I read a couple of enlightening books this weekend. One that I finished (on my Kindle. love my Kindle) is Jennette Fulda's Chocolate & Vicodin (she's The Pasta Queen who also wrote Half-Assed, her memoir about losing over 200 pounds, which I also have read). The other book is Jessica Berger Gross's enLIGHTened. I still have about a third of her book left to finish.
I loved Jennette's memoir about her chronic headache. I like the way she writes--it's an easy, fun read. Which is to say, she makes her misery entertaining. That sounds horrible, and I don't mean it the way it comes across. I was more fascinated by the idea of not being able to get rid of pain, no matter what the doctors--both traditional and non-traditional--did for her. I am not a chronic pain sufferer, but I still enjoyed her book and got a lot out of it. Pick it up if you can. You'll not regret it.
What most has stuck with me-- when her headache starts to get better, she is scared that if her life is crap because of her headache, what happens if the headache goes away (or at least is manageable) and her life is still crap?
This speaks to my post a few weeks ago "do you want to be healed?" I'm still working though that one. If I were healed, and I didn't need food for my crutch anymore, could I handle it? When I think about getting my sugar/flour/fat foods taken away from me, it's scary.
So, why is it scary? Jessica's book talks about how she filled her loneliness and sadness with food. The way she writes about how she copes with her estranged relationship with her dad and mom really struck home with me.
It got me thinking about why I sabotage myself with food. I started paying attention to how I felt this weekend BEFORE I put the junk in my mouth. Before the kids even went to bed Saturday night, I wanted cereal. I was feeling lonely, and they were still with me. But Mark wasn't feeling well and I knew that as soon as they were in bed, I'd be alone.
Most nights, when my eating blows up, it's because I'm by myself in the family room/kitchen. Alone. I am by nature about half and half introverted/extroverted. I like being alone. At least that's what I tell myself, when I'm sitting watching TV or reading and feeding my face at the same time. Alone. Obviously there's something else going on.
I already know that I'm soothing myself, and pushing down feelings. I haven't wanted to examine what those feelings are, though, because then I have to deal with them. And dealing with them--and fixing them--means I will have to give up my food routines of soothing myself.
I don't know if I'm ready for that.
So. I've got work to do. My therapist mentioned in our first appointment several weeks ago Geneen Roth's books. I had one of her paperbacks decades ago, I think it was When Food Is Love, but it's long gone. I got a couple books of hers on my Kindle last night; and I ordered her workbook in paperback.
I meet with my therapist again on Thursday. I didn't get to see her last week, and I should have. I need to see her weekly, still. I had a hard weekend.
Today, I got up and went to the gym and took 30 minutes of Zumba (missed the first 15 minutes) and a 60 minute Group Active class (20 minutes step, 20 minutes light upper body work, 10 minutes balance & core, 5 minutes stretching). Zumba was a hoot. I can't dance, but it didn't matter. I've at least got the booty for it! I did sweat, and I'm sure that once my core is stronger I'll sweat even more in that class.
I broke down and went back to the diet doctor and got a refill on my Adipex meds. Just one month's worth. I don't really think they work after a few weeks. It's a jump start on the food front, to take the crazy food thoughts away for a while, so maybe I can think straight about why I have crazy food thoughts in the first place. And how I can get them down to a manageable level.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Sidewalks aren't for walking (183.6)
Yesterday I had the day off. I took full advantage.
I went to a pilates class in the a.m. (holy crap, it was hard). I did my Easter basket shopping, tried on clothes at JCPenney (found a cute dress for vacation for $20, but everything else I tried on was just sad...I need to wait till I lose 10 pounds before I try on any more clothes).
Then I got my haircut (shorter--it looks really cute), and came home. Mark was on his way to a body pump class, so I threw on my walking clothes and hit the pavement. It was gorgeous outside. Cloudy but still some blue skies, with a nice breeze to brush away the humidity. I had an hour, and I went 4 miles. I jogged, in total, a little less than a mile.
I was feeling so great, and with just under a mile to go, some loser slows his van down beside me and says "You see the sidewalk, right?" then shakes his head in condescension and drives off.
The main road near our neighborhood was redone the last couple of summers--widened to two wide lanes with a wide turn lane in the middle. It's beautiful, new, smooth asphalt. Which anyone who puts any miles whatsoever on their feet outside KNOWS is much, much better than the brand new concrete sidewalk, which was also newly installed last summer. Asphalt gives back, all squishy and gentle-like; concrete takes away, with giant thuds of "oh no you are not pounding me--I am gonna pound on you."
I never walk on that sidewalk. There's no reason to. The drive lanes are huge, plenty of room for cars. I always hit asphalt when it's safe, no matter the road.
I've never, ever been verbally assaulted by someone like that. (Ok, that's a bit dramatic, but that's how it felt.) I was taken off guard and pissed off. I yelled at him to bite me. Then as he drove away I said "there's plenty of room for you to drive on, asshole." Yeah, not my finest moment. I wish I'd said, "what, there's not enough room on the road for you and your tiny penis?"
Of course, my gut reaction was he's picking on me because I'm fat. If I'd been running on the asphalt at 145 pounds, he'd probably have whistled at me. Which doesn't make him any less of an asswipe.
I talked with Mark about this (and the lost pictures issues) when he got home. It helped to put things in perspective. I KNOW the guy is the one with the problem, not me. But it still rankled me.
It bothers me that my first thoughts go to being hassled because I'm fat. This isn't the first time I've noticed being treated differently because of my weight, though. Seriously, and any of you who are overweight know this too, when you're fat, it's often like you're invisible. I've felt invisible on several occasions the past few months. At stores, at work, at home.
Is it because of my weight? Or am I putting off a "leave me alone" vibe? Or what?
More fodder for therapy.
I hope that guy woke up this morning with a big boil on his butt. That will teach him.
I went to a pilates class in the a.m. (holy crap, it was hard). I did my Easter basket shopping, tried on clothes at JCPenney (found a cute dress for vacation for $20, but everything else I tried on was just sad...I need to wait till I lose 10 pounds before I try on any more clothes).
Then I got my haircut (shorter--it looks really cute), and came home. Mark was on his way to a body pump class, so I threw on my walking clothes and hit the pavement. It was gorgeous outside. Cloudy but still some blue skies, with a nice breeze to brush away the humidity. I had an hour, and I went 4 miles. I jogged, in total, a little less than a mile.
I was feeling so great, and with just under a mile to go, some loser slows his van down beside me and says "You see the sidewalk, right?" then shakes his head in condescension and drives off.
The main road near our neighborhood was redone the last couple of summers--widened to two wide lanes with a wide turn lane in the middle. It's beautiful, new, smooth asphalt. Which anyone who puts any miles whatsoever on their feet outside KNOWS is much, much better than the brand new concrete sidewalk, which was also newly installed last summer. Asphalt gives back, all squishy and gentle-like; concrete takes away, with giant thuds of "oh no you are not pounding me--I am gonna pound on you."
I never walk on that sidewalk. There's no reason to. The drive lanes are huge, plenty of room for cars. I always hit asphalt when it's safe, no matter the road.
I've never, ever been verbally assaulted by someone like that. (Ok, that's a bit dramatic, but that's how it felt.) I was taken off guard and pissed off. I yelled at him to bite me. Then as he drove away I said "there's plenty of room for you to drive on, asshole." Yeah, not my finest moment. I wish I'd said, "what, there's not enough room on the road for you and your tiny penis?"
Of course, my gut reaction was he's picking on me because I'm fat. If I'd been running on the asphalt at 145 pounds, he'd probably have whistled at me. Which doesn't make him any less of an asswipe.
