Grrr.
This happened over the weekend, but I'm still seething over it, and frustrated with dealing with this person in general.
As pretty much everyone who knows me knows, I'm certainly not a stick figure. In fact, I've been battling weight issues pretty much since I started at WPI. I've lost weight, just to gain it back. Lately, some pretty serious health-related wake-up calls have come to me, like blood tests showing that my glucose levels are pre-diabetic (diabetes runs in my family), being diagnosed with PCOS, etc., so I've made a conscious decision to eat better and get more exercise. I have no illusions of ever being super-skinny, but back to my pre-college weight is my long-term goal.
Jeff and I have been packing healthy lunches, cooking healthy dinners and trying to take brisk walks for 25-30 mins a day. I know that's not a huge amount of exercise, but it's helping us to ease into a more rigorous exercise routine (for me, eventually being able to jog comfortably and ride my bike to and from work 2-3 times a week, 4 miles each way; for Jeff, playing Ultimate 1-2 times a week from April till October). The fact that I've been able to stick with the healthy meals (for the most part) and exercising (I've only missed one day) for longer than 2 days is an achievement for me, since my past has been littered with too many failed diet and exercise routines to count. I think it helps that I've been thinking of this as a "lifestyle change" (thanks for the terminology, Jennie), rather than a diet.
I woke up early on Saturday morning, and after an hour or so of lying about in bed, with nothing to do and nowhere to go for a few hours (my car was blocked in the driveway by Mark), I actually went for a brisk 1.5 mile walk alone. First day I'd gone to exercise by myself, motivated by the prospect of being healthy. And I felt great about it afterwards!
Now, the anger. Fast foward about a half hour after I got back, and Mark woke up. I was still feeling pretty good after exercising and eating a nice, healthy breakfast, and I told him I'd gotten up early and gone for a 1.5 mile walk. His response? A very sarcastic "One and a half miles... whoooo" with the sarcastic hand and finger wiggle.
What. The. Fuck. This is the last straw. I swear, between all the passive-aggressive crap he's pulled in the past, all the snotty remarks any time I open my mouth to say anything, the fact that he refuses to admit anything's wrong when I ask him why he doesn't call me when all of our friends are hanging out together, since I am always the last to know if something's going on, suddenly never wanting to hang out with me anymore, this is NOT what I signed up for when I moved in with him. For someone who was one of my best friends, I don't even want to talk to him anymore. I'm plain sick of the shitty way he's been treating me. If he's mad at me about something, I'd greatly prefer if he'd tell me, rather telling me "nothing's different, nothing's wrong" when I ask directly, and acting like an asshole the rest of the time.
I noticed something else this weekend too. Mark goes back to acting like his old, nice, friendly self to me when he's had a few to drink. Friday night, after 4 beers, he's asking me if I'm interested in a job at Empirix (where he and Mike work), laughing, being fun, etc., just like old times. Then Saturday morning... he's back to being a grumpy jerk. But ONLY TO ME! He's perfectly pleasant to everyone else in our group of friends. I'm ready to give up though, since asking flat-out what's wrong gets me nowhere. Screw this noise, I don't need friends who belittle and frustrate me. I'm just really hurt that someone who was supposed to be one of my best friends is acting this crappy to me. :(
As pretty much everyone who knows me knows, I'm certainly not a stick figure. In fact, I've been battling weight issues pretty much since I started at WPI. I've lost weight, just to gain it back. Lately, some pretty serious health-related wake-up calls have come to me, like blood tests showing that my glucose levels are pre-diabetic (diabetes runs in my family), being diagnosed with PCOS, etc., so I've made a conscious decision to eat better and get more exercise. I have no illusions of ever being super-skinny, but back to my pre-college weight is my long-term goal.
Jeff and I have been packing healthy lunches, cooking healthy dinners and trying to take brisk walks for 25-30 mins a day. I know that's not a huge amount of exercise, but it's helping us to ease into a more rigorous exercise routine (for me, eventually being able to jog comfortably and ride my bike to and from work 2-3 times a week, 4 miles each way; for Jeff, playing Ultimate 1-2 times a week from April till October). The fact that I've been able to stick with the healthy meals (for the most part) and exercising (I've only missed one day) for longer than 2 days is an achievement for me, since my past has been littered with too many failed diet and exercise routines to count. I think it helps that I've been thinking of this as a "lifestyle change" (thanks for the terminology, Jennie), rather than a diet.
I woke up early on Saturday morning, and after an hour or so of lying about in bed, with nothing to do and nowhere to go for a few hours (my car was blocked in the driveway by Mark), I actually went for a brisk 1.5 mile walk alone. First day I'd gone to exercise by myself, motivated by the prospect of being healthy. And I felt great about it afterwards!
Now, the anger. Fast foward about a half hour after I got back, and Mark woke up. I was still feeling pretty good after exercising and eating a nice, healthy breakfast, and I told him I'd gotten up early and gone for a 1.5 mile walk. His response? A very sarcastic "One and a half miles... whoooo" with the sarcastic hand and finger wiggle.
What. The. Fuck. This is the last straw. I swear, between all the passive-aggressive crap he's pulled in the past, all the snotty remarks any time I open my mouth to say anything, the fact that he refuses to admit anything's wrong when I ask him why he doesn't call me when all of our friends are hanging out together, since I am always the last to know if something's going on, suddenly never wanting to hang out with me anymore, this is NOT what I signed up for when I moved in with him. For someone who was one of my best friends, I don't even want to talk to him anymore. I'm plain sick of the shitty way he's been treating me. If he's mad at me about something, I'd greatly prefer if he'd tell me, rather telling me "nothing's different, nothing's wrong" when I ask directly, and acting like an asshole the rest of the time.
I noticed something else this weekend too. Mark goes back to acting like his old, nice, friendly self to me when he's had a few to drink. Friday night, after 4 beers, he's asking me if I'm interested in a job at Empirix (where he and Mike work), laughing, being fun, etc., just like old times. Then Saturday morning... he's back to being a grumpy jerk. But ONLY TO ME! He's perfectly pleasant to everyone else in our group of friends. I'm ready to give up though, since asking flat-out what's wrong gets me nowhere. Screw this noise, I don't need friends who belittle and frustrate me. I'm just really hurt that someone who was supposed to be one of my best friends is acting this crappy to me. :(