Dear Anonymous

Two days ago, this is what happened.

~*~*~*~

Anonymous person on my tumblr: How could you let yourself go so much? Are you even trying to loose your baby weight?

My Answer: Wow. How brave of you to ask me that. Did it make you feel better? On another note, though, I’d probably be glad to answer your questions if you’d tell me who you are. Besides an asshole, of course.

~*~*~*~**~*~

This is what I wrote, afterwards:

Just a thought for the day after receiving my first piece of anonymous hate here on tumblr.

I am so sorry for everyone who has to deal with this bullshit. It does indeed hurt when random jackasses take the time and energy to write hurtful things. And on top of it, they are cowardly and weak for not telling you their names.

I don’t send things on anonymous. I believe in being accountable for the words you speak and write. It is why I am really careful with what I write and say to people. Have I made mistakes and fucked up badly? Of course I have. But I take responsibility and apologize.

So come off anon and say it to my face. Inasmuch as tumblr is, in any case. Maybe we can actually have a real-life conversation!

As a side note, being fat is not a bad thing. I’m not a bad person. Being fat does not equal bad. Being fat does not mean unhealthy either.

So, these are my thoughts.

~*~*~*~*~~*

Those were my thoughts at that point. It was two days ago.

Today, I am angry. Who are you, anonymous person, to question who I am and what I look like? Let myself go? Am I "even trying"? Here's the thing. I try every day. I try so fucking hard every day to get up out of bed and take care of my kids and feed everyone and on top of that fight huge amounts of depression and heartache. I have to schedule doctors appointments, make meals, plan outings, wash clothes, clean up messes and try not to swear like a sailor. 

I struggle, like many women, with my body image, but I'm not eighteen anymore. That body wasn't particularly well cared for either, I might add. I fucked up my body with a twin pregnancy and lack of exercise and a general lack of money and disregard for what I put in my body as well as a penchant for self loathing that manifests itself in myriad physical ways. I'm trying to change my lifestyle, a little at a time, but it is hard when you are trying to keep everyone's head above water. I am still working on loving myself. Some days I hate how I look. Most days I just tolerate it, because holy crap, I have so much else to worry about these days. Me being fat is truth. There is more fat on this body than there was 3 years ago. Some of that is my fault. Some of it isn't. I could work harder and diet more and lose all this weight. Some days I go for it. Some days I don't or can't. 

 I would assume that by saying this to me, you are trying to hurt me, and you would be correct. My love for myself isn't yet so great that it is not affected by what other people say to me. So congratulations, you have succeeded in what you wanted, which is to make me upset. Honestly, though, with me, it doesn't take much, so the reality is that you set that bar pretty low.

Some people are naturally gifted with the ability to juggle children. I'm not. It is a skill and a hard one to maintain and upkeep. Some days I enjoy it, others are I do not. I love my kids. They challenge me, excite me, make me love harder than I've ever loved. But I take my responsibilities to them seriously, which means some days all I can do is sleep at the end. 

But I am the same person I was. I have the same eyes. I love the same things. Fat or not, I am a decent person and at the end of the day, I am not making anonymous, hate-filled comments on the internet. I am myself. I am evolving and changing and gaining and losing and rising and falling. I am struggling and succeeding and failing. I am loving myself and hating myself and bettering myself even as I feel parts of me waste away. 

And anonymous, since I have a sneaking suspicion I may have known you in another life, I am sorry if and when I hurt you. There were and are deeply ugly parts of my life that even if I am open about, I am not proud of. I am sorry if I hurt you. Whoever you may be.  

Oh today

" I confess to almighty God
 and to you, my brothers and sisters
that I have sinned through my own fault
in my thought and in my words
through what I have done
and what I have failed to do."

I confess
that the majority of the time
I do not know if I believe in God.
I believe that there is some higher power
but I doubt it is only limited to a
Christian belief.
But I sing in the choir at my church any way
because there is power in the
kyrie eleison
and because
there is no where else to cultivate
the music that lives
somewhere in me.

I confess
that I hate the way people look at me some
times.
Like I am a pretty head
on a fat body.
And I am, I am overweight
and I like to eat
and drink
and laugh loudly.

I confess
that feeling tipsy saturday night
felt so good
I laughed so loudly
and had trouble walking straight
even in flats
but it felt good
and made me forget
and
and
and

I confess that even if
I don't believe in the words of the Mass
I hear these words in my head
when I sleep
because 21 years hearing them once a week
will make them stuck.
and I don't think they are perfect
or good
or right
but I hear them anyway

Saturday stuff

He said something yesterday
that made me smile.
he told me that he missed the apartment
and just me and him and
the kids.
and I have felt that way for a long time
since we left the apartment actually
and so, this made me smile.

Beyond that, I saw
Paranormal Activity 4 last night.
I screamed at least 8 times
and the theater full of people behind me
were doing the same thing
the last 5 minutes were definitely the most
frightening. 2 of those minutes ultimately proved
that even if everything is brightly lit,
horror in broad daylight is still
pretty fucking scary.

I started (again) the Vampire Diaries.
It is simultaneously good and bad.
and funny and silly.
I'm not too far in, but I want to catch up before the fourth
season goes insane. It is kind of cute
Here's hoping it gets better
or these people get smarter.
I like the idea of witches best.

I went through my writing and as
it turns out, I'm getting down about
5000 or so words a month.
Which is way up from the normal 1000
I was cranking out, but way down from
where I want to be. I want to make these
posts longer and I want to start (or continue)
writing fiction
but I'm not even sure where to begin.
It seems easier to journal the highs and lows
of my day but even then I'm not telling all of the
truth here.
There's few names and even fewer tellings of
where the connections are, I assume because I'm afraid
of people finding me.
or judging me.
Which is dumb for a multitude of reasons
because this is mine
my own
my precious......

Okay, all creepiness aside.
I'm a total fucking mess.
I have no motivation for anything, besides maybe writing
I want a job, but can't find one.
I hate cleaning, which makes my husband hate me.
I can't sleep well without Ambien.
I need a nap normally, but on a regular basis, I find myself having
trouble going to sleep.
I am waiting for my Halloween costume, but I have no where to go thats
technically appropriate to wear it.
I have a sexy costume, but I am fat so am I allowed to be sexy?
I hate 3D movies. I hate them so much. Going to the movies has
given me huge amounts of anxiety since I was little and so the advent
of movies where things intentionally jump out at you makes me
very afraid to set foot at or around movie theaters that show them.