I talked with Mark about this (and the lost pictures issues) when he got home. It helped to put things in perspective. I KNOW the guy is the one with the problem, not me. But it still rankled me.
It bothers me that my first thoughts go to being hassled because I'm fat. This isn't the first time I've noticed being treated differently because of my weight, though. Seriously, and any of you who are overweight know this too, when you're fat, it's often like you're invisible. I've felt invisible on several occasions the past few months. At stores, at work, at home.
Is it because of my weight? Or am I putting off a "leave me alone" vibe? Or what?
More fodder for therapy.
I hope that guy woke up this morning with a big boil on his butt. That will teach him.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Lost things
I hate looking for lost things. My kids (and often my husband) are constantly asking me to find their stuff. It drives me nuts.
I saw Roseanne Barr on The Tonight Show during her very first appearance with Carson. I must have been in my late teens, I guess. One bit has stuck with me all these years. "My family is always asking me to find things for them. Like the uterus is a tracking device." Funny, but true. The uterus IS a tracking device. That's why men can't ever find anything.
The lost things on my mind this morning are pictures and videos from my daughter's early childhood. I can't find the files I thought I had pulled off my husband's old laptop. I KNOW I took the laptop to our computer guy last year, and I KNOW I gave him the external harddrive to put them on. But they aren't there. And I can't find the old laptop, either, to have the files pulled off of it again.
It's eating me up inside--where are the files? Mark wants a video of Sophie when she was about 3 years old, telling the story of "The Three Little Pigs." I can see her perfectly in my minds eye....She's wearing a Disney Princesses nightgown in blue. She has a pixie haircut and a teeny button nose and huge blue eyes. For the big bad wolf she says, "And I'll puff! and I'll puff!" instead of "huff" then "puff." But I can't find the darn file.
I've looked everywhere for the old laptop. It hit me yesterday, with a sickening thud, that I think I had our computer guy destroy the harddrive after he pulled the files. The laptop was useless, and we didn't need it back, and I didn't need the harddrive because he pulled the files off.
And then, of course, I have MY harddrive that I sent to a Chicago firm that was supposed to get the files off that drive (which is dead as a doornail, and also encrypted) because there are three years of pictures I mostly don't have anywhere else. I have all our Christmases on Snapfish, and a lot of special events on Facebook. But there are thousands of pictures (and all our videos) that I'm probably never going to see again. Because the Chicago firm can't figure out the drive (even though I already paid them a $300 non-refundable "parts fee"). I may try again with a local company, but I don't have high hopes.
I haven't told Mark yet about his old laptop files. He's going to be really upset if the files are gone (not mad at me, but upset that they are lost--he's a very sentimental person and doesn't do well with losing sentimental things). I need to check with the computer company (our guy doesn't work there anymore, but hopefully they will have some kind of record of exactly what they did for me), but I'm not hopeful I'm going to get any good news.
Add that on top of the disappointment of losing my Dad's house to foreclosure, which we'd planned on but it still sucks, and battling my cousin for the $500 he still owes for the last two months of utilities he lived in my Dad's house (he's just completely ignoring my repeated text messages, which is disappointing and frustrating as hell, because I am NOT paying his $500 utility bill). And it's a lot of poo poo on my parade.
No matter how hard I try, I can't get the disappointing black cloud that's hanging over my head from these nagging issues to dissapate. I really want to just let them all go, and move on, but I keep replaying in my head what I did wrong, and "if only" I'd done things differently, I wouldn't be going through this right now.
I read Jen's post this morning, and I'm going to try to put my mind on this statement: "the people who are always abusing themselves for the things they should have done seem to use it as a substitute for action, not a spur toward change."
Wow. How often does "shoulding" cause me to be an inactive blob? All the time. Even stuff like the lost things can paralyze me, especially mentally. Which can push me toward soothing those feelings of loss with food.
Spur toward change. That's my mantra for today.
Oh, and backup the files. I have at least learned that lesson.
I saw Roseanne Barr on The Tonight Show during her very first appearance with Carson. I must have been in my late teens, I guess. One bit has stuck with me all these years. "My family is always asking me to find things for them. Like the uterus is a tracking device." Funny, but true. The uterus IS a tracking device. That's why men can't ever find anything.
The lost things on my mind this morning are pictures and videos from my daughter's early childhood. I can't find the files I thought I had pulled off my husband's old laptop. I KNOW I took the laptop to our computer guy last year, and I KNOW I gave him the external harddrive to put them on. But they aren't there. And I can't find the old laptop, either, to have the files pulled off of it again.
It's eating me up inside--where are the files? Mark wants a video of Sophie when she was about 3 years old, telling the story of "The Three Little Pigs." I can see her perfectly in my minds eye....She's wearing a Disney Princesses nightgown in blue. She has a pixie haircut and a teeny button nose and huge blue eyes. For the big bad wolf she says, "And I'll puff! and I'll puff!" instead of "huff" then "puff." But I can't find the darn file.
I've looked everywhere for the old laptop. It hit me yesterday, with a sickening thud, that I think I had our computer guy destroy the harddrive after he pulled the files. The laptop was useless, and we didn't need it back, and I didn't need the harddrive because he pulled the files off.
And then, of course, I have MY harddrive that I sent to a Chicago firm that was supposed to get the files off that drive (which is dead as a doornail, and also encrypted) because there are three years of pictures I mostly don't have anywhere else. I have all our Christmases on Snapfish, and a lot of special events on Facebook. But there are thousands of pictures (and all our videos) that I'm probably never going to see again. Because the Chicago firm can't figure out the drive (even though I already paid them a $300 non-refundable "parts fee"). I may try again with a local company, but I don't have high hopes.
I haven't told Mark yet about his old laptop files. He's going to be really upset if the files are gone (not mad at me, but upset that they are lost--he's a very sentimental person and doesn't do well with losing sentimental things). I need to check with the computer company (our guy doesn't work there anymore, but hopefully they will have some kind of record of exactly what they did for me), but I'm not hopeful I'm going to get any good news.
Add that on top of the disappointment of losing my Dad's house to foreclosure, which we'd planned on but it still sucks, and battling my cousin for the $500 he still owes for the last two months of utilities he lived in my Dad's house (he's just completely ignoring my repeated text messages, which is disappointing and frustrating as hell, because I am NOT paying his $500 utility bill). And it's a lot of poo poo on my parade.
No matter how hard I try, I can't get the disappointing black cloud that's hanging over my head from these nagging issues to dissapate. I really want to just let them all go, and move on, but I keep replaying in my head what I did wrong, and "if only" I'd done things differently, I wouldn't be going through this right now.
I read Jen's post this morning, and I'm going to try to put my mind on this statement: "the people who are always abusing themselves for the things they should have done seem to use it as a substitute for action, not a spur toward change."
Wow. How often does "shoulding" cause me to be an inactive blob? All the time. Even stuff like the lost things can paralyze me, especially mentally. Which can push me toward soothing those feelings of loss with food.
Spur toward change. That's my mantra for today.
Oh, and backup the files. I have at least learned that lesson.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Fancy Gym
I think it helps to get all that negative crap out of my head and onto the blog. Somehow, it makes room for positive thoughts to get in. Ya know? Thanks for all your comments. They always, always help.
I've been mulling over the "what I did right in 2007" thing. I figure I ought to, like, go read my own blog so I can tell my 2011 self what I was doing in 2007. I mean, I've got a little time machine (ala Blogger) in my hands--why the heck not use it?
I read one post from March yesterday before I had to leave to pick up the kids. It was March 30, 2007. This bit me in the butt:
20 pounds is when it really starts to show. It's almost like the first 20 don't mean anything to anyone but me, then all of the sudden people start to notice. "Hey, are you losing weight?" "Um, yeah, I have been for like 3 months and you're just now noticing."
