Mixed Signals

I know he likes big women. I know he has been with bigger women than me. He can’t shut up about that part when it comes up. Still, knowing that I could lose him just because I want to lose 60 pounds and keep going until I am 150 pounds….that hurts. And this is what he has said to me. He will no longer be attracted, and that he wants me big. “We will find a happy medium”.

I don’t want that.

I mean, yes I said I was his and my body was his. But consider the context of that. Spiritually, as partners. Physically, as lovers. I’m still in charge of my body. I want to be healthy so that we can have kids. So that I can live my best life, not tied down to asthma or gout. So that I can feel better about myself. Sometimes I feel great, sometimes I do not. This is a personal battle, but now I have to consider the fact that I could lose this guy, because “one of the reasons” he chose to be with me is because I’m big and tightly stacked?

The fact that I’m kind, funny, passionate, wacky, and full of empathy means nothing? The fact that I’d do anything to love, honor, and protect means nothing? The fact that I took a chance to be with him, despite the distance….means nothing? If I lose weight, it’s all over?

I guess this confuses me, because at the same time my weight and physical ability has been commented on by him. He didn’t believe me when I said I had an asthma attack going up that huge hill to take out the garbage. Granted it was good exercise, I could have passed out. His nonchalant response was to get over it and do that one little thing he asked…even if it was uncomfortable. Then he laughs and jokes about me being allergic to healthy food because certain granola (the one in KIND bars and Honey Bunches of Oats) makes me itch. THAT HURT. I love fruits and veggies. He kept joking about that, but got hurt when I quipped about him thinking he was a guru because he works out.

At one point he even talked about wanting to see me healthier. But when I talk about direct goals? Oh no. That’s too much. Why should I stay obese? Because nobody else could possibly want me? Because if I’m fat, I won’t go anywhere? And although he told me my long profile is what attracted him, and he wouldn’t have done all he did thus far if he didn’t love me….

The weight loss comments have me screwed up.

I want to lose weight.

How is that a threat or a risk to our relationship? If we are really in love here, none of that should matter. Me losing weight to be a steady 145 or 150 should not be an issue.

If you love me for me, and not for what I look like.

 

 

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I have to be super offensive for a minute.

Listen.

You are probably not someone’s fix for depression.

You might be something that makes the days better, you might be a shoulder to cry on, and you might be their support….

…..

….but don’t get mad and puffed up if they have a moment of depression. Don’t be salty just because they still have it.

If you know somebody who had it and got over it, that’s great. That’s them. Don’t tell that to the person you’re with, who is still going through something. Whether it is chemical or circumstantial, whether it is BOTH–don’t fucking compare them to other people. That makes it WORSE.

Why do people get so offended when you have depression?

“I’m here, so you should be happy and better.”

Well,

I had these feelings before I met you. I had them before I even knew what they were. I could never afford to get help for them. I’ve been analyzed a few times. Anxiety, Depression. Simple, direct. I know what I have.

You are a wonderful person. You are also a very annoying and hurtful person at times. You’re impatient and don’t understand things a lot, sometimes.

I think this is one of those big things.

You cannot expect me to erase all of this overnight. You say “I don’t”, but the commentary says otherwise. You are here, yes. I am happier, yes. But this thing isn’t going away so fast. And it would be incredibly great if my “supporter” would stop commenting on it like it’s a series of paperwork or some annoying thing they can’t handle.

I hear the tired tone in your voice.

I hear the exasperated sighs.

I feel/see/hear the inconsideration.

You are not medication. You are not a mental health doctor. You are but one imperfect person. I ask you to be there for me, not make all these comments about why I need to be happy.

That also implies I’m ungrateful for you being here.

There are so many things, I think, that need to change between us. If people are willing to change. It seems like we care so much, we talk about doing the work, but the obstacles make it harder.

Traveling, opinions, moods, excuses, family traits.

I mean…

You found a way to cope and be stronger than you know. I find ways to cope. But sometimes it’s overwhelming. It just simply is.

Well,

that’s all I had to say.

I think I’m supposed to be smiling and suffering in perfect silence or something. People–most of them–would rather not hear that you’re sad in such a world of privilege. I see what I have. Trust me, I see it.

I see it.

Not every moment is dark by the way.

Not every case of depression is textbook.

You cannot always solve every problem.

Just be there for me. WITHOUT the snarky commentary.

Yes, it’s snarky.

I wrote a poem about what it’s like for me.

There are people who are so ahead of their time, feeling-wise, that you don’t get their message until years and several relationships later. I keep mulling it over in my head–not to seek the past or bring them into my life, but it’s like wow….”I get it now”.

He kept saying to me over and over “I wish I was wanted and needed”, or “I want to be wanted and needed.”

That made me mad. What was I, chopped liver? I dissolved things when I felt like I had no place in their life. Typical feelings for someone being told very much about what other people are doing, but not very much about you except “you’re good.” I…probably should have known then and there that I’d missed out on the great person, great girlfriend manual. Still, I was mad. Wasn’t I there? Wasn’t I good enough?

So years passed, and the words faded into the back of my mind. I considered them a person who just was not satisfied, and was coping more than anything else. Coping with people, coping with their job, blah blah. I never really considered the fact that even with “all the stuff”, one can feel terribly lonely in a crowd and a life full of people. Something can always be missing, and maybe you’ll live an entire life without finding it out what it is. Maybe you’ll keep coming back to this life, until you find out what it is.

At the time, I was also trying to be this healer. Sometimes I still do that, and I can admit that is the only place where I may overthink, because I grow to love and care for people, and wish them the best. I don’t try to be mom or wife, but sometimes it happens. In any case, Miss Healer felt out of place. Miss Healer felt like nobody, and took those words to heart.

I’m older now. About 7 or 8 years have passed, and suddenly I get it.

Great timing, right?

It seems like such a bad, ungrateful thought, but a lot of people have the thought. A lot of people think like this, and need to find a way to work through it. The only problem is, when you tell people in your life how you feel, it gets tricky. It gets offensive. How do you tell people–if they’re already there–that you feel alone? It’s not exactly the best conversation to have over coffee.

So, the work continues to fix that feeling. There has to be a better way.