It is a superstar red letter FANTASTIC kind of day. There is little short of genuine tragedy that can take away the joy and sense of satisfaction I feel.
However, that does not mean people do not try their hardest to make it happen. One of my friends that I have known since preschool sent me this text after my blogpost about being drug free:
It is good you are off the medications, but 12 lbs. in 9 months is not much to crow about. Doctor and dietician are not doing you a favor by ignoring it.
Despite my very best intentions not to engage her on these types of provocative (read: negative and mean-spirited) statements, I could not let it pass. I will spare all of your the level of bitch-slapping and summarize by saying our exchange was heated, frustrating, and culminated in my saying we needed to take a friendship break. There were a few more unhelpful texts, at which time I told her I had to block her number for now.
I feel immature and not sure of how to conduct a fair fight. I perceive her “helpful” comments and advice as if she is speaking to a 5 year old incapable of safely managing her own life. My stuff, my issue, and my solution, and I refuse to feel like a bad friend or a failure on the good person scale. I own my responsibility for this outcome, yet I also know it has been a long time coming; I had just hoped to avoid it somehow.
Rationally, realistically if there was any hope of altering her very dangerous perspective I might have called her out on this snarky, unsupportive, completely mean and meaningless comment in a different way. But there is no hope, and I should have just ignored it. Right or wrong I stood up for myself, and the ugliness of a mud-slinging argument ensued and resulted in a lifelong friend being blocked on my telephone.
Over weight. Over extremely happy news. Over a skewed sense of body image (hers) and a healthy respect for my own limitations (mine).
I cannot use traditional measures of progress because it defeats my efforts. I do not want to become someone who obsesses over scales, tape measures, and calorie counting, because no good will come from it. I have proven this to myself repeatedly through the years, and my present method of going forward without specific goals and operating on blind faith is working out for me. In 9 months I have gone from injecting insulin and popping all sorts of pills to control diabetes to no medication, eating a balanced diet, and exercising consistently every single day. I think that makes me obsessive enough about what I deem important.
I am never going to be some super skinny woman; I simply do not have the bone structure for it and I cannot diet myself out of my gene pool. What I am in the present is happier, healthier, and in a better, more confident frame of mind. There is still work to do in this area, and I would be the first one to admit it. But from being the pretty happy person I was I am evolving into a woman who is far happier, more secure, more trusting of my own judgment and instinct, which unfortunately includes exorcising some consistently negative influences that encourage, embrace, and support the negative girl that lives in my head.
There are ways to disagree with someone’s view, to try to persuade them to pursue another course of action, and to be constructive in your comments. This comment above does not fall into either of those camps, and I think her type of bias is nails on a chalkboard type crazy making for me. I cannot express how strongly I disagree with her views, and for so long I have thought it was okay to agree to disagree by changing the subject or being mild in my own replies. Only now her negative expressions of her opinions land in my head like a lead balloon and make me feel really badly about my efforts to pursue objectives that offer direct benefits for me. As I have told her repeatedly, you are entitled to your opinions, but it becomes a real problem for me when it is phrased and presented in such a hurtful, harmful way.
Unfortunately through our long history I have been too passive and accepting of the tonality of her words and allowed her to dump on me. I accept that I am the one changing our relationship roles, in that I am no longer willing to lie in the road while she runs me over repeatedly to make herself feel better. It’s sad, letting go of a long friendship, but I know having me as a constructive, supportive, encouraging friend would be so much better than having a me as a landfill to dump your garbage feelings.
The oddest part of this is the dichotomy of friends I have from then – childhood, high school, even early college – and friends since then. For a few of my earliest and oldest friendships, there is a sense of entitlement that they can dump on me and I am either going roll with the punches or react very mildly. Unfortunately, I now see those long friendships changing and perhaps even ending, because I am not the girl they knew. Nope, she’s pretty much falling away now. New friends – from about 30 onward – do not really know that part of me. Those friendships that have survived that long see me as a supportive, no bullshit sort of person.
M is very proud of me for finally standing up, pushing back, taking action. It is a painful lesson, yet necessary. I have had my own battles with controlling behaviors and this has been a long time coming. I just wish it had not had to be on my happiest day of 2016 thus far.
Sorry for the Debbie Downer vent here; our happy-happy-joy-joy programming will now resume.