Not sure if I'm ready for the attention that it will bring though. I like compliments, don't get me wrong. But something happens around that time in my weight loss (at least in the past) when I've gotten down to a size 12 and I start to really look good, that I start gaining it all back again. It's not going to happen this time (I'm way too invested to blow it this time), but I have to keep in mind my uncomfortable feelings and guard myself from eating my way through them.
Clearly I have a "compliments" issue. I like being noticed, but I'm uncomfortable being noticed. I want to lose weight, but when I do I am missing a layer of protection (Vickie writes about this a lot, especially regarding the last 20 pounds she lost), and then I put the layer of protection back on. This is kick-ass fodder for therapy. Woot!
I love how cocky I was--"it's not going to happen this time." I hear the Biggest Loser contestants say that all the time. I love that show, and I love what they are doing for people on the show and how inspiring the contestants are. But what they do there is one big fat set up for failure, if there ever was one. You can't maintain that lifestyle in real life. I wonder how many contestants have regained their weight? I watched the "where are they now?" show last year (I've actually watched it a couple times on hulu.com), and one girl said Dr. H told her she'd have to workout 90 minutes 6 days a week to keep her weight off. And she said, "you know what, he's right." There are obviously some people they interviewed that had gained some back, and one winner who gained it all back. I don't judge these people (anymore). I AM those people. I just wish TBL did a better job of talking about real life and food and real life, instead of focusing on the gym so darn much. I guess prepping food and eating it on TV isn't the ratings gold that getting a beating from Jillian is.
Speaking of the gym... Tuesday I got a call from the membership sales person at our city's Fancy Gym. They are running a 20% discount on summer memberships (which we've done the past two years--they have a fabulous pool) and we can use the club NOW. And would we like to sign up?
Hell yeah, I want to sign up. Fancy Gym was one of the things I had going for me in 2007. It's the only gym that has enough classes that I can do them on a regular basis. So you know what? I took myself (with the blessings of my boss, aka my husband) to the gym at 9 am and did a body pump class. It was bliss. I love lifting weights. I do have an issue with my left arm, because of the nerve compression issue that's still hanging around, so I'm having to modify biceps significantly (and my arm is hurting, so I think I still overdid it even though I baby'd it). They have Zumba, which I've never done. And yoga, and mat pilates (and fancy pilates with the machines soon, but that's still in the works as they are remodeling right now), and kick boxing. And oodles of treadmills and a huge indoor track and weight machines and free weights.
I took all my get-ready stuff with me, and was out of the shower and ready in 45 minutes. Plus, there's free hot water! free shampoo and conditioner! free hairspray! free body lotion! This place is going to pay for itself in a few weeks. :) The water must be softened because my hair is soooo soft and manageable. That's enough to get me to the gym every morning.
I really am excited about the working out thing. Classes are always where I've enjoyed exercising the most. Once I get some weight off (did you hear that tiny whisper of hope in that statement?!), it will be easier to run. I love running, but it's really hard to do at 185 pounds.
Today I'm enjoying the smell of success--in the form of the gym's body lotion. It smells yummy.
I've been mulling over the "what I did right in 2007" thing. I figure I ought to, like, go read my own blog so I can tell my 2011 self what I was doing in 2007. I mean, I've got a little time machine (ala Blogger) in my hands--why the heck not use it?
I read one post from March yesterday before I had to leave to pick up the kids. It was March 30, 2007. This bit me in the butt:
20 pounds is when it really starts to show. It's almost like the first 20 don't mean anything to anyone but me, then all of the sudden people start to notice. "Hey, are you losing weight?" "Um, yeah, I have been for like 3 months and you're just now noticing."
Not sure if I'm ready for the attention that it will bring though. I like compliments, don't get me wrong. But something happens around that time in my weight loss (at least in the past) when I've gotten down to a size 12 and I start to really look good, that I start gaining it all back again. It's not going to happen this time (I'm way too invested to blow it this time), but I have to keep in mind my uncomfortable feelings and guard myself from eating my way through them.
Clearly I have a "compliments" issue. I like being noticed, but I'm uncomfortable being noticed. I want to lose weight, but when I do I am missing a layer of protection (Vickie writes about this a lot, especially regarding the last 20 pounds she lost), and then I put the layer of protection back on. This is kick-ass fodder for therapy. Woot!
I love how cocky I was--"it's not going to happen this time." I hear the Biggest Loser contestants say that all the time. I love that show, and I love what they are doing for people on the show and how inspiring the contestants are. But what they do there is one big fat set up for failure, if there ever was one. You can't maintain that lifestyle in real life. I wonder how many contestants have regained their weight? I watched the "where are they now?" show last year (I've actually watched it a couple times on hulu.com), and one girl said Dr. H told her she'd have to workout 90 minutes 6 days a week to keep her weight off. And she said, "you know what, he's right." There are obviously some people they interviewed that had gained some back, and one winner who gained it all back. I don't judge these people (anymore). I AM those people. I just wish TBL did a better job of talking about real life and food and real life, instead of focusing on the gym so darn much. I guess prepping food and eating it on TV isn't the ratings gold that getting a beating from Jillian is.
Speaking of the gym... Tuesday I got a call from the membership sales person at our city's Fancy Gym. They are running a 20% discount on summer memberships (which we've done the past two years--they have a fabulous pool) and we can use the club NOW. And would we like to sign up?
Hell yeah, I want to sign up. Fancy Gym was one of the things I had going for me in 2007. It's the only gym that has enough classes that I can do them on a regular basis. So you know what? I took myself (with the blessings of my boss, aka my husband) to the gym at 9 am and did a body pump class. It was bliss. I love lifting weights. I do have an issue with my left arm, because of the nerve compression issue that's still hanging around, so I'm having to modify biceps significantly (and my arm is hurting, so I think I still overdid it even though I baby'd it). They have Zumba, which I've never done. And yoga, and mat pilates (and fancy pilates with the machines soon, but that's still in the works as they are remodeling right now), and kick boxing. And oodles of treadmills and a huge indoor track and weight machines and free weights.
I took all my get-ready stuff with me, and was out of the shower and ready in 45 minutes. Plus, there's free hot water! free shampoo and conditioner! free hairspray! free body lotion! This place is going to pay for itself in a few weeks. :) The water must be softened because my hair is soooo soft and manageable. That's enough to get me to the gym every morning.
I really am excited about the working out thing. Classes are always where I've enjoyed exercising the most. Once I get some weight off (did you hear that tiny whisper of hope in that statement?!), it will be easier to run. I love running, but it's really hard to do at 185 pounds.
Today I'm enjoying the smell of success--in the form of the gym's body lotion. It smells yummy.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Tough Truths (184.6)
I'm facing some pretty rough realizations lately.
1) I haven't lost any weight for over a year and a half. Pretty much all I've done is gain weight since the end of 2009. It's, in all seriousness, like I've forgotten how.
2) I keep asking myself "what's wrong with me?" when I feed my food addiction over and over and over. Should I instead be asking myself "what was RIGHT with me in 2007?"
3) I rarely get compliments any more. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm just making an observation. When I was thinner, people would say how cute *I* looked. Heck, I even got whistled or honked at by random strangers (like, two times, but I remember them both very well). Now, it's how cute my dress or my blouse is (IF it's cute... I only have a few things worth commenting on).
4) I may be, on some unknown level, terrified of getting those compliments again. But I'm annoyed (ok, I'll admit it, it's not just an observation. It makes me sad) that I don't get complimented anymore.
5) I don't know what it's going to take to get me back to that place again, where I can do what I need to do to lose weight and get healthy. And not knowing if or when I can get back there is somehow paralyzing me.
