I'm back!

It’s been a long time since I last wrote on my blog. I guess there are two obvious explanations, on my part, for me not posting anything: Either I make a lot of excuses (well, you probably didn’t miss my texts anyway, so that is rather unnecessary and pointless) or I can pick up posting texts as if nothing happened.

This is a rather transitory forum: There is a LOT of blogs on the net. Most of them has been shut down, abandoned or forgotten about. To many writing a blog, and keeping it up, is rather time-consuming. I would not feel guilty for just leaving this blog behind and never give it another thought. Or so I could probably fool myself into thinking.

Thing is; however bad or silly I might write; when days are busy and flustered with hardly time to inhale properly even once, I get this calm feeling when I let my fingers do the work as they run over the keyboard and type whatever ramble which should happen to run through my mind.

To write has become a valve through which I let me escape from being there for others all the time, and from my name being yelled.

My name is never just spoken as if in a conversation. It is yelled numerous times through the day in different tones of voices, for different reasons, in different degrees of patience...: Sometimes I hate my name. Not because I hate it per se, but most often it is not me, as a person, people call for: they call my name in order to get something from me. Things, money, help, food, attention… the list of reasons why people, very young and older, call my name is close to endless.

I didn’t stop writing all together for this period of time. I finished off the schoolyear reviewing end of term tests, grading exams, preparing for next year, and I just didn’t feel the computer was friendly to me. Strange as it is. My laptop became another demanding element, not human (or my dog, which really knows how to make demands), but nevertheless.

I turned to the old fashioned notebook, writing my thoughts down with a pen. The feeling of the pen running over the page, line by line, creating words in my own personal handwriting was wonderful. It was like finding a long lost friend. I savoured these handwritten pages, with their doodles in the margins, but after I had finished two notebooks, and started on my third, I looked at the notebooks and realized they would become dust collectors taking up space I don’t have. I have stacks of papers I am trying to deliberate myself from already, this was adding to the piles.

It is so much better so save my scribblings where they don't collect dust and only occupy insignificant quantity of space (that sounded very appropriate). So…: I’m back!

I gave my word... *sigh*

Being me is really ok most of the time, but there are times when I wish somebody would take charge, be firm and save me from myself and my own stupidity.

You might wonder what I did this time? On an impulse I did what I know I should never have done… not only that, but I have always known this would be a really stupid idea. And yet; I did it: I gave up what I love the most to eat: Chocolate! (I pointed out I can't give up both chocolate and ice-cream, but I did say I would not add any sprinkling or sauce.) Not only is this what I cherish the most as a treat; I am literally a chocoholic!!!

I have to be fair: It way my own impulse, my idea, that I actually made a deal with someone I would not eat any candy untill August, and he told me the same thing (... only he included soda as well, but I hardly ever drink that, so that will be his struggle). The reason why I committed this lunacy, was an act of sympathy to someone I don’t even know very well… or, I do know him fairly well, but not in person. To be honest I am not even sure he's got a real problem.

For my part it was the thought of a very nice dress I wanted to wear for Christmas, which didn’t look good on me. Next Christmas I want to fit into what I think is cool, rather than just wear what I find on a rack, which fits. And thinking about the amount of chocolate I eat; giving it up is bound to make a difference to my waistline.

I never really think about myself as too heavy, overweight, obese or any other of the fancy, fashionable expressions used to explain people with a little extra packaging. There is something indulgent implied in those expressions, like as if everybody suffering from weight issues does something fundamentally wrong with their lives.

Same thing goes if we look at the other end of the scale: underweight, skinny, lean… which really aren’t very positive either. I have to admit this problem is not something I can really relate to, but I have friends who feel themselves looked upon as sick just because there isn’t even a slight hint of love-handles or double chin. They will never be curvy or well turned, and to many that is just as problematic as carrying a bit extra. The comments they get are often taken in just as hurtful as the ones big people get.

I like words like chubby, voluptuous, stout… you know: words which give an indication that: “Yes, I have some excessive body mass, but I am still a nice person to be around.

I totally acknowledge the pros of being of manageable size, but I don’t like how those who try to improve their quality of living by joining in on physically active activities, are stared at and thought of as lazy, undisciplined and careless. The reasons to why and how they got the way they did, are as numerous as people suffering from it. Each has their own story… I have never come across anyone who chose to be of unwieldy or impractical size.

Impractical? Yes! There are challenges involved in being too big or too small… driving a car, buying clothes, passing bars at ticket controls, public transportation, eating out, going to a bar, going to a gym (Which I find really strange, cause after all the gym is what really should have been more accessible.)… you find obstacles everywhere, if you do not fit into what is considered a normal size

Situations very commonly avoided by people overly aware of their size are sexual intimacy, social activities, job interviews, new settings and places, and doctor’s appointments, pictures, mirrors and activities in which it can be hard to keep up with others like walks, bike-rides or situations involving bathing suits. It is rather sad, I think, cause these settings can really provide a better quality of life, on more levels than one. I think.

And when you do pick up the challenge and try to overcome the barriers you are hindered by… well, even to take a stand and stand up for yourself, regardless of this being to speak up or to do something to change, in any way, it is hard simply because when you make yourself a participant you also become more visible and you get more attention.

On the other hand: Appearance is very important in our culture. When a person is of socially accepted size, what is left to blame when things in life goes wrong?

It is a lot easier to not do anything, to put life on hold, and just wait for a better quality of life to set in, just like that, by itself.

I can’t say I am deprived of life to such an extent, I am actually quite happy with myself. Ones I made up my mind not to wait around for magic to happen and stopped wearing huge, dark blue tents, I even get compliments on occasions. (Ok, so people notice my eyes and think they are great, but a glimpse in your eyes is something worth being grateful for, right?)...

Right now I feel my biggest handicap is: I am true to my word. I am SUCH an IDIOT!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are chocolate chip cookies candy?