A Bad Marriage Is Fattening
Can a bad marriage really be fattening? Yes it can! In my own bad marriage I went from 125 pounds to 275 pounds 20 years later. This is the story of how my unhappy marriage made me fat — and how I divorced my husband and moved on to a happier new life.

Back To Reality: Type 2 Diabetes

My sister-in-law said to me on the phone the other day in her kindest and most diplomatic way, “It would be nice for your readers if you balanced your entries with a touch of reality.”

That was her way of saying, “I didn’t think the blog about your secret lover Sammy-the-Refrigerator was funny.”

“And Joan,” she said in her kindest and most diplomatic way, “I didn’t find the name Sammy to be sexy.  To me Sammy is not a sexy name.”

“It was supposed to be funny,” I said.

“Yes, I understand what you were trying to do, but I still think you could have given the refrigerator a sexier name.”

I couldn’t help thinking to myself, “Well, what did you want me to call him, George Clooney?”

But here’s what you have to understand, as much as I love my sister-in-law, we both have a very different sense of humor.

Still, I respect what my sister-in-law says.

“Why don’t you talk about your diabetes?”  My sister-in-law suggested in her kindest and most diplomatic way.  “Tell your readership what gaining all that weight did to you health wise?”

Exactly how real did my sister-in-law want me to get?  Because there’s reality — and then there’s reality!

I’ll start first with the reality of my weigh-in yesterday.  I weighed 230 pounds.  I’m 2-pounds down from my weigh-in last week.  The reality is that I’m happy with that reality.  This is not the TV show The Biggest Loser.  I’m not looking to bring in big numbers on the scale each week.  A steady weight loss of 1 to 2 pounds a week would simply delight me — and keeping it off would delight me even more.  In all I’ve lost 12-pounds since I’ve started doing this blog January 1st.

Since we’re so much into reality today, and since my sister-in-law suggested in her kindest and most diplomatic way that I talk about my diabetes I will do that.  (I expect to get a call from my sister-in-law after this blog is posted telling me that she enjoyed my return to reality.)

Diabetes runs in my family on my maternal side.  My maternal great grandmother died of Type 1 diabetes while she was still young.  My grandmother was eleven years old when her mother died.

My maternal grandmother who was fat got Type 1 diabetes in her early thirties.  She took insulin shots, lost her weight, and was stringent about being accountable for keeping her weight down and blood sugar where it was supposed to be.  She lived until she was eighty-five years of age, but only because she monitored her diabetes so well.

My mother who was slim and athletic all of her life, (she swam 5 days a week in an indoor pool until she was eighty-three and took long walks everyday), got Type 1 diabetes at the age of eighty-three.  She was able to stave off getting diabetes earlier in life, because of her physically active lifestyle and being slim.  After she got diabetes she monitored her blood sugar very carefully to make sure it was where it was supposed to be, and was very conscious of her diet.  She ate the right foods in the right portion size.  My mother lived to the age of eighty-seven.  She did not die from diabetes.

Which brings my family history of diabetes on my maternal side to me.

It started in 1997 with an unquenchable thirst.  I could not drink enough water to quench my thirst.  It was like I had been stranded in a parched desert.  No matter how much water I drank I was still thirsty.  I also was urinating constantly.

So I said to Paul, (you all know who Paul is, my ex husband who is a medical doctor), “Paul, I have this unquenchable thirst.”

“So drink water,” Paul said.

“I am drinking water, but I can’t seem to quench this thirst.  And I’m urinating a lot.”

“Well, what do you expect when you’re drinking all that water.  Of course you’re going to piss it all out.”

Dear reader, I know this is a horribly dark thought, but I think Paul secretly wanted me to die.

If I died of diabetes Paul would be rid of me.  (“Oh, my God, my wife died of diabetes!” Paul, the grieving widower would lament, while secretly rejoicing that he didn’t have to pay me alimony and he’d get sole custody of our son.)

