She Said, I Said, I Thought

She said: You know what to do, you just don’t do it.
I said: I know.
She said: I don’t mean to pick on you, but…
I said: No, I know. I get it, it’s fine.
She said: You’re always looking for loopholes. Why?
I said nothing.
She said: Why is most of your energy going toward not getting better, and a small percentage going toward telling everyone you’re going to get better, but never following through?
I said nothing, but started to cry, which I abhorred, for I felt weak.
She said: Don’t you want to have integrity? Don’t you want to be healthy and happy and have an equal relationship with your husband? Aren’t you tired of being a child?
I said: Yes, yes, yes, I am.
She said: Then do something about it. I realize these feelings of inadequacy are deeply ingrained in you, but it’s time to change.
I said nothing. But I felt small.

I’ve said nothing, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.

I’ve thought: I need to get better. I need to gain weight. It’s time to take this seriously.
I’ve thought: Maybe I should check into a hospital for a week or two - max - and get a jumpstart on weight gain.
I’ve thought: I want to prove everybody wrong. Everybody who shook their heads sadly and told me I couldn’t do it. Everybody who said I was a lifer, and couldn’t change.
I’ve thought: I want to be around for my baby. I want to watch the child grow into a man, shaped by his mother’s love and steadfastness in what is right and true. And this isn’t true. Not what I’m doing. This is selfish and shallow and needless.
I’ve thought: It’s time to change. For good this time.