Recently, I posted on Facebook about an incident that I'm having trouble reconciling, mainly that of Mr. Murderer (that I've mentioned in this blog before). The question that I had asked was, if someone had a chance to get revenge on a person, would they do it. I really didn't mean for the post to get blown up the way that it did, but I just suddenly felt so freaking angry about the whole thing - it's like, why should I hide over this, I did nothing wrong and I'm not going to pretend that I did.
I've probably at the least lost a few so-called "friends" out of this, but in truth if I have, they're not friends of mine anyway, and never have been. More purging, as far as I'm concerned - let it come, if it's to be so.
Each day, I grow stronger, more confident, healthier in body and in mind.
I've lost 40 pounds since diagnosis - I'm down 4 sizes on top and 8 sizes on the bottom. None of my clothes fit any longer. I've had to buy new things, and even days later, they hang on me. It's like a magic wand was waved over my head, only that wand is called "diabetes". I wonder starkly if I haven't had issues all along with my endocrine system - ever since puberty struck, I've had nothing but difficulties with weight and menstrual cycles and everything else. (Shut up, whiners - it's a normal human function. Deal. We're all adults here.) If I had known, I would have pressed for a solution a long time ago, but... like everything else in my life, I kept quiet until it was nearly too late.
What amuses the fuck out of me is that people assume I'm brash and loud and irritating. Certainly, I can be. But people don't realize that I haven't nearly begun to speak up for myself, and it's starting to shock them when they see "the new me". I'm sick of sitting on the sidelines and letting people just steamroll over me - it's not going to happen anymore. Hasn't been, as a matter of fact.
One of the things that I'm beginning to discover is that I have a deep well of untapped anger at a lot of people, especially in my past, that I've not even begun to delve into just yet. For most of my life, I've been stuffing it down for fear that I wouldn't be "approved of". Sad thing is, 1. I haven't been approved of for most of my life anyway and 2. I've been actually seeking approval from people that I've recently discovered that I couldn't give two shits about. So... maybe it's time to change that.
If I can manage to get a little more serious about exercising (I still have trouble sometimes, mainly a lack of time), I'm going to perhaps try to get serious about running. I joke around a little about a marathon...but, shit, if I can get with it, why the fuck not? Why not? What's my reason not to?
If I can beat depression, control diabetes, survive abuse, earn a bachelor's degree, work full-time, all at once.... why CAN'T I run a marathon?
If anything, I can pound the pavement and get my anger out that way.
Anyway, that's another story for another day. I'm alive. I'm happy. Things are going well. 'nuff said.
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