This post is coming from….

Blue October mixed with Megaton’s blog, an hour phone call with my mom, a dr.’s visit and wanting to call DD.

Honestly…I haven’t been as honest here as I thought I would be. I tend to curb things so people won’t feel sorry for me. DD use to say that when I complained it was to make people feel sorry for me so now I complain in a chatty, funny kind of way.

Now why do I want to call him? This is still a mystery. Almost a decade of him. I know it doesn’t end over night but what he did to me should have ended when he walked out the door.

I also can’t say that I didn’t damage him as well. I also didn’t know what I was dealing with…maybe he didn’t either.

Which brings me to Megaton’s blog…John Candy….or Chris Farley…or John Belushi. Really funny fat men. I don’t know if anyone out there has a concept of what it’s like to grow up fat. I do. It makes you funny. It forms a personality that is different from most. Not that I know any of these men nor do I know their background or their mental state of mind when they died.

I can tell you one thing…being fat for most of a persons life gives some people the ability to make jokes about themselves before anyone else can. It’s very dehumanizing but it makes people like you…they laugh and you make them happy even though they are laughing behind your back. I’m speaking from experience.

I am still the funny fat girl in a thinner image.

When DD left me for someone else 6 years ago…I realized I had a problem with food and sugar. Yes I took him back…get over it.

I also realized that I packed on the pounds to keep him away from me. I wanted to make myself so disgusting that he wouldn’t come near me…I didn’t know that I was doing it. My mental mind fuck…I should have just walked away but fat hides the true being…the hurt and pain….I kept telling myself…just leave.

I can make every excuse in the world why I couldn’t…mental abuse, physical abuse, where do I go, what about the dogs, what about him…

The reason we stayed together for so long and still talk is because we are both fucked up in our own ways…and we understand each others fucked up shit.

And as much as I wanted to call him tonight I didn’t. I guess I was in the mood for some abuse...or a fight. Honestly, people can tell me forever how they feel about my relationship with him but they can’t crawl in my brain and know what I feel or how I think and what actually went on between us

Three sides to every story…his side...mine…and the truth…I look at him and see an amazing person…that he has yet to find.

Enough about that bastard…or not…

At the doctors office today…as I was waiting for her to come into the room I was thinking how I got there. Was it the years of head banging…heh….or was it DD shoving me so hard that I flew and hit head and back to concrete…or the time he head butted me. Maybe it was with my ex-ex and the car wreck we got in.

Now I’m not feeling sorry for myself by any means…but doc said after 3 months of my thumb not moving the way it should there is a good chance that it never will. Nerve damage…WOO HOO let’s break out the champagne.

I can barely write…much less hold charcoal…I have to learn to write and draw all over again. It was fucking hard enough the first time…but at least I still have my right hand.

I guess my point is…I’m incredibly fucked up in so many ways. No ones choice but mine.

Did my father fuck me up…yup…did Joe killing himself fuck me up…definitely
What about the one father figure I did have...one bullet to his temple…again suicide…John. When my grandparents died…I wanted to bury myself with them.

Life and death…growth and perspective…it’s pretty fucking hard.

I think I have figured it out though.

Even the worst of the worst is still better than six feet under.

We all have one shot in this world and even that’s a crap shoot.

No comments on this post please…I’m just venting.