.

So these people I'm living with are really helping me out a lot. They're sort
of saving my life so I can't be too ****y about my living arrangements, which
aren't bad, considering. That's why I feel a little weird about speaking up,
but all your supportive posts it got me thinking how I can work around it all.

So thanks for all the fish, people. I needed em.

c

The Art of No.



I agree with Carmen's sentiments. It takes a lot of guts (no pun
intended) to pick up and start over. I hope that you find the
happiness and success you're looking for.

In article ,
(Icrazyhorsei) wrote:

Thanks, everyone, for your kind and helpful replies yesterday as I
wrested My
New Life from the Jaws of Fatness.

It's interesting how life transitions challenge a person so much. A few
years
ago, when I tried LC the first time, it was selling a house that yanked
me off
LC because I hadn't gotten it yet and I thought that eating lots of
Halloween
candy would ease my house separation anxiety. I didn't get back on LC
for...hm.
Three years after that and at the end of those three years I weighed 278
pounds.

I should probably tell you all ( now that I can) that it was about two
and a
half years ago that I discovered my husband was a criminal. I'm not
talkin, oh,
he's emotionally unavailable and he stole my self esteem ( which he did,
but
you can't go to prison for this). I mean: I found out my husband should
be in
jail and it's sort of amazing he isn't yet.

Anyway. Every day, from that day to this one, has been part of C's Great
Escape. I was making myself stay dead because I wanted my son to have a
father,
but I never really counted on his being a felon. That kind of changed
things.
I knew the man was not exactly the most moral or well-adjusted human on
the
earth, and it was really sad that we didn't get along and that he sort of
dug
almost every other woman on the planet except me...but the crime thing,
that
was, uh, my personal Maginot Line.

So...I've been working on it. I decided I wasn't going to be dead
anymore, lost
118 pounds, quit smoking, started exercising, and got a second master's
degree
in a field I knew I could work in until I was 88 years old. That took two
years, right there. I was a *very* quiet rabbit, nibbling away at the
same
cinderblock until it was all gone.

Then I tucked my son away with his grandma and fled the state to start a
new
life. Step six, phase two, plan A. The next thing is to collect my son
when I
get my own place and a full-time job. I still don't have health benefits
so
that's weird.

It takes a long time to recover the really bad mistakes of life, people.
Listen
to me: that's why you should not make them to begin with.

So these people I'm living with are really helping me out a lot. They're
sort
of saving my life so I can't be too ****y about my living arrangements,
which
aren't bad, considering. That's why I feel a little weird about speaking
up,
but all your supportive posts it got me thinking how I can work around it
all.

So thanks for all the fish, people. I needed em.

c

The Art of No.



And in the light of all that - six pounds is nothing. (I think it was
six...)

But the 118 is everything.

Welcome back to life, c! You're an amazing woman.

--
Nancy Howells (don't forget to switch it, and replace the to send mail).

On 27 Sep 2003 00:28:20 GMT, (Icrazyhorsei)
announced in front of God and everybody:

Thanks, everyone, for your kind and helpful replies yesterday as I wrested My
New Life from the Jaws of Fatness.

It's good to see you're pulling it together. Good for you!

So ... I guess you've softened a bit on your "I'm not here for
support, I just like to talk about my diet" position, then? :-)

Dawn

On Sat, 27 Sep 2003 04:15:02 -0500, M Shirley Chong
wrote:

snip


When I was trying to be dead, I tried so hard not to make demands on
anyone and to be everything anyone needed or wanted that no one
could get a sense of what I wanted, what I was willing to do, etc.
This didn't make me seem approachable and reliable, it made me seem
mysterious and deceitful.

Oh ****, now I can see what my problem is. I'm dead

-----------------------------
When you're in jail:
A friend will be trying to bail you out.
A close friend will be in the cell next to you,saying "Damn that was fun."

