All posts for the month August, 2016

Ups and Downs

Published August 26, 2016 by dividinguplife

This week has been rather crappy. I’ve been in a shit mood, most likely from work being so stressful this week. It’s at the point that every time I go above and beyond my normal duties (which is quite often), the only thing I think about is the fact that I was denied a raise after a year and a half and told it would be reviewed again at the end of the year, as long as the company isn’t “flat-lined” in what we are making. It really pisses me off that I get the praise and recognition for how hard I work, I’m told about how much the patients love me, how calming I am for them … and then I’m told that because we are making exactly the same as we were last year, I can’t have a raise yet. But my work load has increased double what it was last year. It really, really pisses me off. I’ve put in a couple of resume’s, though I’m not actively looking because I feel like I would be abandoning my job and my responsibilities to a place I have been at for over four years. But if something that pays more comes along, I guess it’s something I will have to consider. 

As far as my weight? It’s been on a yo-yo for the past two weeks. At one point I was down to 268.8 … then I went to 272. This morning I was 270.6 which brings my total weight loss to 28.4 pounds in 9 weeks. That in and of itself is aggravating, but I also know I have done some emotional eating these past couple of weeks.I can’t expect to lose weight if I’m putting shit in my mouth, even if I’m not going over my calorie intake for the day. My goal is to be at 268 by September 19th, and then 264 by October 19th. I think it’s reasonable, but I won’t reach it if I keep up with this. So, that has been aggravating me. 

Hopefully next week will be better. 

Ramblings of my Mind

Published August 22, 2016 by dividinguplife

Tonight is the first night since May that it has been somewhat cooler with less humidity in the air. Something other than that stifling, can’t breathe humidity that we have here. Tonight I went to sit in the sun room to smoke a cigarette and a feeling of melancholy rushed over me when I felt the cooler temperatures. I think there are so many bad things in my past that happened when the season was cooler (whether it was spring or fall), that whenever I feel that particular coolness or crispness, it sends waves of sadness over my soul. 

It was November three years ago when my (now) husband moved back to his home state ten hours away to be with his kids again. I remember sitting outside on my balcony and crying into the cold wind. The three months leading to his moving away (he told me in August he was leaving and I begged him to at least stay with me until the day he moved) the days were filled with cool nights and barely hot days. I watched the leaves change colors, and with it my heart broke into pieces, turned to ashes, and blew away in the October wind. We lived together, we did things together, but he stopped telling me he loved me. I went out on dates and he knew about it and didn’t care. I stayed away overnight with friends and it didn’t phase him. I cried and pleaded for him to love me, and he told me he couldn’t. He shut himself off, shut himself down, and looked at me like he didn’t know me. He turned himself off so that I would move on. He did it to keep his sanity. Men seem to have that capability. Me? I don’t know how to do anything else except love people and show it. I wear my heart on my proverbial sleeve. I always have. I always will. 

The year and a half he was gone, I remember the cold days the most. I remember the loneliness that seeped into my pores. I remember falling asleep at night feeling so cold and empty inside. I cried so much I couldn’t breathe. I missed him so much it was a physical pain. I cried for a year and a half, though it did lessen throughout the months. I missed him every single day, though. That’s how I knew he was the one. That’s how I knew that I had to let him go. I let him go, and I moved forward, and he moved on with his life. We text each other every so often to see how the other was doing. Twice I flew up there to spend time with him and his kids. Each time I came back home I felt empty inside. He came down here twice to visit his family. Each time we were drawn to each other like magnets. Like nothing had ever happened. We carried on like he’d never left. The spring of 2015 he came down with the kids for a week and stayed at his brothers house. I stayed four nights out of the seven … but I was over there every day except for one. On his last day there, I held it together and had finally accepted that we were just not meant to be together right now. I would see him whenever I could, I would maintain our friendship. I could do this. I could figure out how to have some semblance of happiness without him. I wanted him to be happy above all. 

The day he left to drive back home, ten hours away, he called me before he even got out of the state. He told me he had talked to his kids, that they loved it down here more than they loved being in their home state. They were okay with him living here, and us seeing them eight weeks of summer, a week in the spring, a week in the winter, and us going up there to see them in between. They loved me and wanted their dad to marry me. My husband added the days he had his kids (every other weekend) and added how much he’d have them if he lived here. There was only a few days difference. He told me he was dying inside up there. He hated it there. He missed me and he loved me and he didn’t want to do this anymore without me by his side. 

