Epic worrying coming to a Dani near you

My friend Jason is going back to Iraq in August.

The last time he was there I scoured the Associated Press photos every day, hoping he’d be that soldier taking a break sitting on the tank or whatever the guy in the photo was doing, hoping he wasn’t the guy under fire. Whenever there was a story on the Ohio wire about a soldier being injured, or worse, I felt sick to my stomach and held my breath until I saw the name.

I worried worried worried until he came home. I caught the tail end of a clip on the news at dinner one night, and I thought I saw him. I rushed back to work to ask a coworker to find the clip so I could use his earphones to listen, and … I may have sat in the newsroom and cried a little when I saw him.

I told Jason  most of this when we had lunch Wednesday and he was amused. Probably thought I was exaggerating. I can assure you, I am not. I also made him take a picture with me at lunch:

Last time, I didn’t write nearly as often as I should have, and I still feel horribly guilty about it. This time though, I will write, and I will send packages when I can afford it, and this photo will sit on my desk to remind me to be a better friend.

The truth about my weight loss

It’s been a year, give or take, since I started losing weight. I was going to write this post at -40 pounds, but life got in the way. Then I thought I’d wait until -50 pounds, but since we’re at the one-year mark, I’m writing it at -47 pounds.

Below we have me with Jen Lancaster (whose book “Such a Pretty Fat” helped get me motivated to get off my fat ass) in May 2008 and me yesterday at my parents’ house.

I’m not going to lie, it’s been difficult. Very difficult. I’ve fallen off the exercise wagon a few times (quite recently, actually, but I’ve hopped back on), fallen off the healthy food wagon … but nobody’s perfect. I eventually get pissed at myself for being lazy and get back into the swing of things.

Just about everyone I know has been extremely supportive, and even people I only know through the interwebs have been supportive, which has really helped me keep at it. Especially during those times when I get so frustrated because WHY DID MY BOOBS ABANDON SHIP SO QUICKLY AND MY ASS AND THIGHS WON’T GO AWAY?

What’s been really interesting though is trying to make people understand WHY I’m losing weight. Co-workers, friends, even family had their … theories. Incorrect theories. Hurtful, are-you-kidding-me, have-you-ever-fucking-MET-me? theories.

The real reason?

For starters, my back hurt all the time. I couldn’t stand the heat because I overheated way too easily. I got winded very fast playing with the dog. Even the thought of taking a walk made me tired.

And then there was trying to find clothes. I can’t even begin to guess how many times I sat in a dressing room (or on a bench in the middle of a mall) and bawled my eyes out because I couldn’t find an outfit or even a new shirt for some event. And I couldn’t just walk into any store at the mall to look for said non-existent outfit. Most stores’ sizes didn’t go high enough.

Have you ever curled up on the bench in a Wal-Mart dressing room and cried because you couldn’t find a dress, or even slacks and a blouse, that were even the tiniest bit flattering? Like I said, I have. And I got tired of it.

I got tired of all of it. The back pain, not being able to play with the dog for very long, the special clothing stores, the MISERY.

Is that so hard to understand? I don’t think so. But I’m pretty sure there are still people who don’t believe my reasons, and you know what? Fuck ‘em.

I bruise easily

I went to the wedding of a co-worker Saturday night. I don’t dance. Two of my other co-workers decided I needed to get out on the dance floor and physically dragged me from the table. I tried to resist, but they’re much bigger than me, so I lost. Somewhere along the way I hit something (a chair maybe) and ended up with this beauty. *sigh*