6) My husband is back to weighing 200 pounds. By doing NOTHING. No eating plan, no exercise. He's just stopped filling his face with crap, and in about 3 months has lost 20-25 pounds. He announced yesterday that he was under 200 pounds. Instead of feeling happy for him, I felt mad and depressed.
7) Once I hit 170 pounds, it was like I breathed 10 times and BOOM I weighed 180+. The last 15 pounds came on in a stupidly quick fashion. I'm really scared I'm going to put on another 15 in a blink, and weigh more than my husband does. Again.
8) I hate being this size. I'm in size 14s, and the dresses look ok (thank God for boob-high Assets, so no muffin top when I'm squeezing in my saddle bags), but my pants are all tight. I hate that I'm going to Florida in a little over a month, and I have to buy new summer clothes to wear. I hate spending money on clothes I hate. I'd rather spend it on my kids having fun on vacation. Or on myself having fun on vacation.
9) I will probably have to buy a size 18 bathing suit. Shit.
10) Being obese again hurts. Really, awfully, terribly much. I just want to be normal again. I don't know how to get there.
This bummer of a post has been brought to you by WPMS....
1) I haven't lost any weight for over a year and a half. Pretty much all I've done is gain weight since the end of 2009. It's, in all seriousness, like I've forgotten how.
2) I keep asking myself "what's wrong with me?" when I feed my food addiction over and over and over. Should I instead be asking myself "what was RIGHT with me in 2007?"
3) I rarely get compliments any more. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm just making an observation. When I was thinner, people would say how cute *I* looked. Heck, I even got whistled or honked at by random strangers (like, two times, but I remember them both very well). Now, it's how cute my dress or my blouse is (IF it's cute... I only have a few things worth commenting on).
4) I may be, on some unknown level, terrified of getting those compliments again. But I'm annoyed (ok, I'll admit it, it's not just an observation. It makes me sad) that I don't get complimented anymore.
5) I don't know what it's going to take to get me back to that place again, where I can do what I need to do to lose weight and get healthy. And not knowing if or when I can get back there is somehow paralyzing me.
6) My husband is back to weighing 200 pounds. By doing NOTHING. No eating plan, no exercise. He's just stopped filling his face with crap, and in about 3 months has lost 20-25 pounds. He announced yesterday that he was under 200 pounds. Instead of feeling happy for him, I felt mad and depressed.
7) Once I hit 170 pounds, it was like I breathed 10 times and BOOM I weighed 180+. The last 15 pounds came on in a stupidly quick fashion. I'm really scared I'm going to put on another 15 in a blink, and weigh more than my husband does. Again.
8) I hate being this size. I'm in size 14s, and the dresses look ok (thank God for boob-high Assets, so no muffin top when I'm squeezing in my saddle bags), but my pants are all tight. I hate that I'm going to Florida in a little over a month, and I have to buy new summer clothes to wear. I hate spending money on clothes I hate. I'd rather spend it on my kids having fun on vacation. Or on myself having fun on vacation.
9) I will probably have to buy a size 18 bathing suit. Shit.
10) Being obese again hurts. Really, awfully, terribly much. I just want to be normal again. I don't know how to get there.
This bummer of a post has been brought to you by WPMS....
Friday, April 15, 2011
A good week (183.4)
I had one of the best birthdays ever Wednesday. It was my 41st. (didn't I just turn 40?!)
But before I go to Wednesday, let me back up a few days.
Monday was a rainy, icky day. Usually on a day like this, I'd be sunk--feeling sad, no energy, eating all things sugary. But I felt good all day. I felt stable, not depressed. All day and night. I met with my new psychiatrist at my new therapists office that night(more on that in a bit), after I did one mile on the treadmill at the gym. All I had time for was one mile. But I went. And I did something.
Tuesday was sunshiny and I did OK.
Wednesday was the day of extraordinary pampering. Mark and the kids woke me up with breakfast in bed (pancakes, turkey bacon, strawberries, OJ--yes, I ate it all and it was fabulous). And presents--Sophie made me a bracelet, Luke painted a picture for me that Mark had framed for the wall, and Mark gave me a sweet card, a dozen pink roses, and the day off (which was the best gift ever).
After I got Sophie on the bus and Luke to day care, I took myself to the spa for a 3 hour spoil-me-rotten session (on the gift card from Mark that he got me for our anniversary in March). I got a massage, a facial, and a pedicure (blue is the new red for toenails this year, just so ya know). I was in heaven.
Then I went to Panera for lunch (on the giftcard from my coworker Sara), and ate a salad outside in the sunshine. After I was finished eating, I stayed put and read Tina Fey's Bossypants (which is brilliantly funny) on my Kindle, in the sunshine. Did I mention there was sunshine? Then I went to Dillard's and found a great new dress (for Easter mostly, but also because I wanted to dress up for dinner).
After I got all spiffed up, I picked up the kids and met Mark for dinner at Bonefish Grill. I ate well, but wasn't stuffed (martini, 1/2 appetizer, salad, and 1/2 coconut pie--which was my "cake"). Then Sophie & I went to church for choir practice, which always refreshes me because I love singing in the choir. Got home, got kids to bed, read CS Lewis's The Magician's Nephew to Luke (which we both are loving, so much).
Then I went and hugged on my husband for helping make my day so wonderfully fabulous. I really was practically high all day. And that hasn't happened in, gosh, ages and ages.
Thursday was back to work, and it was the day from h-e-double hockey sticks. Well, not really, but it was intensely frustrating. My blackberry got taken over by Facebook (I have no idea how), which jacked up my ability to sync to my Outlook calendar & contacts. I spent almost 3 hours on the phone with Verizon tech support to get the thing fixed. During the down times while we waited on the phone to do it's thing (we had to wipe it completely & start over from scratch), I worked on my Dad's taxes on Turbo Tax. Talk about no fun. I had to go through all the receipts and stuff from his home care and medical expenses. I've been putting it off, obviously, because it's a lot of pain to deal with.
A good thing my therapy appointment was Thursday afternoon. I got to unload on Julie, and I didn't lose it. I also have to tell you that I'm dealing with the mortgage company forclosing on Dad's house (It's terribly upside down--neither of us wanted to put $50,000 a piece into it, so my sister & I decided to let it go. For me, it was a no brainer--way too many painful memories there). I got the paperwork on that last week, and talked to the attorney this week. So there's a lot of stuff going on that bringing up a lot of Dad memories, and I'm keeping it together so far. Julie felt good about that, and so did I.
We also talked about my relationship with Mark, which was some good stuff but pretty personal, so I'll skip the update on that. I meet with her again in two weeks (next week was full for her, and it was for me too, because it's Holy Week).
Did I mention I did 45 minutes on the treadmill Thursday morning after Sophie got on the school bus? Yeah, I did. It really helped carry me through the crapola.
Now today, it's back to rainy and stormy, and I still feel stable. Not down or weepy. I had my second acupuncture appointment today, and felt refreshed and chillaxed afterwards. I got to grocery shop in peace tonight, while Sophie was at a Girl Scout's event and Mark had Luke.
So those are the nitty gritties. Good stuff, and I'm feeling fairly happy.
Here's the interesting bits.
I started taking myself off of Wellbutrin a few weeks ago--the usual titration routine. I've weaned myself off antidepressants several times, so I know what to watch for and how to do it. No brain zaps (wellbutrin is the easiest to get off of, in my experience). I'm guessing part of my intense melancholy over the past few weeks could be related to this (circumstances were crazy out of control, though, so I'm not blaming it all on the med withdrawal). As of Monday I'd been off completely for 6 days. I asked the psychiatrist if it would be all out of my system--she said for sure, since I'd been titrating for a couple weeks before that. I think, in my non-doctor opinion, that getting the medicine that wasn't working out of my brain is helping my brain work like it's supposed to.