It was never a question of if he could come back. It was understood. I would have taken him back into my life under any circumstance. Maybe I was supposed to play hard to get, but that isn’t my style. I wanted him back. I wanted to marry him. I wanted him to know that with me, he had a home. 

He was married for seven years to a woman that didn’t appreciate him. One day while he was at work, she packed her things, their children, and she moved out of their house and then sent him a text message telling him she was leaving him and she was taking the kids with her. So now, whenever she get’s bitchy and blames him for “abandoning his kids” because he moved here, I told him to tell her every single time that she was the one who started this shit by leaving him and taking their children with her. She has no one to blame but herself. He deserves happiness too, and he got out of that shit-stick dead-end town. But she always tries to give him hell for moving so far away. His children have told us both multiple times that they wish they could live with us, that they hate it up there. When they are old enough to decide in a court of law, that’s just what we will do. 

I went through so much hell and so much heartache over this man. I let him go, I grieved, and I dreamt of a day when my own daughter was 18 so I could pack my things and move up there to be with him. I kept living my life while thinking about him so much it consumed me. But I let him be and I let him figure things out on his own. And now I have him, and now we’re married, and now my life makes sense. 

My grandma died six years ago on a cool October night. I remember being able to see my breath in the air as I sat outside and waited for the funeral home to arrive to take her body away. I remember going into the bedroom and staring at this soulless body of a woman I hardly recognized without the light in her eyes. In seeing her gone, it was then that I truly understood that this body is just a temporary home. I had seen her four hours before she died, standing at her bedside and holding her hand. I asked her if she was going to see Jesus. She looked at me and told me it wouldn’t be long. I told her that it was okay, that she could go, that we would be fine. She nodded her head and turned to look at whatever it was that I couldn’t see. I went home for a few hours to get some sleep. At 1:52 in the morning I woke up out of sleep because my heart was beating so fast that it was in my ears. I briefly wondered if I was having some kind of heart attack, and then the feeling subsided and I knew immediately that my grandma had passed through to tell me goodbye. As soon as my heart rate went back to normal, my phone rang, and my mom told me she was gone. I told her that I knew. I got into my car and drove back the hour and ten minutes to my mom’s house. The hospice nurse and I went into her bedroom and I said my goodbye’s to her. I sat outside and I didn’t cry. I smiled softly knowing that she was no longer in pain, she was no longer half-paralyzed. There would be no more drinking in her life. She was free of all restrictions that her body put on her. She was whole and new and with her family that had passed before her. I was happy for her. 

And a week later, as I was sleeping, I had a dream that we were in my old neighborhood, near the mailboxes. My grandma came walking out of the woods wearing the same kind of clothes that she always wore (jeans, black shoes, and a button down fleece man shirt), and I walked up to her and hugged her and said “Are you okay?” and she said “Okay? Hell yeah. I’m better than okay.” And that was it. That was the last dream I had of her. I’d be willing to bet a years salary that it was her way of coming back to me and telling me that she was just fine. I will never forget that for as long as I live. I could feel her arms around me. I could hear her voice as if it were right there. It was the most beautiful moment in my life. I got to tell her goodbye one last time, and she got to reassure me that she was fine. I got to hug my grandma after she left this world. One day I will see her again. 

I was raised Christian, but I decided last year that I can’t conform to just one religion. I don’t think there is just one religion that gets you to heaven. I believe that as long as you love God, you do good things, and you are selfless in life, that your ticket to heaven is given to you. As a Christian, I was raised to believe that the only way to heaven is through the salvation of Jesus. I think that’s one way to heaven, but I don’t think God would punish those that were raised to believe differently (like Muslims or Jews) …. I think we all have an opportunity to have a place in heaven. No matter what color or sexuality you are – if you are pure at heart, you have nothing to worry about. Anyone who asks me what I am now, I just tell them I’m a Theist. It’s what I am. It’s what I believe. I’m happier for it, too. 

Summertime Sadness

Published August 20, 2016 by dividinguplife

This week hasn’t been my best as far as calorie counting. I’ve lost a pound, but I know I could have done much better. I ate quite a few times when I really didn’t need too. I stayed within my calorie intake allowed, except for last night when husband and I went to eat dinner. Sadly, I went over my calories by 200, and I know I’m going to pay for that on the scale next week. 

