Seriously, today is the first day I’ve even managed to put on a bra and not wear the same sweatpants and shirt from the past three days. The support group provides me a reason to leave the house since the bf seems perfectly comfortable working from home and not leaving for days.
It was a small group today, but always worthwhile and helpful. I even got some tea with one of the ladies and gave her a lift back to Santa Monica. During our car ride, she told me her story – how her boyfriend of 17 years left her when she got breast cancer, how he turned their son against her, cheated her out of all the money they ever earned together in their landscaping business, lost her home and got her possessions stolen by her landlord during treatment…
There are just no words to say to a story like that. I can not relate or grasp the magnitude of such loss. And yet, we still bonded over our mutual frustration at weight gain and loss of independence in being able to physically do the things we once did. I echoed the same sentiment I’ve been told many times. “It’ll take time but we’ll slowly lose the weight and get back in shape. We’ll get back to the things we used to do.” But we both chuckled once the words lazily rolled off my tongue. “At least that’s what they say,” I added.
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