I asked if I could wait to go back on something else. Do therapy, do acupuncture, eat well, exercise, let summer work it's magic, and see how I do. If I feel myself slipping, she is right there and I can get back on something (we discussed celexa and cymbalta, since I've tried lexapro, prozac, and zoloft already, and know that I gain/keep on weight with all three of those). In 2007 when I lost 55 pounds, I was on no meds for almost an entire year. It wasn't until my SAD kicked in that I started taking Wellbutrin (in January 2008).
So I know I can do mentally healthy all by myself. Whether or not this will stick, is anyone's guess. I'm not against taking meds. I just don't want to jack up my brain by adding another chemical back in, if it needs to chill out for a while. Which is what feels right (and my therapist agrees is OK).
The other interesting thing: I'm trying a new "diet." Fruits and veggies! Shocking, I know. I should write a book. Actually, Mark has been talking about going Vegan for a while (his brother in Colorado is, I think I mentioned this already). The girls at the spa doing pedicures talked about a detox diet that was fruits, veggies, and protein powder (there was more to it than that, but you get the drift). I felt like the universe was telling me "start eating fruits and veggies already, and you'll lose this weight."
So yesterday that's what I did. And also today. I'm not starving myself, and I did have lean chicken for lunch with my spinach salad. I'm not eliminating carbs, just taking them way down, and avoiding junk food. I am planning on using my LA Lite bars for my treats, just like I did when I was on their plan in 2007, so I don't feel deprived. It's worked for 2 days. The big news is that I'm in a mind set of "eat a piece of fruit instead of cookies" and "eat veggies for lunch and dinner" and "I'm not eating that piece of carby deliciousness! it's not a veggie or fruit." At this point, seriously, anything is better than what I had been doing, which is nothing, so this is a victory. And I'm going with it.
Hoping for some good weather this weekend so I can haul my butt around the 'hood and get some miles on my feet. Hope you enjoy yours!
But before I go to Wednesday, let me back up a few days.
Monday was a rainy, icky day. Usually on a day like this, I'd be sunk--feeling sad, no energy, eating all things sugary. But I felt good all day. I felt stable, not depressed. All day and night. I met with my new psychiatrist at my new therapists office that night(more on that in a bit), after I did one mile on the treadmill at the gym. All I had time for was one mile. But I went. And I did something.
Tuesday was sunshiny and I did OK.
Wednesday was the day of extraordinary pampering. Mark and the kids woke me up with breakfast in bed (pancakes, turkey bacon, strawberries, OJ--yes, I ate it all and it was fabulous). And presents--Sophie made me a bracelet, Luke painted a picture for me that Mark had framed for the wall, and Mark gave me a sweet card, a dozen pink roses, and the day off (which was the best gift ever).
After I got Sophie on the bus and Luke to day care, I took myself to the spa for a 3 hour spoil-me-rotten session (on the gift card from Mark that he got me for our anniversary in March). I got a massage, a facial, and a pedicure (blue is the new red for toenails this year, just so ya know). I was in heaven.
Then I went to Panera for lunch (on the giftcard from my coworker Sara), and ate a salad outside in the sunshine. After I was finished eating, I stayed put and read Tina Fey's Bossypants (which is brilliantly funny) on my Kindle, in the sunshine. Did I mention there was sunshine? Then I went to Dillard's and found a great new dress (for Easter mostly, but also because I wanted to dress up for dinner).
After I got all spiffed up, I picked up the kids and met Mark for dinner at Bonefish Grill. I ate well, but wasn't stuffed (martini, 1/2 appetizer, salad, and 1/2 coconut pie--which was my "cake"). Then Sophie & I went to church for choir practice, which always refreshes me because I love singing in the choir. Got home, got kids to bed, read CS Lewis's The Magician's Nephew to Luke (which we both are loving, so much).
Then I went and hugged on my husband for helping make my day so wonderfully fabulous. I really was practically high all day. And that hasn't happened in, gosh, ages and ages.
Thursday was back to work, and it was the day from h-e-double hockey sticks. Well, not really, but it was intensely frustrating. My blackberry got taken over by Facebook (I have no idea how), which jacked up my ability to sync to my Outlook calendar & contacts. I spent almost 3 hours on the phone with Verizon tech support to get the thing fixed. During the down times while we waited on the phone to do it's thing (we had to wipe it completely & start over from scratch), I worked on my Dad's taxes on Turbo Tax. Talk about no fun. I had to go through all the receipts and stuff from his home care and medical expenses. I've been putting it off, obviously, because it's a lot of pain to deal with.
A good thing my therapy appointment was Thursday afternoon. I got to unload on Julie, and I didn't lose it. I also have to tell you that I'm dealing with the mortgage company forclosing on Dad's house (It's terribly upside down--neither of us wanted to put $50,000 a piece into it, so my sister & I decided to let it go. For me, it was a no brainer--way too many painful memories there). I got the paperwork on that last week, and talked to the attorney this week. So there's a lot of stuff going on that bringing up a lot of Dad memories, and I'm keeping it together so far. Julie felt good about that, and so did I.
We also talked about my relationship with Mark, which was some good stuff but pretty personal, so I'll skip the update on that. I meet with her again in two weeks (next week was full for her, and it was for me too, because it's Holy Week).
Did I mention I did 45 minutes on the treadmill Thursday morning after Sophie got on the school bus? Yeah, I did. It really helped carry me through the crapola.
Now today, it's back to rainy and stormy, and I still feel stable. Not down or weepy. I had my second acupuncture appointment today, and felt refreshed and chillaxed afterwards. I got to grocery shop in peace tonight, while Sophie was at a Girl Scout's event and Mark had Luke.
So those are the nitty gritties. Good stuff, and I'm feeling fairly happy.
Here's the interesting bits.
I started taking myself off of Wellbutrin a few weeks ago--the usual titration routine. I've weaned myself off antidepressants several times, so I know what to watch for and how to do it. No brain zaps (wellbutrin is the easiest to get off of, in my experience). I'm guessing part of my intense melancholy over the past few weeks could be related to this (circumstances were crazy out of control, though, so I'm not blaming it all on the med withdrawal). As of Monday I'd been off completely for 6 days. I asked the psychiatrist if it would be all out of my system--she said for sure, since I'd been titrating for a couple weeks before that. I think, in my non-doctor opinion, that getting the medicine that wasn't working out of my brain is helping my brain work like it's supposed to.
I asked if I could wait to go back on something else. Do therapy, do acupuncture, eat well, exercise, let summer work it's magic, and see how I do. If I feel myself slipping, she is right there and I can get back on something (we discussed celexa and cymbalta, since I've tried lexapro, prozac, and zoloft already, and know that I gain/keep on weight with all three of those). In 2007 when I lost 55 pounds, I was on no meds for almost an entire year. It wasn't until my SAD kicked in that I started taking Wellbutrin (in January 2008).
So I know I can do mentally healthy all by myself. Whether or not this will stick, is anyone's guess. I'm not against taking meds. I just don't want to jack up my brain by adding another chemical back in, if it needs to chill out for a while. Which is what feels right (and my therapist agrees is OK).
The other interesting thing: I'm trying a new "diet." Fruits and veggies! Shocking, I know. I should write a book. Actually, Mark has been talking about going Vegan for a while (his brother in Colorado is, I think I mentioned this already). The girls at the spa doing pedicures talked about a detox diet that was fruits, veggies, and protein powder (there was more to it than that, but you get the drift). I felt like the universe was telling me "start eating fruits and veggies already, and you'll lose this weight."