There’s the goal I want to make by February and there’s a more realistic goal I have set for myself. My goal weight for February is 247, according to my calendar. That’s 52 pounds in eight months, which is completely doable. In my head, I’d love to be down to 198 by February 19th. That is way out of my reach, but I have to set different goals for myself. It’s just how I am. So, right now, based on my calendar, I have four weeks to lose two more pounds. I know I can do that easily. Then my Sept-Oct month goal is to lose another 6 pounds. 

The last few weeks I haven’t seen so much drop in the scales, but I have seen my body shape change. 


The one thing that is aggravating are my back rolls. Over the past five or so weeks, I’ve taken pictures to see if they are going away. I haven’t been able to tell very much. Very subtle differences. 


It makes me sad to think that when I’m walking around naked, that is what my husband has to see. I’m just so tired of looking this way. 

The biggest change I think I have noticed is my face. 


I’m thankful that it’s starting to lose some of it’s weight, because I’m one of those people that puts on major weight in my face. I have a heart-shaped face anyway, and I hate that about myself. 

In the morning I’m scheduled for a Swedish massage. It’s my reward to myself for my first step in weight loss. And in that respect, I have come a long way. I didn’t have my first massage until I was thirty (last year), because I lived with the thought that I was too fat to have one. Ten years ago, when I was with The Abuser, I asked him to rub my back one night. He told me he’d rub my back when I weighed what I was supposed to weigh. It was from that point on that I adapted the idea that anyone who rubbed my back would be disgusted and wouldn’t want to do it. It wasn’t until Country Guy (which was the guy I dated while my husband ((before we were married)) was living in his home state for a year and half) would give me regular back massages and repeatedly tell me that I was beautiful. When I found out my husband was coming back, I had already discovered Country Guy and his online flirtations and porn issues. Breaking up with him hurt, because it hurt him … but I knew that I was sick and tired of being someone’s second best. I couldn’t compete with the porn and his online addictions of gaming. But anyway, he did believe that I was beautiful, and it slowly did away with some of the years of abuse I endured. There are still so many days that I look in the mirror and hate who I am. 

And I really do hope that one day I do get down to the weight I want to be, so that I can maybe one day run into him (I’m still friends with his family, so I could make that happen easily), and he could see what he mistreated and what he cheated on and left. He and I were together three years and he beat me, cheated on me, and left me. He was with his wife for less than two years and he married her. Believe me when I say that their marriage has been anything but happy over the past six years. They have split up more times than I can count. Each time they do, I’m the first person he calls to talk to about it. Then they get back together and I won’t hear from him again until the next time. He blocks me on Facebook (per her request I would imagine), and that’s that. Why would I talk to someone that beat the hell out of me and verbally abused me worse than anyone ever has? Because at one time I loved him. Because I forgave him a long time ago so that I could learn to start healing myself. Because three years ago he sent me a long message full of apologies about how he treated me and how I deserved someone so much better. Because I’m an adult and I choose too. Last Thanksgiving was the most recent time he and his wife split up. That was immediately followed with a message to me about him looking for a house for us to move into together. It wasn’t a question of whether or not I wanted to be with him again. It wasn’t a question of if I was with anyone. He just assumed, like he always has, that I would come running back to him. 

I told him that his separation didn’t change the fact that I was getting married in March. He seemed genuinely confused as to why I wouldn’t just call off my marriage to a man I fought so hard to get back into my life. Because to The Abuser, there is no one more important than him. Back when he cheated and left, as soon as I started dating someone else and he found out, he called me and told me that he was irreplaceable. He couldn’t believe that I would move on. A few months after that he told me I could come back whenever I wanted, to just say the word, and he’d throw the girlfriend (now wife) out of the house. You can see how fast I went running back. 

I hope everyone enjoys their weekend!

Work and Diet – Adulting Sucks

Published August 11, 2016 by dividinguplife

This week has been havoc on me. Today I nearly had a meltdown at work. I came in and my desk looked like it threw up all of the paper in the world. 


