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This evening at the running store, I ran into an old running partner.

She and I were married (to different guys, of course) on the same day and were losing weight to prepare for our weddings. I had thought about her just the other day — she mentioned the same thing about me! Weird, right?!? She told me that she’d separated from her husband this year, and we chatted about that for a while. I just felt so awful — she’s my age, we share similar interests and the same wedding anniversary…

I talked to her about the issues that I’d had in my first two years of marriage, and just in general mused that we’d both been through a lot…

It was hard to even think about the state of my marriage just 6 months ago. Thinking about the potential for us to break up. How I’d been ready to leave. Mentioned that I didn’t just move in with friends because I had a house to pay for. I guess I’m grateful for the damn recession — otherwise I would have walked away. But instead, we got help. My husband got help. And we made it through. It can be a struggle, but I know now (at least for now), that things are going well. That we’re communicating, and that I want to be here. I have no doubt in my mind that I love him. I always have — that never changed. There were other issues that were getting in the way, that I could not get over. And luckily, that has (for the most part) worked it’s way out of our lives, and we’ve been able to move on from that.

Running into her, I realized that I’d been running away from the problems in my life for the past 7 years, and turning to food. And I started getting healthy when I realized that things were getting better, but also when I realized that I was at my ending point — that I couldn’t go much further. Over the 7 years, I’d tried really hard to get into shape. And I’d done it “right”. But my heart wasn’t in it. It is now. I want to live a long, healthy life for me. And if, in the end, it doesn’t work out between my hubby and I, I’ll be healthy, and I’ll feel better about me. Up until about 6 months ago, that’s not what this was about — it was more about looking good in a pair of jeans.

But, when I left, I went home, and made a reasonable dinner. But I poured a glass of wine. Then another. Then made 2 s’mores. Then 2 more. Then another glass of wine. I often think that I am not an emotional eater. Had that conversation with my therapist earlier this week — I switch back & forth between admitting it. I’m not a binger. But I do use food & drinks to make me feel better. And it does, for a while — until it doesn’t anymore. That’s where I’m at now.


About TresLaLa

I'm really just a thin girl with a lot of extra padding...

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