I haven't read that book yet. I haven't read blogs. I just tweeted for the first time in 25 days. I gained five pounds. I'm fighting with my boyfriend.
The fight is small. He's just cranky and unclear and wants to blame everything on my stupidity today. I don't want to be around him, so he's off at the concert series mingling with crazies while I sit in front of a computer somewhere near-by. The sucky part is that I'll probably be here for hours.
I used to be smart. I still am, somewhere in there - but something about my beau makes me feel like a baby. It's not that he's controlling, exactly. Just that he takes over things I'm supposed to be doing if he doesn't feel they're being done quickly or efficiently enough, and is critical if it's something he can't do himself. He makes me feel incompetent.
He does the same thing to his mother, actually. And she, like myself, seems to have become dependent on his dictation and lost some confidence and problem-solving ability.
Honestly it's easier just to rely on his work than to deal with the criticism he gives if you don't understand it right away or god forbid, do something he wouldn't have chosen to do.
What's more, he apologizes only once he can tell I'm upset, then continues the argument ten minutes later. I just wish stupid arguments would die because I don't like being told I'm a moron - he doesn't use such words, but the battering of WRONG WRONG WRONG starts to sound like essentially the same thing.
I really do fear this from him. I feel so helpless. What's more, whenever I say something he thinks is smart, he says I should post to t his website he likes which is full of idealistic douchebags who want to invent artificial intelligence and talk about whatever the hell they're talking about. By the way, he's obsessed with this website. They're the only people he respects. And I think if the guy who started the site wanted to keep my boyfriend forever, he would willingly abandon me. Maybe I'm looking forward to that happening, so I can have my independence back.
Well, that or be completely crippled emotionally and curl up into the fetal position on the floor and die, which is more or less what I anticipate would happen if I had to go back to my life being as cold and empty as it was before I had him.
You know, he gets the same criticism from his mother and best friend, you'd think he'd admit maybe there's something wrong with him rather than everyone he makes cry.
I know that's all vague and crappy, but you understand why I do that, right?
...On an unrelated note, regarding my weight gain
I absolutely must return to calorie counting. It kept me sane. It helped me be completely aware of what I was eating. It helped me stop.
In theory some of the weight might be bloat, some might be muscle... but not enough can be easily dismissed. I disregard numbers I don't like as being flukes too much, they rarely are.
I've let myself go. But yeah, if the scale is right, I've gained 14 lbs since last summer. I have time, I hope I can drop ten before school starts again.
What's wrong with me? I'm so frustrated