Saturday, June 7, 2014

S is for Sedentary

I am sedentary. That is the best word to describe me at this point in my life. I had made a commitment to go to the gym this morning at TEN and could not get out of bed. I bailed on a six a.m. spinning class, too. I'm afraid my friend will give up on me. She has every right to.

At work, the guy who shares my office gets too hot, plus he is a talkative guy and has figured out that I am not his best audience, so he takes his laptop downstairs most days. I take this opportunity to lie on the floor. I'm that sedentary. That lazy. I can't even sit at my desk sometimes.
Tomorrow, my therapist will text me a confirmation: "I'm confirming your 6:30 appointment tomorrow. See you then!" I don't know what to say. "Okay." "Yep." Or, "No, I've decided you are right; we need to see other people."

I'm currently blaming my sedentary state on the lack of trust and stability in my therapeutic relationship. I will have to come up with some other excuse once this is straightened out, but it works for now. Excluding the fifteen minutes spent letting my dogs out several times today, I have spent the entire day either in bed or on the couch. I'm on the couch now, trying to work up the energy to get up, let the dogs out for the last time, and then go up to bed. I've been trying to work this energy up for about 84 minutes now. It's not happening.
I am fatter than I have ever been. Right after the divorce (and also in dental school), I dropped 23 pounds and was too skinny for a long time. I've regained all of those pounds, and they all brought friends, and now I can barely fit into any of my clothes. I'm enormous. I'm gross. I feel disgusting. But I'm typing this while lying on the couch, where I have been all day, and, chance are, will be all day tomorrow, too. I suck.


  1. Hi there,
    I too was married to a narcissist for over 37 years. He cheated on me, lied to me, took most of my inheritance, and wanted to leave me with nothing. He also was a pastor, go figure.
    I had planned to go to Zumba this morning, mow the yard, pay bills, work on the book I am writing. Here I sit at 11:30 in my PJ's. I guess I was lucky to get out of bed. I am making myself go out tonight. That is the only way I survive, forcing myself out.
    Wish we lived closer we could get together and share stories. Hang in there,

    1. Kathy, I hate it when people understand, because understanding means you, too, lived through hell. Nobody should understand us.

      What you wrote is exactly what I do - make good, solid, productive plans...and then sit in pajamas all day. I set three alarms this morning and got up three hours late. Not unusual. If it weren't for my dogs, I would never get out of bed again. Ever.

      Congratulations on getting up, no matter how late it is. That's huge. I'm glad you have plans to go out tonight. I do, too, even though I'm thinking of ways to cancel so I can just go home and lay on my couch with my dogs and do nothing. Just like I have done the past four nights.

      We both need to go out. Have as much fun as possible, and know that your good deed for the day has been done. It was hell this morning until I saw someone had commented and I read that someone understands. Thank you.


Don't make me talk to myself, yo.

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