So yesterday that's what I did. And also today. I'm not starving myself, and I did have lean chicken for lunch with my spinach salad. I'm not eliminating carbs, just taking them way down, and avoiding junk food. I am planning on using my LA Lite bars for my treats, just like I did when I was on their plan in 2007, so I don't feel deprived. It's worked for 2 days. The big news is that I'm in a mind set of "eat a piece of fruit instead of cookies" and "eat veggies for lunch and dinner" and "I'm not eating that piece of carby deliciousness! it's not a veggie or fruit." At this point, seriously, anything is better than what I had been doing, which is nothing, so this is a victory. And I'm going with it.
Hoping for some good weather this weekend so I can haul my butt around the 'hood and get some miles on my feet. Hope you enjoy yours!
Monday, April 11, 2011
Therapy - Part 3. And acupuncture.
A few other main points from my first therapy session:
Grief--expressed & unexpressed. I need to work through the obvious grief of losing my Dad, and everything that that complicated relationship involved, but also the unexpressed grief of a childhood I feel like I never had.
I matured very early. I am a first-born. I got good grades & stayed out of trouble.
Which apparently meant that my parents didn't need to parent me after the age of 11.
I had a boyfriend who was 6 years older than I was when I was 12. My mom met my dad at the same age--he was 6 years older than she was, too. He went away to the Army, though, and when he came back she was 16 years old. They got married when she was 17, and had me when she was 18 (they were married before they were pregnant--and she still got married that young). She did finish high school, even though she had a baby her senior year. So, to them, I guess, my dating an 18 year old when I was in middle school was no big deal.
Only it WAS A big deal. I mean--DUH. This is the BIG box I keep locked up, and I'm not going to go into it all here. But, I blame my parents and especially my mom for what happened.
I never realized or thought about how I didn't have a childhood. How I basically parented myself from a tender age. Even when I was 20 and I needed my parents to make grown up decisions on my behalf (more on that later), they didn't. They left it up to me. And they shouldn't have.
Which brings me to the next point: I'm going to be the mom of a 12 year old in two years. I didn't even realize this was an issue for me, mentally. But it's a huge one. I have no idea what good parenting of a teenager should look like. I only know what I will NOT let happen to my daughter. And there's the rub--I will likely over protect my teenage daughter (and son, but he's only 5). I don't want to mess her up by going too far the other way. So, we are going to work through that, too.
Flexibility/Inflexibility-- I have a hard time switching gears. I see the way something is to happen, and if someone throws a monkey wrench in our plans, I don't adjust very well. It takes a lot of time for me to change my expectations. I can get there, but give me time and let me get there in my own way. This is hard on the people I live with (or travel with, which I found out in 2009 when we went to St John with 3 other couples--thank goodness the adult drinks were plentiful, because I'm much more mellow with a few bushwhackers in me). But, it's also hard on ME. This is one of those under the surface issues, I think, that doesn't stick out like a sore thumb (as the above issues do), but is very important for me to work out.
My second therapy appointment was just as revealing. The biggest issues we discovered was this:
My dad used to belittle my mom a lot. He was smart and prized intelligence over everything else. He had very few friends (and for most of his life, none at all). I was smart; I had a perfect 4.0 in high school and got a full paid scholarship to college (thank God, because my parents hadn't saved any money for me). I watched my Dad talk to my mom like she was a bug; I often agreed with him. I sided with my Dad when I was a kid. But I couldn't really say why, when Julie asked me why I chose him over Mom. I thought it was because I blamed her for the non-parenting parts. But dad is just as responsible for parenting as mom, so why not blame him too? Because, Julie said, if you'd have not sided with Dad, could he have withdrawn his love from me?
Bing bing bing! Correct answer, smack in the eyeballs. As a 40 year old adult, I did the same thing. I did NOTHING to my dad when he was sick to make him upset with me. At least, I did as little as possible to not appear to give him everything he wanted.
And you know what happened? About a month before he died (he'd been in the nursing home for a month already), one night when I went to visit him but only had about 45 minutes, when it was time for me to leave and I said "I love you Dad," he shook his head NO. He could still move his head and his eyes enough to communicate pleasure or displeasure. He clearly was telling me "YOU DO NOT LOVE ME. If you loved me, you wouldn't have put me in this nursing home. It's YOUR FAULT I'm here."
I'm not making this up or assuming that's how he felt. He told my sister he thought it was my fault, because I was in charge of his finances.
So my childhood fears were realized, when I was 40 years old. He did exactly what I'd been trying to avoid my whole life--he withdrew his love from me. Now, we sort of reconciled, and he apologized that night (he sent me a text message from his computer, because my uncle made him). And the rest of the times I saw him he never did that again. But he damaged something in me very deeply. And it still really hurts.
Anyway, the kicker is this--I often behave like my dad towards my husband. I never, ever realized it before. I can be passive aggressive, with little stuff especially, and make Mark feel like a child. It's one of our biggest arguments, how I treat or talk to him like a child. I respect him on so many levels, but there is a part of me that thinks he's an idiot about basic things, and it comes out a lot-- like my dad did to my mom. Not the same, but enough to see that I am transferring what I got from my Dad to my husband.
The questions my therapist had me write down after that appointment were: "What price, what consequences, have I paid by turning toward Dad and against Mom? What role has that played in my adult life?"
She discussed the concept "repeat to complete" regarding my interactions with my husband. I don't fully understand what that means yet, other than I'm reenacting what I saw in my childhood, in my adult life. And, she said, I now have an opportunity to heal and NOT repeat what my dad did. I can bring out another outcome, and break the cycle.
I am seeing their nurse practitioner tonight at 6 p to discuss my medication issues. I will let you know what happens after that appointment.
Oh, the acupuncture. Holy moly. That was awesome. First of all, it's done in a spa-styled room, so I was automatically relaxed. Second, I felt the energy in my body "pull" to the very first needle he inserted in my lower back. I knew nothing about acupuncture before I went, other than the doctor and his brother are good friends of my husband. Dr. J explained a lot to me before hand, and I read a flier in the waiting room. So I had zero expectations. Feeling the energy in my body come to a tight little point was bizarre. It hurt some, when the needles went into soft spots like my waist, but mostly I didn't feel anything other than the energy concentration on some needles. The needle in the middle of my stomach hurt the worst, and there's even a bruise now. The session lasted about an hour. He did a series on my lower back for immunity, and another series that's called a GAM treatment. You'll love this--GAM stands for Great American Malady. Yeah, I think we all know what that treats.
I'm going weekly for at least 6 weeks. I cannot wait to go back. I felt relaxed and energized afterwards. It transferred into my entire Friday night and even some into the weekend. After last week, you'd think I'd have been in a ball for two days. But I wasn't. I did OK. I still didn't eat very well, and didn't exercise. BUT I am not in the toilet today, even though it's been raining since late last night and hasn't yet stopped. I am going to the gym after I finish this, before my appointment at 6.
Whether it was the acupuncture or my hormones behaving or some other cosmic force, I don't care. I'll take a semi-stable day like today for what it's worth--gold.
P.S. No weight today. Just got in a hurry & didn't weigh before my shower. I was 185.6 on Sunday, which sucks, but wasn't surprising. I could lose 4 pounds if I'd just cut out the carbs, which I'm gearing up for. Really, I am. I can feel a change coming. Plus, my husband told me today he wants to start eating an almost vegetarian diet (like his brother in Colorado is doing), and that's a huge deal. If we can both get on the same track, it will be a very good thing to have his help and support.
Grief--expressed & unexpressed. I need to work through the obvious grief of losing my Dad, and everything that that complicated relationship involved, but also the unexpressed grief of a childhood I feel like I never had.