F/32/5'4
Weeble/ teddy /Betty Spaghetti

So ... I guess you've softened a bit on your "I'm not here for
support, I just like to talk about my diet" position, then? :-)


Actually I'm not here very much at all anymore. The original post was asking
for a kick in the ass regarding my diet, not my personal life. The reason I
posted the rest is because I thought it was reasonable ( and safe) background
info on why cooking and eating and so forth was a slightly more challenging
proposition in my new environment.

In any event, neither post was meant for ****ing assholes such as yourself
particularly. But! If all you have to do with your life is hang around and
resurrect old posts from eighteen months ago, I wish you all the luck in the
world in finding something useful to do with yourself one day.



c

Seize the day, Dawn!

On 27 Sep 2003 00:28:20 GMT, (Icrazyhorsei)
wrote:

I admire your guts. I always have. I have no doubt that you'll be
standing upright when the rest are laid out on the tracks. Here's
buckets of fish to ya kid...

Lynne

Thanks, everyone, for your kind and helpful replies yesterday as I wrested My
New Life from the Jaws of Fatness.

It's interesting how life transitions challenge a person so much. A few years
ago, when I tried LC the first time, it was selling a house that yanked me off
LC because I hadn't gotten it yet and I thought that eating lots of Halloween
candy would ease my house separation anxiety. I didn't get back on LC for...hm.
Three years after that and at the end of those three years I weighed 278
pounds.

I should probably tell you all ( now that I can) that it was about two and a
half years ago that I discovered my husband was a criminal. I'm not talkin, oh,
he's emotionally unavailable and he stole my self esteem ( which he did, but
you can't go to prison for this). I mean: I found out my husband should be in
jail and it's sort of amazing he isn't yet.

Anyway. Every day, from that day to this one, has been part of C's Great
Escape. I was making myself stay dead because I wanted my son to have a father,
but I never really counted on his being a felon. That kind of changed things.
I knew the man was not exactly the most moral or well-adjusted human on the
earth, and it was really sad that we didn't get along and that he sort of dug
almost every other woman on the planet except me...but the crime thing, that
was, uh, my personal Maginot Line.

So...I've been working on it. I decided I wasn't going to be dead anymore, lost
118 pounds, quit smoking, started exercising, and got a second master's degree
in a field I knew I could work in until I was 88 years old. That took two
years, right there. I was a *very* quiet rabbit, nibbling away at the same
cinderblock until it was all gone.

Then I tucked my son away with his grandma and fled the state to start a new
life. Step six, phase two, plan A. The next thing is to collect my son when I
get my own place and a full-time job. I still don't have health benefits so
that's weird.

It takes a long time to recover the really bad mistakes of life, people. Listen
to me: that's why you should not make them to begin with.

So these people I'm living with are really helping me out a lot. They're sort
of saving my life so I can't be too ****y about my living arrangements, which
aren't bad, considering. That's why I feel a little weird about speaking up,
but all your supportive posts it got me thinking how I can work around it all.

So thanks for all the fish, people. I needed em.

c

The Art of No.

On 28 Sep 2003 05:36:58 GMT, (Icrazyhorsei)
announced in front of God and everybody:


In any event, neither post was meant for ****ing assholes such as yourself
particularly. But! If all you have to do with your life is hang around and
resurrect old posts from eighteen months ago, I wish you all the luck in the
world in finding something useful to do with yourself one day.

You know, one really tries to do the support thing. And one really
tries to be nice to people who rip others up one side and down the
other for no good reason, then come asking for support for their own
problems, then go back to the ripping. But it's not easy.

You've had a lot of sucky crap in your life, C. For that I'm sorry.
Believe it or not, I can even relate more than a little to your help
me/hurt me/look at me/leave me alone thing that you like to do. Hell,
I can even get a bit of a chuckle about you calling someone else a
"****ing asshole" after the way you've behaved in this forum during
your time here.

I hope you find what you need somewhere, some time. And that you can
admit that you want help from others enough to reach out and take it
if whatever it is you need is ever within your grasp.

Good luck.

Dawn