Caterwauling

No, I don’t mean I found myself. Christ, Goddess without an existential crisis would be like Santa without a hard-on for elves. Sheesh.

I mean, I wandered into a store today and HOLY SHIT it was Goddess, circa age 22. Pudgy, pretty, hair all done up and makeup was GORGEOUS and dressed cute.

She was bouncy, just like I was. Greeted me and started a conversation. The light in her eyes could have powered Palm Beach County for a year.

I got an instant headache. I mean, where the hell did my sparkle go? Did she get it from me? GIVE IT BACK YOU HAPPY PLUS-SIZE LOVELY GIRL YOU.

I’m always happier when I’m trying to lose weight because there’s some element of being in control of ONE aspect of my life. But … I feel like I was happier when I just didn’t give a shit.

It was when I started noticing my size that it all went to pot. When I dared to think I was FABULOUS, fuck everyone else’s perception, I would actually be just fine.

And even now, I DO think I’m fabulous. I think most people want to be me. I am confident that people would kill to spend a day being me. It would floor me if they didn’t.

But then I was having a sad moment today and I thought, what if they really are sad for me? Or worse, what if they don’t feel bad for me at all but instead they think I am a piteous mess?

It was the fact that I couldn’t argue with the “piteous mess” part — i.e., well, aren’t I? — that killed me inside today.

I say this after I bought yet another party dress for a party that never seems to materialize.

This whole “living as if” shit that Law of Attraction disciples preach kills me. Clear out your closets for when your imaginary significant other materializes and moves in with you. Buy the size you want to be. Make a vision board of what you want your life to look like.

Dress and furnish and dream for the job/man/life you want.

HUMBUG.

Another party dress, another year gone by with nowhere to wear it.

And yes it’s in my current size. I aspire to have a reason to party this year, thanks.

I do have a party to attend tonight (not quite so formal as to suit this dress), but as always Prunella the Houseguest managed to make me feel like shit for having plans. She tells me I’m a martyr when I say fine, I’ll cancel like I always do. (Because I always do and it’s never because I don’t want to go.)

Prunella and Wal-Mart should not be kept apart if it’s one of the rare moments she’s feeling good enough to run errands.

Boundaries, can has?

Tell me how to live “as if” I were alive, and maybe you’ll meet the truly fabulous Young Goddess who really was something special.

I wish you’d all gotten to know her. Maybe you will someday. Maybe I just have to go suck that beautiful soul out of that lovely girl I met today and I’ll get her back …

When you try to throw yourself in front of an oncoming shopping-mall train, you know it’s Christmas. And you’re at a mall. And you’re depressed.

My life isn’t bad. It’s just a colossal disappointment compared to what I had dreamed it would be.

I’m tired of saying, “At least it isn’t worse.” Nay, I want to say, “It’s so good, it couldn’t possibly get any better.”

I found myself starting the downward spiral in my meeting this morning. Which, weight loss yay but I haven’t parked my pudgy butt on a scale since before Thanksgiving, so hell yeah I should have had a nice loss.

I was bummed though because somebody’s been baking all week here. And somebody’s been consuming it without concern. And said someone who can’t stop eating could have had not only a nicer loss but also could have hit her 10% goal. But lo, brownies prevailed.

My leader always says try not to binge-eat because it’s a holiDAY. It’s not holiWEEK or holiMONTH. You’ll live to see another holiday. It’s OK. Put the pie down, Tubbo Wubbo.

OK so I paraphrased. 😉

What I wanted to say but didn’t, was that you spend the whole year being good. And come Christmas, you loosen up your death grip on your cash and go to places like malls that you avoid the other 11 months of the year.

You see people and go places and eat things that don’t cross your path normally. You see LIMITED EDITION everything and, lo, you must eat ALL THE LIMITED EDITION THINGS.

Because, you’ve been good all year. You deserve it. And no, Meeting Leader, you might not see your next holiday. Well, you personally probably will, but for the rest of us in a multiyear crisis of faith it’s hard to think past the next credit card billing cycle, for various reasons.

I’ve got my mind on my money and my money on my mind. That, and my freedom. Which, again, I have to be happy for what I have, right?

So maybe I want to enjoy these days. And all the sights and sounds and tastes they offer. Because if we’re sentenced to a lifetime of avoiding the little things that make us happy, especially in absence of bigger things to make us happy, well who the hell wants to live THAT life, anyway?