A girl in my office got engaged last week. I don't know why I want this so badly - I don't like being the centre of attention, I look awful in photographs (trying not to think that this is because I look awful in real life too!) and white doesn't suit me at all (it matches my skin too closely). I think it's to do with being 'chosen' - as it is I feel a bit like the last person to be picked (reluctantly) for a team at school. And I have plenty of experience of that feeling. And to do with someone sort of saying 'you know what, I think you're so amazing that I want to - and I truly believe I will - be with you forever. And I want everyone I care about to know and celebrate my good fortune at having snagged you'. And whilst I know that this is never going to happen for me and most of me has accepted that fact, it still stings. In fact, that's bilge, I haven't accepted it all, I just pretend I have because I know there's nothing I can do - it's like my head knows it but my heart refuses to hear sense. It was beautifully encapsulated in the conversation with bf about this when I told him:
Bf: "Who'd marry her?" [NB she is a bit of a cow] "when are they getting married?"
Me: October next year I think
Bf: "That gives him plenty of time to leave her then"
Me: "I don't think so - they've been together for a while and live together"
Bf: "Why are they bothering getting married then?"
Me: "Er, love? Romance? Commitment?"
I find I can only have the mental strength to diet when I'm not agonising about other things. It's as if there's only room in my head for one thing. Then bf was quite tetchy and irritable with me most of the weekend. It turns out it was about my messiness and hoarding habit but to be fair I had agreed to do something about this - and I did. It's a big trigger for us; I would say he doesn't notice dirt but is quite anal about clutter. And I do hoard things terribly, it's true. And then I feel as if he's trying to clear me out of his life when he wants to get rid of my stuff. All very silly I'm sure.
But the upshot is that I have been rubbish with the diet and am now afraid to get on the scales, despite 4 days of cycling since holiday. I know that after 3 of those days AND eating properly, I had not shifted so much as a measly lb and I had a county fair at the weekend where actually I didn't go mad - partly because I was running around after my neices and nephew. And I lost so much skin - it was flayed off going down the helter-skelter with them, ouch - that I ought to have lost weight there alone! Then I had a curry for dinner with wine, then a baguette and cheese the next day and tacos for dinner with wine and ice cream because I felt short changed by the miserableness of the curry dinner where bf was in such a bad mood.
I feel depressed about my life at the moment - I'm heading for fat, fair and forty. Although I'm okay with the fairness (as a redhead you kind of get used to ghostly pallor). Less okay with the 40 and fat. In fact very not-okay. This can lead to a vicious and ridiculous and utterly pointless cycle of eating and fatness and depression. I can't let that happen, I won't. I have 2 more days when I can cycle in this week (weather permitting) and I cannot - will not - allow myself to try and use sugar as an emotional sticking plaster.