I matured very early. I am a first-born. I got good grades & stayed out of trouble.
Which apparently meant that my parents didn't need to parent me after the age of 11.
I had a boyfriend who was 6 years older than I was when I was 12. My mom met my dad at the same age--he was 6 years older than she was, too. He went away to the Army, though, and when he came back she was 16 years old. They got married when she was 17, and had me when she was 18 (they were married before they were pregnant--and she still got married that young). She did finish high school, even though she had a baby her senior year. So, to them, I guess, my dating an 18 year old when I was in middle school was no big deal.
Only it WAS A big deal. I mean--DUH. This is the BIG box I keep locked up, and I'm not going to go into it all here. But, I blame my parents and especially my mom for what happened.
I never realized or thought about how I didn't have a childhood. How I basically parented myself from a tender age. Even when I was 20 and I needed my parents to make grown up decisions on my behalf (more on that later), they didn't. They left it up to me. And they shouldn't have.
Which brings me to the next point: I'm going to be the mom of a 12 year old in two years. I didn't even realize this was an issue for me, mentally. But it's a huge one. I have no idea what good parenting of a teenager should look like. I only know what I will NOT let happen to my daughter. And there's the rub--I will likely over protect my teenage daughter (and son, but he's only 5). I don't want to mess her up by going too far the other way. So, we are going to work through that, too.
Flexibility/Inflexibility-- I have a hard time switching gears. I see the way something is to happen, and if someone throws a monkey wrench in our plans, I don't adjust very well. It takes a lot of time for me to change my expectations. I can get there, but give me time and let me get there in my own way. This is hard on the people I live with (or travel with, which I found out in 2009 when we went to St John with 3 other couples--thank goodness the adult drinks were plentiful, because I'm much more mellow with a few bushwhackers in me). But, it's also hard on ME. This is one of those under the surface issues, I think, that doesn't stick out like a sore thumb (as the above issues do), but is very important for me to work out.
My second therapy appointment was just as revealing. The biggest issues we discovered was this:
My dad used to belittle my mom a lot. He was smart and prized intelligence over everything else. He had very few friends (and for most of his life, none at all). I was smart; I had a perfect 4.0 in high school and got a full paid scholarship to college (thank God, because my parents hadn't saved any money for me). I watched my Dad talk to my mom like she was a bug; I often agreed with him. I sided with my Dad when I was a kid. But I couldn't really say why, when Julie asked me why I chose him over Mom. I thought it was because I blamed her for the non-parenting parts. But dad is just as responsible for parenting as mom, so why not blame him too? Because, Julie said, if you'd have not sided with Dad, could he have withdrawn his love from me?
Bing bing bing! Correct answer, smack in the eyeballs. As a 40 year old adult, I did the same thing. I did NOTHING to my dad when he was sick to make him upset with me. At least, I did as little as possible to not appear to give him everything he wanted.
And you know what happened? About a month before he died (he'd been in the nursing home for a month already), one night when I went to visit him but only had about 45 minutes, when it was time for me to leave and I said "I love you Dad," he shook his head NO. He could still move his head and his eyes enough to communicate pleasure or displeasure. He clearly was telling me "YOU DO NOT LOVE ME. If you loved me, you wouldn't have put me in this nursing home. It's YOUR FAULT I'm here."
I'm not making this up or assuming that's how he felt. He told my sister he thought it was my fault, because I was in charge of his finances.
So my childhood fears were realized, when I was 40 years old. He did exactly what I'd been trying to avoid my whole life--he withdrew his love from me. Now, we sort of reconciled, and he apologized that night (he sent me a text message from his computer, because my uncle made him). And the rest of the times I saw him he never did that again. But he damaged something in me very deeply. And it still really hurts.
Anyway, the kicker is this--I often behave like my dad towards my husband. I never, ever realized it before. I can be passive aggressive, with little stuff especially, and make Mark feel like a child. It's one of our biggest arguments, how I treat or talk to him like a child. I respect him on so many levels, but there is a part of me that thinks he's an idiot about basic things, and it comes out a lot-- like my dad did to my mom. Not the same, but enough to see that I am transferring what I got from my Dad to my husband.
The questions my therapist had me write down after that appointment were: "What price, what consequences, have I paid by turning toward Dad and against Mom? What role has that played in my adult life?"
She discussed the concept "repeat to complete" regarding my interactions with my husband. I don't fully understand what that means yet, other than I'm reenacting what I saw in my childhood, in my adult life. And, she said, I now have an opportunity to heal and NOT repeat what my dad did. I can bring out another outcome, and break the cycle.
I am seeing their nurse practitioner tonight at 6 p to discuss my medication issues. I will let you know what happens after that appointment.
Oh, the acupuncture. Holy moly. That was awesome. First of all, it's done in a spa-styled room, so I was automatically relaxed. Second, I felt the energy in my body "pull" to the very first needle he inserted in my lower back. I knew nothing about acupuncture before I went, other than the doctor and his brother are good friends of my husband. Dr. J explained a lot to me before hand, and I read a flier in the waiting room. So I had zero expectations. Feeling the energy in my body come to a tight little point was bizarre. It hurt some, when the needles went into soft spots like my waist, but mostly I didn't feel anything other than the energy concentration on some needles. The needle in the middle of my stomach hurt the worst, and there's even a bruise now. The session lasted about an hour. He did a series on my lower back for immunity, and another series that's called a GAM treatment. You'll love this--GAM stands for Great American Malady. Yeah, I think we all know what that treats.
I'm going weekly for at least 6 weeks. I cannot wait to go back. I felt relaxed and energized afterwards. It transferred into my entire Friday night and even some into the weekend. After last week, you'd think I'd have been in a ball for two days. But I wasn't. I did OK. I still didn't eat very well, and didn't exercise. BUT I am not in the toilet today, even though it's been raining since late last night and hasn't yet stopped. I am going to the gym after I finish this, before my appointment at 6.
Whether it was the acupuncture or my hormones behaving or some other cosmic force, I don't care. I'll take a semi-stable day like today for what it's worth--gold.
P.S. No weight today. Just got in a hurry & didn't weigh before my shower. I was 185.6 on Sunday, which sucks, but wasn't surprising. I could lose 4 pounds if I'd just cut out the carbs, which I'm gearing up for. Really, I am. I can feel a change coming. Plus, my husband told me today he wants to start eating an almost vegetarian diet (like his brother in Colorado is doing), and that's a huge deal. If we can both get on the same track, it will be a very good thing to have his help and support.
Friday, April 08, 2011
Chaos
Life is kicking me in the a$$ right now.
The list is stupidly long--Luke is really sick with allergies and has to go to the doctor this afternoon (day care called, he's in bad shape even with OTC eyedrops and Allegra), Sophie had to go to the doctor Monday afternoon for an infection, my husband was in the ER last night with an infection that made half his face swell up, my daughter's been very emotional all week (hormones? after effects of the accident last week?), my mom still can't drive and is not her usual Friday help or emergency back up. Oh, and the dog has allergies too that I have to give her medicine for twice a day.
I have had physical therapy appointments, therapist appointments, client appointments, an acupuncture appointment (in 45 minutes). Sophie had music lessons Tuesday night. We had kids' night at church & adult Bible study on Wednesday night. I had a funeral to make an appearance at yesterday after work (with Sophie in tow) while Mark took Luke to gymnastics. Now today, I've had both kids' schools call me with complaints about their state of being--Luke's eyes are super itchy (he already had pink eye drops and Zaditor drops and allegra today) and Sophie got hit in the stomach with a ball on the playground and can't stop crying (she told her teacher she's just very emotional and wants to go home). Mark's face is still horrible and he's in a lot of pain, and we had to cancel a client appointment that was today at 3:30; so he's totally out of commission.
