Unexplained Weight Loss

I tightened my drawstring twice today. So I hopped on the scale just to prove that the slip knot keeps slipping or the drawstrings are just stretching out. Except I did notice my hips are swaying when I walk instead of waddling. I lost another 4 pounds, in 3 days.

I'm hardly skinny. I still have plenty of weight to spare. I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I know how hard it is to lose weight. Which is why losing weight when I'm not trying to is just creepy.

It isn't so much that I'm a hypochondriac and assume that I have some horrible terminal disease that is causing me to lose weight. However, cancer does run rampant in my family. Neither of my parents made it out of their 50's. I live on pain killers for chronic pain and sometimes I wonder just how much additional pain these may be masking that would otherwise clue me in that other things are wrong.

Sometimes, I do just shed weight, though it is rare. I always gain weight after relationships end and then magically the weight disappears when I'm ready to start dating again. But I've been an emotional basket case these past few weeks. It just makes no sense that my body could be trying to tell me it's time to get back out there.

But the really pathetic thing is that I'm not sure which scenario rattles me more, some unknown disease or dating.

Better to Have Loved and Lost

I can't remember the name of the movie or show that I had seen but one friend had tried consoling a grieving friend with the words "it is better to have lost and loved then never to have loved at all." The friend quipped "You should try it". Maybe its one of those the grass is greener on the other side of the fence thing. To live your entire life without having had experienced that one deep special love of your life. To have never found your soulmate. On the flip side, to have belonged to someone. To have found your epic love, and then lost them. To have to spend the rest of your life knowing what you are living without. Which scenario sucks worse really?

I guess I can't really decide which would be worst. I'm on the side of the fence with the rest of the people who remain unloved. That's a serious headtrip during my depressive lows. I'm unlovable. I try to bury it but I guess I am a romantic at heart. I believe that everyone has a soulmate in the world, somewhere. I'm realistic enough to realize that not everyone finds theirs. Or is the real question about being loved in return? Unrequited love is an entirely different situation all together.

The Love/Hate Experience

I love to read. Reading provides a means of escape. I can absorb someone else's story. Lose myself in the character's lives. Forget about my own situation and problems. It is less destructive than drugs or alcohol, but still a means of escape. It's much more affordable too.

I have a love/hate attitude towards romances. Romances require some conflict that keep the lovers apart. I'm not talking about the stupid plots where the conflict is based upon one person getting jealous because their mate talked to a member of the opposite sex and therefore must be cheating. Where one feels deceived because their new love hasn't divulged information about every single aspect of their past. Or even where one person keeps themselves at a disctance, vowing never to let anyone close to them again because they've been hurt once before. Once. Before. Try a lifetime of painful relationships. Where even a trusted family member has betrayed and taken advantange of your trust. A life of so much deception and betrayal that you don't even trust God to not let you down anymore. No, those type of plots are just unimaginative and worthy of my disdain.

Where I'm At

So I've stated that I'm writing this because of friends who nag me that I need to share my story. I'm not sure why. Personally I do not find it such an interesting story. Sure, I may have information to share but it isn't very relevant information for most people. I have often been told that I should write about my life, but I've found that I have lost my inability to find the humor in my life any more. Any time I try to write about my situation it comes out sounding depressing and whiny. I will try to imagine Joe Friday standing over my shoulder saying "just the fact ma'am" and try to keep some of my darker moodswings from showing through.

So what is this situation? *deep breath* This is my third winter without heat. It is true that it is amazing what a person can get used to. My situation didn't develop from just an inability to pay my utilities bill. It is hard to decide where to begin sharing my stoy as there have been many years of stupidity, gullibility, and questionable choices. I suppose that this leg of my story begins around 2001 when I bought my house.

My home used to be two apartments. The neighborhood was rezoned to contain only one family dwellings. The previous owner was in the process of tuning the house back into a single family dweling when his wife became ill and he decided that the house had become an albatross and he was better off selling it than trying to fix it up to code to rent it out.

My home had two gas meters and two electric meters. I received three separate bills from DTE. That math isn't hard to do is it? Four meters, three bills. Two gas bills and one electric bill. I called DTE as soon as I realized this error. Not only am I basically an honest person, but I just don't have the luck for this to not come back and bite me in the butt somehow.

I called DTE monthly, always getting a different customer service representative. I also always got different answers. They varied from "we'll look into it", to "our records show that you only have one electric meter at your address", to one arrogant male who told me "You are most likely being billed correctly but, like most women, you don't know how to read your bill". With every call I made sure to request an employee number so that I could fill out the survey to give them kudos for their excellent assistance. Yes, that was hard to say without laughing.

Kindle Test

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