I always join gyms and when I join I always want to cry about how much I suck at life and weight. The emotions are right on the surface when it comes to my weight, my pant size, my flabby gut. But even I didn't realize how close to the surface these emotions were or how little it would take to get me to full-blown-meltdown-stage.
Most people that join gyms know that when you join, there is always some sales guy asking you to buy a personal training package and they always give you a free session. But, did you guys know there is a form you have to fill out and that if you fill out the form honestly and then turn it in that someone else knows all your secrets about your pant size and your flabby gut? I mean, I know that human beings have eyes and that they can use them to actually see it for themselves, but if you write all that stuff down, there it is on paper and it's, like, a fact. In fact, it's a shameful fact that now many people's eyes can see. It's like documentation of sucking at everything about yourself.
So, the really nice guy at the gym very nonchalantly gives me this form and says, "Ok, fill out the front of this form while I grab another paper real quick. I'll be right back." Seriously. He said that. Like, here's this form. Write down your dark secrets and then I'll come read all about it while you watch in horror. I mean, by the end of this story, he totally got what he deserved.
So, he said that and this is what happened. I read about two lines before I lost my shit and my forehead hit the table in front of me and I started Phase 1 of a Three Part Hissy Fit. I started crying, very silently and not too noticeably, but the dead give away was my head on the table when he came back. He walks up to me at a normal pace and I can see his shoes as my eyes are looking down and darting around and trying to stop the flow of tears dripping directly down from my open eyeball and onto the floor. And his shoes start to slow down and he says in a very concerned voice, "Uh....um....what..um...what happened?", he said.
"Well, this form is asking me to write down my weight and my age and all that and then it talks about measurements and I AM NOT DOING MEASUREMENTS AND NO ONE ELSE IS DOING MEASUREMENTS FOR ME AND I HATE MYSELF AND I SUCK AT EVERYTHING AND I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW MY PERCENTAGE OF BODY FAT OR MY LEAN MUSCLE MASS AND I AM NOT...DO NOT...EVEN THINK...THINK THAT YOU ARE COMING AT ME WITH SOME KIND OF MEASURING TAPE THING OR ONE OF THOSE BODY FAT ANALYSIS THINGS THAT YOU HOLD OUT IN FRONT OF YOU. NO. I AM NOT DOING THAT AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME. I AM NOT. DOING. IT."
So, the guy looks at me very kindly and says that I do not have to do the measurements and I do not have to weigh myself and that in fact, we are not even going to work out today because I obviously need to talk instead. And then he took so much time with me and let me laugh and cry and be sarcastic and even let me use lots of cuss words without being offended. He asked me about my diet and my level of commitment, at which point, I said, "I am not going to tell you how many Krispy Kreme donuts I ate yesterday, but it was eight and don't ask me about anything else." He could obviously tell how committed I am to being unhealthy by the sheer number of calories I had inhaled in that given twenty-four hour period. But the most amazing part of this meeting was the little nugget he planted that helped me to understand why I am so emotional. it was very simple. I am in a bad relationship.
On my drive home, it hit me all at once. I have been in a bad relationship for a long time with someone who loves me because they can get me to do whatever they want me to do as long as it satisfies them in the moment. I love her and she loves me. In fact, we met in middle school and have been best friends ever since. We have had some great times together. We live for the moment. We think only of now. We get what we want and nothing will stop us. My best friend is a lot of fun to be with, but she is also a manipulative and abusive bitch. Pretty much every day, she tells me I am stupid and ugly and fat and worthless. She only seems to be happy when I comfort her with food and television and wine. Honestly. You want to know just how bad she is? Her common suggestions as how to spend out free time include eating fast food and hiding the wrappers, eating pints of Ben and Jerry's, gorging ourself on bread and sweets, and she has even suggested eating an entire jar of Nutella. I mean, I love all these things, too, and I like spending time with her because it is just so comforting.
It had to be done and on that drive home. I broke up with that crazy bitch once and for all. I told her I loved her and I thought she was mostly great, but that she and I have to go our separate ways. Boy, she was really sad. She kept begging me to change my mind. And I finally had to break it down for her. I wasn't trying to hurt her feelings, but she clearly wasn't aware of how I felt. I had no choice but to tell her. So I did. I told her that she says mean things to me. She treats me like shit. She is selfish. She is a bully. She never thinks about the long-term. She is only interested in getting whatever she wants as quickly as possible. All of her ideas are bad and horrible and she is a total bitch. She doesn't care how it affects me. She doesn't care if I want to do something besides what she wants to do. She is stubborn and as long as I do what makes her happy, she is just fine. But, those days of me allowing her to dictate my life are over and are officially breaking up.
By the end of the conversation she decided to leave. She just slowly walked out the door and looked back at me all teary-eyed and sad. It was awful. I haven't heard from her since. It has been about four days. So, I went back to the gym and told the nice guy that I had kicked that girl out and he is so insightful. He said, "You may have kicked her out, but she still has her stuff at your house." And see? That is exactly what is happening. She did, indeed, leave all her shit at my apartment and I know I will have to see her again so I can give her all of her shit back. I am so not looking forward to this meeting. She has a lot of stuff here. Like, TWENTY YEARS of accumulated crap. It's going to take her a while to get it all out and every time I see her, I just know she is going to beg me to let her stay. Ugh. I hate arguing with her because I love her and I don't want to hurt her, but she just isn't good for me and I have bigger and better things to do in my life than sit around and stagnate with her.
This is the absolute worst breakup I have ever been through.
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