It’s safe to come out of the woodwork again. The festive season of bullshit and fake is over. Call me cynical but as parents we lie to our children about Father Christmas, letting some fat man in a red suit take all the credit for a year’s worth of slaving away and crafty buying and hiding skills. We tell our children that he makes the trip in one night by the power of magic. The magic of Christmas…. Bollocks.
I haven’t told Kiddo he doesn’t exist, she is at that age now where her classmates are doing that for us. She wants to believe and I will not stop her from believing in something that brings her hope.
I don’t see why I should be the one to strip that from her, but I don’t believe some man in a red suit should take the credit for a year’s worth of grafting and saving. This year, I told Kiddo that the most expensive present she had was from Mami and Dadi, the cheaper smaller gifts were from Santa. Not that she was bothered, she hasn’t touched the DS she has begged for 6 months for.. Which I suppose is the equivalent to a baby playing with the wrapping paper and boxes of the gift actually bought for them.
So Christmas saw the usual over-indulgence and gorging on food and alcohol that I must say, even surpassed last years attempt. I drank a lot of Fake Bailey’s. I ate a lot of crap food. Weighed myself and nearly cried when I realised just how much I had let myself go.
So here comes the self-pitying bull. I am 23 stone. The heaviest I have ever been in my entire life. I am struggling with aspects of my life that I never had to before. Walking short distances leaves me both breathless and in agony. Standing for long periods of time hurt. Which isn’t good.
I went for a job interview before Christmas, it was the type of job that seemed too perfect. I didn’t get it, which has sent my mood into a bit of a dip. So, I am trying to claw my way out of a rather crappy situation.
So after I got the call from the agency to say I didn’t get the job, I phoned the gym referral people to get myself booked onto the exercise programme thing. Trying to be positive after a negative. Well, it would be if I could shake the negative thoughts that are now plaguing me. I haven’t harmed myself, other than the usual OSCP (Obsessive Compulsive Skin Picking) issues. I just can’t shake the compulsive negative thoughts. About the job, my weight, my attractiveness and my health.
I am just so confused.
Oh well, Shitmas is over, the New Year has started and I guess shit will change. It has to.