Getting Back on the Damn Wagon

I started a blog last summer simply to share photos and talk about my life in Colorado because most of my family/friends still reside in Minnesota, but as I get more into this blogging universe, I am continually amazed by the sheer number of people in this world who all communicate their deepest thoughts & feelings, their struggles & their triumphs…all through this crazy medium to people they’ve never met and probably never will.  There’s some comfort in that anonymity, and I’ve decided to start my own separate, private blog to do something of that same vein.

The biggest struggle in my life right now – weight.  (Go figure, right?!)

I have every reason to be happy – a steady job, a wonderful, loving husband, beautiful surroundings… and yet I find myself spiraling into this sad, angry place where I deal with all of my “bad” feelings by binge eating and drinking.  I suppose I’ve struggled with this for the last 10 years, though it’s just now that I’m starting to realize how much it affects every part of my life.

I miss my long time (“old”) friends in Minnesota.  I really, really do.  I suppose that goes hand in hand with being jealous of my husband’s friendships, because he has some truly GREAT friends out here that he has known since moving here in 6th grade.  The only problem with that – the vast majority of people we know out here are his friends, not mine.  Even if the girl happens to be my friend, I probably met her b/c her husband/boyfriend/brother/whatever is friends with Hubby.  Have I mentioned that he’s lived here for 15 years and me only 5?  Therein lies the problem…  I just miss having my own good friends, and that’s a hard thing when we live in a really tiny town (pop. 1000) with not a lot of friend options.

Also, I was raised in such a family orientated, religious community… and where I live now is nothing like that.  I don’t mean that there aren’t good people here, but it’s just different. I know that sounds incredibly whiny and childish, but I seriously miss having friends who were raised like ME – who goes to the local Lutheran Church every Sunday, who are used to massive family gatherings for all holidays and events, who value education & music more than getting stoned.  I just don’t understand Coloradans sometimes.

I know that I’m incredibly lucky that my amazing in-laws live here and I do have some type of family around.  Most people in this area are “wanderers”… here to ski for a winter, raft for a spring, bike for a summer, or hike for a fall…many of these people move on, but some (like me) don’t… and we’ve ended up with this odd conglomeration of people who are lucky to have known each other more than a couple of years, and there just isn’t any family history or neighborly ties. I miss that. I miss my family.

I think it’s a combination of these things that get me so down…so depressed… and ever since I moved here, if we wanted to have “fun” – we got shit faced.  Not “OMG I’M SUCH A LIGHTWEIGHT AND I’M DRUNK AFTER 3 BEERS” but more the, “what? you’ve only had a 12 pack tonight? did you forget to count those pre-game jagers?” kind of fun that is followed up by eating a massive plate of nachos…

I’m certainly not innocent in this… and I have fully enjoyed myself a lot of drunken nights… but maybe it’s time for me to freakin’ MOVE ON and quit the insanity! Why do we always have to drink to have fun?  Why can I ask that question but not seem to quit drinking myself?  Why am I such an emotional eater/drinker??

Why. Why. Why.

The story of my life.

I’m 5′ 8″ and 170#.  HFS. That is more than I have ever weighed in my life, and it scares the living crap out of me!  I checked my BMI the other day, and I’m solidly in the dreaded fat as hell overweight category.

How did I let this happen??????????????

I always bragged that I could “maintain” at about 155# with not much effort..well, obviously I’ve let THAT notion go!  At 145# I feel DAMN good, and if I was ever disciplined enough, I could probably be SMOKING at 135#… so how come I can be so incredibly motivated about so many things in life, but I cannot will not control this?

I am so tired of this battle, and I’m only 27.

Scary thing is that I want to be pregnant.  Crave being pregnant. My biological clock is screaming at me, and though we’ve been trying for months, it hasn’t happened, and a scary little voice in the back of my head is saying, “Of course you’re not pregnant.  You still love going to the bars and drinking.  You’re overweight.  Is that any way to be acting if you want to have a baby? Get over yourself!  GROW UP before you try and raise a child of your own!”

Damn little voice.

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4 comments

  1. I hate that voice. Let's kill it. On the other hand, I should have known you were from MN because one of my best friend's is from there so I generally like you people….as long as you do don't say "melk" or "ruff". Because then, I get to make fun of you. 🙂

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  2. Ya, shure, youbetcha… I happen to be 100% Norwegian. 🙂 I actually don't have much of an accent anymore b/c of living in France and speaking the language for so long and then moving to southwest CO where everyone has different accents so we've all blended together. If I go back to MN though, I can easily slip back into it. 🙂

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  3. […] it was exactly 6 years ago (11/10/2009) that I started this blog with a post entitled “Getting Back on the Damn Wagon.” It’s pretty incredible to me to realize how much has changed and how much has stayed […]

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  4. […] very first blog post here was written & posted in November of 2009, and I wrote about being up to 170# (the highest […]

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