Sherms In The Middle

I'm pretty sure that i'm going to hear some complaining from my wonderful husband about my not going to the gym with him tonight. It will, in all probabilty, lead to an argument as it usually does. And though I will protest about being tired and not having had time to myself all week to relax. Add to that the fact that each week is a new mountain load of work for university, he will still complain that I haven't gone it two weeks. Therefore, I've only been gaining weight, not loosing weight. Do I want to be healthy? Yes. I've had the conversation with myself countless times, I don't want to end up with "the sugar" and have to depend on medication. I don't want to be so overweight that I can't one day have children or be able to play with my children. I want to be able to wear nice clothes and actually feel attractive. Feel like my husband wants to touch me, not has to touch me. And he might think that I don't know it, but I know he looks back on pictures of me a few years ago when I was slimmer and wonders "what happened!??!". So do I. Life happened. As it is now, when I'm going to school full time and working full time and taking care of our domestics full time. And the fact that he's not working right now, the knowledge that everything is on me. What I put in decides whether we sink or swim. And right now I feel like the waves are coming hard and fast and I just keep swallowing the water. I forget that this started out with the whole gym thing and I'm taking it in the poverty and despair direction...I guess because those two things make up the bulk of my life these days.
I wonder sometimes, if I could talk to my 18 year old self, what would I say to me?
My life now isn't like I thought it would be, in fact it is so far from what I thought it would be, other than being married to Adam I suppose. I spend time looking at photos and reading old journal entries and I feel so far from that person, though it was only 6 years ago. Sometimes, I'm actually disgusted with that person. Ashamed to have been her, to have thought the way she did and done the things she done. I think thats maybe because I'm a different person now. I don't love the way she did, openly and without question. But that is what life does to you, it makes you harder. It treats you like a piece of dough, being kneaded and tossed around until you eventually realise you've been ruined. That, not only are you know longer that person, but you don't want to be. Who wants to me someone who's always hurt? Always being overlooked and badly treated. Nobody. Not I. Only, I am. And boy do I hate that I am. That I let the people that I love most and who should love me most, treat me bad. Make me feel worthless.
For as long as I remember I always felt like I wasn't loved by my mother the same way my sister was (I touched on that in a previous entry), and I always felt that I was put down whilst she was praised. And I got to this stage where I retreated inside myself. I spent a lot of time reading and writing and ultimately imaging. I'd hope and wish that one day I could meet someone who would truly see me for the person and I am and who would love me like nobody ever had. We would be the great love story that movies were made of. I think movies seriously screwed up romance and relationships, it gives us the wrong impression of what love looks like. It took me awhile to realise that I truly loved Adam, and that was years after we first met and had said I love you countless times. I really understood what it meant to love someone after his brother died, being with him and witnessing his pain. Wanting to take it away, wanting never to have him be in pain ever again. That was when I realised, that I truly love Adam. The until death do us part kinda love, which is still much harder than just saying the words cause sometimes, my husband can me mean! Of course our definitions of mean differ greatly. He doesn't seem to get that he is, for me, the person to turn to. The only person I have to turn to because I don't open up and trust that many people. I'm super private, except, I guess here.

Oh my bootie hurts from sitting on this chair for too long. I shall try and post again tomorrow at some point. I havent read though this and I'm sure it does make much sense, but getting out of me and on to the screen is the most important thing. Doesn't matter what it reads like.