When Shopping Was Fun...

There was a time when all I wanted to do was shop.  I could be dropped in an unfamiliar city and sniff out a mall without batting an eye.  It was something I enjoyed, something I was good at.  There was nothing I could not find, not to mention on sale. I could remember what I paid for most of my belongings because the deal was so good, I just had to spread the news.

The day has finally come.  I believe I have moved past the fun.  Today was one of the most disheartening shopping experiences ever.  Thank goodness it was brief.  Shopping is now officially a chore.  While the idea of shopping can still put a glimmer in my eye, the reality is it is nothing but a depressing waltz through my physical faults in all their glory.

An example of how I see myself, then and now.
(I don't have any pictures of me to post so this is the
closest I could find).

I used to be thin.  In shape.  Over time I have waxed and waned with my weight but lately I swear it has become awful.   Today's example, CC and I went shopping.  Just to Kohl's.  I needed a couple pairs of casual slacks as I have to go on a business trip where "business casual" is the wardrobe.  I am all or none when it comes to apparel.  Suits or jeans.  So, I needed to run to the store.  While we were in the store CC said, "I think you have a tear in your pants". I was thinking it was the corners where the pockets always pull.  I turned to look in a mirror and sure enough there was a longitudinal tear right along the full length of a pocket.  Nice.  I have gotten to where I am busting out of pants.  It took everything I had to keep from crying today.  I know he hates it so I try not to.  It's hard sometimes. I get so disappointed in myself. 


I was finally feeling pretty good.  I know I need to lose weight but I have been feeling better about my security with how CC feels about me.  Feeling good about me.  This was nothing but a slap in the face.  Reality landed right on my broad butt.

We have a gym membership.  We have equipment here in the house.  It just seems that since CC's mother and my mother's illness, we have fallen off the wagon.  CC never knows when he is going to get off from work.  They just keep adding cases.  Many nights he doesn't get home until after 8 at night.  I have been trying to do better with portion control, snacking etc.  That doesn't make up for the lack of exercise. I guess I am going to have to go regardless of whether CC can go with me.  I hate to exercise alone but I need to do something.  I can't bear to look this way.  I have been tiny my entire life.  I don't know how to be heavy and okay with it.  I'm just disgusted.