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.

 

 

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.

“But You’re Thirty…”

Actually, I’m 31….but Claro que sí….I’m in my thirties. Getting judged for my likes and interests, but being told constantly to stop talking about how old I am. Being told to be myself, but having said interests, likes, and ideas labeled as stupid. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, but I guess I didn’t get the manual on how to be in my thirties the right way. I’m doing me, I’m being me, and that’s “idiotic” now.

What? Cross the year mark before you decide who I am or what’s uncool about me. I won’t change it but by all means, try me. This is just like that time I was minding MY business, waiting for my cousin to come out of some teeny bopper party, and some shit ass dude said “you needa stop playin’ them games sweetheart!” when I told him I was 22 and playing Yoshi’s Island. Well fuck that. I don’t follow the so-called mold of being this or that. Been there, done that, would rather be myself any day.

So I got mad and defensive on today’s front. I’m allowed to do that. THAT ended up in “Imma let you go” territory, and that is what inspired today’s list.

I am 31 and:

  1. I still collect stuffed animals. Yoshi, Hello Kitty, Li’l Bub, Care Bears
  2. I love certain children’s songs.
  3. I like graphic tees.
  4. I quote cartoons and viral videos from time to time. Who doesn’t?
  5. I love Beyonce! THAT seems to be a problem. Why? Don’t know, don’t care.
  6. I like ridiculous YouTube videos. The silly ones, the viral ones, the eye-rolling ones. Love them.
  7. I like a lot of YouTubers who are actually younger than I am: MacDoesIt, Markiplier, Odd1sOut, and JacksFilms especially.
  8. Sometimes I color pictures. Colored pencils, on the floor, eyes wide open, with a smile.
  9. I still edit my Gaia Online avatar.
  10. Sometimes I like to visit Mediatakeout.
  11. YES, I AM INTERESTED IN THE REMY MA AND NICKI MINAJ BEEF. I’m not even a fan of either one. I have listened to a few songs and honestly it’s just petty drama. It’s life, it’s publicity–it’s interesting.
  12. I have over 20 Gift ‘Ems Girls because I think they’re cute.
  13. I have a ball collection from those 25-cent machines seen at stores.
  14. I FUCKING LOVE GLITTER.
  15. I like rainbows.
  16. I also like tinsel. Lots. Of. Tinsel.
  17. I love blowing bubbles.
  18. I eat cereal at odd hours of the day, but never actually at breakfast time.
  19. I collect FunkoPop dolls!
  20. I read manga and collect comics.
  21. I like Candy Crush, Neko Atsume, Klepto Cats, and almost all the popular puzzle games.
  22. I follow tons of parakeet and cat accounts on Instagram.
  23. I like candy. Judge me for that, too.

I like a lot of stuff. I am not wound up or stuck on “what an adult should like”. I chose not to live like that, because of my jovial nature. It makes me happy. Things make me cope. I don’t like to spend every waking moment in the unhappiness that plagues me. I want to live, to smile, and I function and cope differently. Why does it have to be stupid? Why does anyone feel like they need to repeat “but you’re 3o…” over and over, like that’s going to change my mind or make me feel bad? It pisses me off. YES, I AM 31. YES, I LIKE CERTAIN THINGS. GET OVER IT.

You’re not paying for it, so why does it matter? If you like me for who I am, it shouldn’t matter. Especially if you’re into some pretty childish or things some would call “stupid”. I have opinions, but I don’t go in on you. I leave it alone because you like what you like, and you’d be nine times as defensive. We BOTH know what it feels like to be judged, so why even go there, despite what you’re feeling. Blunt, blunt, blunt all the time until somebody pops off.

After all we’ve identified with, who are you to climb on the high horse and look down upon me, just because you’re sooooo over something? Don’t even know the whole story, but you have so much to say about it, despite not caring. It’s more of the fact that I have an interest in it. “You of all people. I can’t believe it.” Why, because it makes me like everyone else? Why, because it’s beneath you? Right, because you’re so above it all and I’m just a lowly peon. That beef thing has been online for almost 24+ hours. The memes are funny. Some of these posts are gold. GOD. I’m not allowed to have fun now? I gotta be all high tea prim and proper? All put together and perfectly mature, huh.

I will like what I like, until I choose not to like it anymore. If you don’t like it ’round here, find another, ‘nother love.

I will not apologize for being myself.