AAAACCCCKKKKK!!
I cannot get a routine going to save my life.
I haven't been sleeping well, especially when my husband goes to the ER at midnight and I'm scared he's got an infection that's going to spread to his brain (yeah, I know, I can have an active imagination).
I haven't been eating well. I haven't been exercising. I've got laundry baskets full of clean clothes and hampers full of dirty clothes. The season is finally changing, and I need to buy clothes for my son who has grown like an oak tree since last summer, and I need to get my daughter's clothes out from under bed storage. My house is a disaster--the girl I was going to meet last Friday (before the accident happened) to clean my house, I still need to make new arrangements with her to come over and meet me and our house.
Our vacation (did I mention we are taking a family vacation from 5/26 - 6/5?) is less than 50 days away. We are flying to Florida for what promises to be the best trip we've all had together, but it's going to be a lot of work to get ready for it. I've never taken a family of four on a 10 day vacay on an airplane. All the reservations are booked, so we know the itinerary, but I have to plan and buy and pack. And our weekends are (seriously) already overbooked until the day we leave.
Oh, and Sophie's 10th birthday is May 25th, so I also want to plan her birthday party before we leave for Florida.
All this, while I can barely make myself move every morning because the inertia of my depression is getting worse.
Plus, I mourn the idea every day that I'm going to have to buy myself all new summer clothes. And a bathing suit. Ugh.
The one thing I'm doing for myself is keeping my doctor's appointments. I went to therapy yesterday, which confirmed that I have THE counselor that I need. We are uncovering some deep, deep stuff, in just two sessions. She's very good at her job. I don't know if I'll ever be "finished" with her, really. So much ground to cover.
And the acupuncture--well, I'm basically hoping for some miracles from those little needles. I don't really know what to expect. I don't care. I'm desperate. Any improvement will be a big step forward.
The list is stupidly long--Luke is really sick with allergies and has to go to the doctor this afternoon (day care called, he's in bad shape even with OTC eyedrops and Allegra), Sophie had to go to the doctor Monday afternoon for an infection, my husband was in the ER last night with an infection that made half his face swell up, my daughter's been very emotional all week (hormones? after effects of the accident last week?), my mom still can't drive and is not her usual Friday help or emergency back up. Oh, and the dog has allergies too that I have to give her medicine for twice a day.
I have had physical therapy appointments, therapist appointments, client appointments, an acupuncture appointment (in 45 minutes). Sophie had music lessons Tuesday night. We had kids' night at church & adult Bible study on Wednesday night. I had a funeral to make an appearance at yesterday after work (with Sophie in tow) while Mark took Luke to gymnastics. Now today, I've had both kids' schools call me with complaints about their state of being--Luke's eyes are super itchy (he already had pink eye drops and Zaditor drops and allegra today) and Sophie got hit in the stomach with a ball on the playground and can't stop crying (she told her teacher she's just very emotional and wants to go home). Mark's face is still horrible and he's in a lot of pain, and we had to cancel a client appointment that was today at 3:30; so he's totally out of commission.
AAAACCCCKKKKK!!
I cannot get a routine going to save my life.
I haven't been sleeping well, especially when my husband goes to the ER at midnight and I'm scared he's got an infection that's going to spread to his brain (yeah, I know, I can have an active imagination).
I haven't been eating well. I haven't been exercising. I've got laundry baskets full of clean clothes and hampers full of dirty clothes. The season is finally changing, and I need to buy clothes for my son who has grown like an oak tree since last summer, and I need to get my daughter's clothes out from under bed storage. My house is a disaster--the girl I was going to meet last Friday (before the accident happened) to clean my house, I still need to make new arrangements with her to come over and meet me and our house.
Our vacation (did I mention we are taking a family vacation from 5/26 - 6/5?) is less than 50 days away. We are flying to Florida for what promises to be the best trip we've all had together, but it's going to be a lot of work to get ready for it. I've never taken a family of four on a 10 day vacay on an airplane. All the reservations are booked, so we know the itinerary, but I have to plan and buy and pack. And our weekends are (seriously) already overbooked until the day we leave.
Oh, and Sophie's 10th birthday is May 25th, so I also want to plan her birthday party before we leave for Florida.
All this, while I can barely make myself move every morning because the inertia of my depression is getting worse.
Plus, I mourn the idea every day that I'm going to have to buy myself all new summer clothes. And a bathing suit. Ugh.
The one thing I'm doing for myself is keeping my doctor's appointments. I went to therapy yesterday, which confirmed that I have THE counselor that I need. We are uncovering some deep, deep stuff, in just two sessions. She's very good at her job. I don't know if I'll ever be "finished" with her, really. So much ground to cover.
And the acupuncture--well, I'm basically hoping for some miracles from those little needles. I don't really know what to expect. I don't care. I'm desperate. Any improvement will be a big step forward.
Monday, April 04, 2011
"Energy" -- Therapy - Part 2 (183.6)
Another key element that we discussed at my first therapy appointment was ENERGY.
How to find a balance....what gives me energy? what takes away energy?
The gap between my true self and the self I portray to the world sucks a lot of energy from my life. We all have such a gap, I think. I mean, if we all walked around with our hearts on our sleeves or our minds completely open to each other all the time, it would be like an episode of "The Twilight Zone." We probably all need a small gap, just to keep the world spinning.
It's just when the gap is so big that you are physically and emotionally drained from it, that it becomes a problem. My gap is huge right now; I'm spending too much energy trying to keep the gap the size that it is. The result of reconcilizing that distance should be an energy gain. And if I can gain energy then I will feel better.
But.... that's going to be a process. Finding a balance and closing the gap is not going to happen quickly. So in the mean time, where am I getting energy from? And where am I losing it?
I kept a running list on Thursday night and Friday during the day (before the car accident, which, I might add, was HUGELY energy draining, but obviously out of my control). Here it is (and it is not all inclusive. This is just what I kept track of in about a 24 hour period).
ENERGY Plus +
*Cleaned the kitchen after my therapy appointment (I had 45 minutes, and I'd left my kitchen a mess for 3 days, and the thought and sight of the kitchen drained my energy)
*Picking up the kids at day care/school gives me energy. I love seeing their happy faces when I pick them up.
*Reading one or two blogs at a time.
*Writing my blog.
*Listening to music.
*Cooking a healthy, from scratch dinner for myself (chopped veggies & chicken & stir fried them)
ENERGY Minus -
*Not eating lunch (by 5 pm hungry & tired)
*Arguing with Luke about gymnastics (after day care, he didn't want to go right then, but he still wants to go to gymnastics. I had to explain several times that we don't just NOT do something because we aren't in the mood.... I know, I need to take this same advice)
*Facebook. In many ways I love Facebook. Love it so much, it became an addiction in many ways. More often than not, it's bad for me.
*Reading too many blogs at once
*Writing (too much at once)
*Dirty, messy house
*Worrying about my messy house & all the unfinished projects
*Trying to DO too much after work (Thursday nights are gymnastics for Luke from 5:30-6:30, then I have church choir at 7 pm. I haven't been to choir in a couple of months. I want to go to choir, but I'm out of energy by 7 pm. But NOT doing choir when I'm SUPPOSED to be doing choir is energy draining. Oy.)
I have a lot of "shoulds" in my life. They are mostly, if not all, self imposed. And the shoulds are very, very energy draining.
Also, when I'm out of energy, I often do things that make it worse. Like eat fast food or junk food and lay around on the couch and watch TV. I actually feel better making good food and listening to music while I cook. The problem is, when I'm tired, the idea of doing anything but nothing is overwhelming.
Thursday after therapy I felt a lot better. