Six years ago, I received an emergency pacemaker. Don’t get me started on the inadequacies of Western medicine. I was sent home with allergy meds and if I hadn’t questioned their diagnosis, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now typing up a storm. Anywho, every 6 months I go in to get my pacemaker fine tuned. As I sit there waiting for my doctor, I think about what has occurred since our last visit and it never ceases to amaze me how much has happened in my life in those past 6 months.
April 2014 I received the pacemaker, my father was alive, my relationship with John was healthy and my brother was supposed to be dying from cirrhosis of the liver. I worked for WFM steadily for 14 years. Oh yeah, and I was fat, but alive and on the road to recovery from one of the most nightmarish experiences of my life.
October 2014 my father was alive, but requiring more attention. We celebrated his 91st birthday, my relationship with John was healthy, my brother was still alive (he was supposed to be dying, right?). Since my father required more attention, my weekly visits with John were held at my home and he was becoming a part of our family. I was working at WFM and I was gaining weight.
April 2015 my father was alive, but there was something wrong. I came home from a work dinner and he was standing in the kitchen without his pants on. He had no idea why and in that moment, life changed. I no longer allowed him to be home alone. I received some help from the VA, but mostly it was my son and I that kept an eye on him. Friends helped in a pinch to make certain he was fed and cared for. Wheels on Meals helped by visiting, a blessing because trying to get other assistance was something we really couldn’t afford. My other brother came in from Wisconsin to help when he could, but the brother, the one that was supposed to be dying, he could have helped, same for my sister, but no they had their lives to live, they couldn’t help. I was still working at WFM, my relationship with John was healthy, but my weight was at an all time high and I had no idea.
October 2015 my father celebrated his 92nd birthday in a nursing home. The unthinkable had happened, he stopped walking and was diagnosed with dementia. He was out of his mind and for the most part, he had no idea who I was anymore. He would say things to me that no one should ever say to one’s daughter, but he was no longer himself. I was still working at WFM and most everyday I was also visiting my father at the nursing home. I was struggling with my depression being at an all time high. I thought my relationship with John was still going strong, but as I would find out later, he was already with her and avoiding me more and more. I knew my life was no longer a “good time”, but I had no idea of the depths of his lies and deceit. My alcoholic brother was still alive, his abusive alcoholic wife as well. They and my sister liked to tell me what I should be doing, but they did nothing to help as my father declined. My brother from Wisconsin came to relieve me from time to time, greatly appreciated. Dad was not doing well, but we had no idea how long he would last, so we made plans to take care of him at home while he waited to go to a VA nursing home we could afford. My son would take off from school to care of him during the day and he would sleep when I got home from work, that was the plan. I was fat, I was numb, I survived.
April 2016 my father had passed a few months earlier, a blessing in disguise. John had not come to my side. Later I would find out that he was with her instead. I took care of my father’s affairs and John moved into my home while I was at a immersion program through work. In other words, a fat farm that was so horrific for me that I literally had a panic attack. But hey, I lost 10 lbs. that week, hooray! My alcoholic brother was still alive, but surprisingly, his abusive alcoholic wife died, literally drank herself to death. I was still working at WFM, but would soon find out that my position was being eliminated. Oh yeah, I was still fat, but I managed to lose another 10 lbs. and my heart doctor was very proud of me.
October 2016 I was now working for a different health food store and dealing with a set of circumstances that to this day, I am grateful to have survived. My relationship with John was becoming strained as he stopped paying me rent. He didn’t even warn me, I had to confront him. He told me that there were issues at work and that he was only being paid a fraction of his pay. I being me, believed him and coped with not having that money to cover the expenses of keeping us in my home. My alcoholic brother was still alive, in and out of rehab, but still kicking 2 years after being told he was dying and yes, I was still fat.
April 2017 my work situation was improving now that I had leadership that believed in me. In a couple of months, I would be running my own store. John was becoming more distant. My brother was still alive and I was gaining weight.
October 2017 I was successfully running my own store. John and I were still a couple, but I was becoming increasingly resentful of him not paying rent. I reasoned with myself that if the situation were reversed, he would take care of me. My brother was still alive, in and out of rehab and I didn’t care about my weight, but I was still fat.
April 2018 John and I were together nine years. Who would have thought we’d be together that long. I sincerely felt he was the love of my life and that we would grow old together. My brother was still alive. I began therapy due to a family issue I was having trouble dealing with a few months later. I wasn’t happy anyway, my relationship with John was strained at best. However, I didn’t know why. I knew I wasn’t happy with him not paying rent, but I didn’t understand why I just didn’t feel close to him anymore. I was still fat, but I didn’t care.
October 2018, a month after my life hit the fan. The other woman had found me and informed me that I was living a lie. I kicked John out. I informed my heart doctor about my breakup with John the Pilot, how it had all been a lie. I asked if my pacemaker had recorded anything unusual in September. Nope, he hadn’t broken my heart just my faith in…well, everything. My brother was alive, in or out of rehab, who knows anymore. I am fat, end of story.
April 2019 my therapist keeps pushing me to start writing. I have so much to say, so much healing to do, I suppose it would be worth it, if I even helped just one person. My brother is alive, he’ll probably outlive me. I am fat.
October 2019 I have begun to write a blog, I even have business cards to promote myself. Work is going well, I’m out there trying to find Mr. Right in all the wrong places, but I don’t care. It’s giving me something to write about, right? I am still horribly broken, but I go to work, do my job well and as my father used to say, I keep sucking air. Of course my brother is alive, maybe in rehab? I’m fat, but I’m working out and trying to eat better, it’s worth a shot.
April 2020 – I think my actual heart doctor appointment was in February, but who’s counting. The world is on fire, but I am managing…or am I. My brother is in and out of rehab and hospitals so much I have no idea where he is and I’m kind of done. I’m working out, feeling good, but I’m going to fucking eat whatever I want because tomorrow may never come. I bought a crossbow, enough said.
October 2020 – well, that hasn’t happened yet, but I had my heart doctor appointment last week. My appointments were never really exactly 6 months apart, life isn’t that neat and organized now is it. My relationship with John ended 2 years ago, thank god! I’ve been writing my blog for 1 year, thank you my persistent therapist! My brother is alive, but the last time we chatted he had accidently called me when he meant to call my sister. I told him I would let him go since it wasn’t me he meant to speak with anyway. Yeah…good luck bro the only one who can help you is yourself and I think that ship has sailed. Yes, I’m still fat. Odds are, I will be the remainder of my life. Here’s the thing, I do work out and I don’t eat that much. I went to a thyroid specialists and he was of no help so, fuck it. I am who I am. I do the best that I can and I am still sucking air.
April 2021…Anybody’s guess really. I just hope I’m still here and you’re still here willing to read my silly little blog. Be well. No really, be well. Take care of yourselves, no one else is going to do it for you. Try to eat better, take some vitamins, drink plenty of water, get a good night’s sleep, exercise and be kind to yourself. Please, really be kind to yourself, no matter what is going on in this world. I’m really glad you’re here with me, me and my fatness trying to figure things out.
I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Peace out.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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