In the back of my mind I can hear Paul say, “Are you crazy, Joanie?  Why would I want you dead?  You’re the mother of my child.”

“You tell me, Paul?  Why didn’t you recognize the most obvious signs of diabetes?  You’re a doctor, you would know.”

“I can’t remember why?  It was thirteen years ago.  How am I supposed to remember something that happened in 1997?”

“Because I remember.”

“Well, you remember everything, Joanie, you have the memory of an elephant.”

“I remember when I was standing at the top of the stairs in our home in Calabasas, and you were behind me.  You said laughingly like you were joking, ‘I could push you down the stairs now and kill you and no one would ever know what happened.  They would think that it was an accident.’”

“I said that?  I never said that to you.”

“Oh, yes you did.  And I turned and looked at you and said, ‘Do you hate me that much, Paul, that you want me dead?’  I’ll never forget the look in your eyes, I was staring right into them, and you said, ‘Yes, Joanie, I hate you that much.’”

“You’re making this all up.  I never wished you dead and I would never say that to you.”

“Well, I didn’t have a tape recorder on me to record your words, but it was recorded in my mind.”

Paul remains silent for a very long time.  Finally he says, “Do you really think I would say such a thing to you?”

“I don’t think it, Paul, I know it.  I was there.”

You want reality, dear reader, you got it.

There are many reasons why I want to lose my weight.  The most important one is my diabetes.  If I don’t take accountability for my weight loss I am facing serious complications.

10 Responses to “Back To Reality: Type 2 Diabetes”

  1. It sounds like you have a lot of inspiration! Keep up the great positive vibes.

  2. It’s very important to have a balanced diet with diabetes. I think it’s great you chose to write about this. I’ll be sure to keep reading! – Michael

  3. Oh my goodness.. Paul deserves a rabid badger down his pants! That is a SICK man! I was excited to come home and see what/if you had written in the last two days 🙂
    Keep up your motivation and hard work doll! You are worth it!! 😀

  4. Way to go on your 2 lb weight loss. If you are going to sustainably keep off weight, a goal of around 2 lbs is realistic and healthy. I love to watch Biggest Loser, but let’s face it, they work out ALL DAY/NIGHT long.

  5. Fodder for future postings:

    First of all, I am glad you are NOT with Paul anymore. I would have been scared to death if someone would have said those words to me.

    How did your marriage get to such a high level of hate. In the beginning there must have been some spark. I want to know more about the beginning. In retrospect, did you see the early symptoms of “a bad marriage” and do you think they could have been treated or prevented?

    XO’s- your loyal reader- autonomous blogger

    • I have every intention of writing about the beginning of my relationship with Paul. You ask how the relationship got to such a high level of hate. In a nutshell, this is what happens when a man marries a woman that he doesn’t love. Paul never loved me, but he married me, and you will understand why he married me as the story unfolds, (and no I was not pregnant). Because Paul never loved me, he took his frustrations out on me in the marriage. You ask in retrospect did I see the symptoms of “a bad marriage” and could it have been treated? In hindsight, there were many, many red flags that I ignored. And no, I do not think, in fact I know that my bad marriage could not have been treated because it was doomed from the start. Paul simply never loved me, there was nothing to treat. Could my bad marriage have been prevented you ask? Yes, by Paul not marrying me. In order for a marriage to work, it seems so obvious, but both partners have to love one another. I loved Paul, but Paul didn’t love me. You cannot force a man to love you. He either loves you or he doesn’t, it’s that simple. And if he doesn’t love you and you marry him, then you will pay the price. That’s the lesson I learned in my own bad marriage. I want to thank you for being such a loyal reader.

  6. AND…I think your mother sounds amazing.

  7. Wow- thank your for the replies! Keep writing!

  8. Your stories terrify me, because I am living that life right now, but your strength in the aftermath/rebirth is inspiring. You have a staunch supporter and a faithful reader in me, and I will continue to read and build the belief that I deserve true happiness.

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