Here We Go Again

Friday 27th March, 2020

12:20 PM
I am sat here in my front garden. I can't go out because I'm expecting a delivery of my tablets, and if I go out into the back I won't hear the front door. I need some fresh air!
I can be quite a paranoid person and am so afraid someone will tell me off, so I have measured the distance from myself to the path where people pass by, and it is more than 2 meters. So I should be okay :-)
I really do enjoy writing once I start, but do find it hard to begin, and I worry what people will think about it. It shouldn't matter, I am doing it for myself, but it still does bother me. How many of us really worry about what other people think?
Whether it is what we look like, how we talk, or the way we behave. I was in an abusive marriage for 22 years, and when I finally brought it to an end, some people publicly criticized me for what I had done to my husband. This is because of what he had told them, but they hadn't asked me my side of the story. Perhaps they didn't think they had to, and I did decide at this point I wasn't going to tell them. Thinking about it now, this was probably through embarrassment,  but what it all boils down to is that people should not judge or feel that they have a right to comment on something that has nothing to do with them.
This has happened to me all my life, and, I am sure, it has happened to many of you. It makes the situation we are in so much harder to cope with.
I was a fat child (I hate the word 'fat'), a fat teenager, and I had not had a lot of guidance about growing up and my behaviour sometimes reflected that.
I married a man who is Indian, and some did not like that or the fact I have two beautiful children, the different clothes I'd wear, the way I would talk differently, my marriage breakdown - the list goes on.
Don't get me wrong, not everyone is like that. In my life I have met some truly wonderful people but it only takes one or two to behave in a negative way towards you and all those insecurities come back.
When I lost weight five years ago I thought I had cracked it. This time it was going to be different. What I didn't know then is - it wasn't.
Putting the weight back on again, or to be accurate, realising I'd started putting it back on (no, the jeans hadn't shrunk in the wash) made me feel like a failure and very disappointed in myself. I had done it differently this time, or so I thought, and still let both myself and my family down. As well as this, all the people around me had seen me lose it and put it back on. What were they thinking about me?
This all made me feel very down and no matter how hard I tried to be the same old Jackie, inside I was crumbling. Also, what started about this time, was terrible pain in my hip, back and knee, so I was now in a lot of physical pain alongside the mental agony of failure.
I would have to take it as it was and try to get help with the suffering that I had just added to the struggle. 
And so the next four years started, but more of that next time.