The struggle, the anguish

I started going to a personal trainer yesterday.  Half an hour upper body work out.  I am not sore today, but I can feel my muscles.  Since my experience with the clinical weight loss problem, I have been a hot mess.  After being hospitalized with diverticulosis and having another bout of it in the summer, and just generally feeling tired and apathetic and lazy.  I am disgusted with myself.

My mom lived with me over the summer for three months, while she waited for her house to close.  It was a challenge.  And I am suffering from the repercussions.  We had several arguments, one that preceded the first hospital visit.  My I make a suggestion?  No you may not.  Well I am going to anyway.

If I asked for time to myself she would criticize me, and shame me.

My fiance said she was pretty hard on me.

People always tell me I am just like my mom.

But people really don’t like my mom.

So I said to my fiance the other day.  If people don’t like my mom, and I am just like her, then people must not like me.

This is the circle of my mental thoughts and self esteem.  I have withdrawn from hanging out with others for this very reason.

I need to get back to walking and yoga and meditation, but all I can do is withdraw into my Ipad and watch movies and read.  No desire to paint, and after my class in SUNY Oswego last year, I realized I am a shit painter anyway.  It did not fulfill my needs.  And I am hostile and angry and not painting, why waste time and space and money on something that is just going to continue to collect dust.

I am really struggling.

I keep praying for guidance, but it seems like when I do this something terrible happens.  I have stopped praying.

I am a mess.  A fat. Unloved. Mess.

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