I knew my day was going to be shit after seeing this first thing in the morning. I love my boss, I really do …. but my job duties are so much more than what I make an hour. Don’t get me wrong, I make more money than I ever have, but I also work harder than I ever have. I’ve been there four years, which is longer than any of the other girls have been there. We have watched four or five people come and go and I’m the original remaining one. I’m an Ophthalmic Technician, Surgical Coordinator, when insurance comes back from office visits or exams, or they want to deny surgeries, I write the appeals, I check into why insurance didn’t pay, I call them and fight like hell to get payments. I do prescription refills, testing with our equipment, schedule appointments when needed …. I know that office inside out. And to be told after a year and a half that I have to wait another six months to possibly get a raise? I am just  …. So. Damn. Tired. I’m exhausted. 

Today we started clinic, and then all of a sudden I have last minute surgery things I have to do, phone calls to make, checking in with retina doctors, calling patients to make sure they don’t want a certain lens for their surgery, meanwhile I’m also fighting insurance for an approval for a new patient, I’m also typing an appeal to blue cross for a denied portion of insurance. My boss is talking to me in my ear like it’s all funny and haha … and I just had to put my head in my hands and really wonder why I am still there. I love my job, I love my patients, and I like how long I’ve stayed … but something has to give. I’m hardly ever allowed to use my vacation time. If you’re sick, you are made to feel guilty about it. I’ve gone into work with the flu and 103 degree fever because they told me it wasn’t fair to the other technician. I just … I don’t know.

Anyway, I weighed in this morning for the week. I’m only down 2 pounds, but I will take it. 


Starting Weight: 298 on June 19th
Current Weight 271
Goal Weight: 198


Beginning, middle, and this morning. 


Published August 7, 2016 by dividinguplife

Friday night the husband and I had our monthly date night. We try to do that once a month just to take some time for us, and do something together that we enjoy. We went to dinner at Chili’s and then went to see Suicide Squad. I had already planned on Friday being my cheat day, and I blew my calories by 310. Last night I got back on track and was 800 under. 

We also got a full-blood Maine Coon on Friday afternoon. A friend of mine had him years ago, her dog was allergic, and so she gave him to her husbands friend. The friend ended up moving out of state and abandoning the cat a year ago. Animal Control found him and picked him up the other day. Because he’s microchipped, they were able to call my friend to let her know they had him. She picked him up and brought him to me. I’m just in love with him. So now we have three cats and a dog. I think that’s good enough.


This is Lewie the Cat and my husband 🙂 

I heard this song today while at the mall. I’m not one for trendy music. I love off-kilter stuff that other people don’t listen to. I guess this would be considered Indietronic or something. 

After we got home from the mall, I fell asleep from 7:30 to 12:30. So, here it is, 2:30 in the morning and I’m wide awake. Husband went to bed around 1 and when I told him I wasn’t going to bed yet he had sad face and said it sucked going to bed alone. I told him I understood because I go to bed alone every night since he stays up later than me. But it made me sad to think that he was sad at the prospect of going to bed alone, that I went upstairs and laid on the bed for a while with him. I love that man so stupid damn much. The shit we have been through to be together … there are still times that I marvel at the fact that I got him back. 

It was nearly three years ago that he told me he was moving back to his home state because he couldn’t stand to be away from his kids. I was devastated. I felt like someone had died. In a sense, I did die. Emotionally. I was a shell of myself for a year and a half. I cried all of the time, I fell asleep depressed, I drove to work depressed and in tears most mornings. There would be nights he would text me at some ungodly hours just saying that he missed me, and it stabbed me right through the chest. He started drinking up there when he didn’t have his kids. Eventually he realized that him seeing them every other weekend (and he had to work on one of those days) was no better than him living here with me and us getting them in the summer, and on their breaks throughout the school year. When he came back, it was like I could breathe again. When we got married in March, I just sat here and wondered what I have ever done so right in life to finally get something that I wanted. 

My husband isn’t a very touchy kind of man. We don’t cuddle, we have our own comforters on the bed. We don’t hold hands very often. He says my hands are like inferno’s. They are. I’m so hot-natured. I’m the opposite – I love cuddling and touching. But, I realized after he left three years ago, that I would gladly trade all of those things just to be with him again. And I did. And I haven’t regretted it one bit. I love him so much that the thought of losing him again leaves me breathless. Having known him for almost 20 years, I really don’t know why I didn’t see him sooner “like that” …. other than the fact that I was all goo-goo eyed for his brother. 

I’m anxious to weigh myself, but I’m really trying to hold off and stop this daily weigh obsession. I put on a pair of jeans for the first time in a month, yesterday … and they were loose. It made me happy to notice that difference, since I can’t really see it when I look at myself.