It’s been 75 days since he passed. I decided that I’d stop grieving on Day 66. And, I did. Mostly. What happened, as it turns out, is that decision changed me a bit. It brought my present into clearer view. He controlled me so much during his lifetime. I don’t want him controlling me from beyond the grave. It’s as simple as that. Do I love him, still? Yes. I always will. But he can’t have any more of my time. He’s stolen enough of it, and I let him do it. I don’t have to allow that now.
Tomorrow, I’ll be going to see the weight loss surgeon. I’ve done two prescreen interviews by phone. In the morning, I’ll meet the doctor who will perform my surgery, be interviewed, again, and have an exam to make sure that I’m up for it. I’ve had the opportunity to get the surgery on two other occasions. Each time, after meeting with the doctor, etc., I left realizing that I was not ready for such a life altering surgery. I opted out of the last one because I was worried I couldn’t drink all I wanted to. Wow. I can’t believe I thought like that. But I’m in a good place in life now, oddly enough. I’m ready for a major change. And, I’m willing to take the steps to accommodate change.
The doctor is going to ask me why I allowed myself to gain so much weight. I’ve thought a lot about what I’ll say. The truth is that I did it because I stopped caring about living. The ‘why’ of it all is inconsequential, really. I’ve no one to blame but myself. That feels awful, and good, at the same time. We all have issues that others feed in to. But, at the end of the day, we determine how we let ourselves respond. For me, food worked because I had a life to live and I couldn’t run around drunk. I think it’s like that for a lot of people. Since he died, I notice that I don’t eat for emotional reasons as much. I do eat a lot out of boredom, but not to quiet anxiety or fear. I have barely eaten candy since he passed. Every time I’d start a diet, he’d buy me candy. I don’t know why. I think he got a sick thrill out of testing my resolve. Same as with his cheating. But, only one of us is left standing and I’m ready to get on with things.
After all the weight is lost, I’m going to look like a melted candle. I’m not thrilled about that. But, once things are nipped and tucked and returned to their normal place, I’ll be like my old self again. I’m happy about that. She was awesome. She’d hate what I did to her. I had to put her away long ago because she would not stop bitching about the road I’d taken her down. It was just easier to become…less. She was always too much. Too much hairspray, too much makeup, nails too long and mouth too big. She was the life of the party and he couldn’t handle her. So he made sure that she had a very hard time being who she was. Eventually, one has to let go and just resign to blend into the landscape if there is any peace to be had in situations like that. I’m not the first woman to bury her old self, and, sadly, I won’t be the last. Since he passed, I sometimes think that I hear her laughing. She won and she knows it. All the he took from her…everything he never wanted her to have…is hers. Only hers. And she’s ready to come out and play. Who am I to say she can’t? I’m just her keeper, and I’m ready to retire.