I cried in the doctor’s office – not sobs, but bouts of tears. All about the possibility of consequences from high sugar. All because of a label. I’d walked around this before – this not being fit and letting people down – and it seemed I’d dodged the bullet. But the thoughts about failing to do the wise and smart and responsible thing about my weight had triggered memories of other not so responsibly-acting times, other letdowns. I kind of pushed those other thoughts back into a locked place. Then, today, when he said he thought the bullet had hit after all, that news caused my feelings about all the past times to burst that locked door wide open.
Ironically, this bullet I can deal with. It’s the behavior choices of before that popped out and are standing their gound that have me feeling so guilty, which translates, I think, into so, so sorry for myself. The “Woe is me; why couldn’t I have been a better person?” annoying whining syndrome.
Now, I don’t want sympathy at all; it’s just right now I don’t want to have people actually, say, “Well, yes, you’ve got that right, AmeliaJake. Threw away your potential with laziness and an abrasive personality and just made your parents so sad.”
Der Bingle will make me face up to it and not use any platitudes. I think I need a couple of days, though, and that’s why I’m probably not going to the Ohio Redoubt this weekend; I’ll wait until Wednesday and drive out with him to Iowa for his nephew’s wedding. I should be ready then for the reminders that the hotel has a pool and exercise room; I can be braced for any objective and truthful remarks about my traits toward easy anger and grudge-holding and downright nastiness and trouble-making; I’ll be able to tolerate ‘water under the bridge’ and ‘no use crying over spilled milk’ remarks.
BUT RIGHT NOW I WANT TO WALLOW IN A MOST UNATTRACTIVE MUD HOLE OF SELF-PITY AND EMBARRASSMENT.
Oh, and the bit about slapping someone and them saying, “Thanks, I needed that” . . . well, wait a bit and maybe I’ll snap out of it.
God, these self-realization moments suck.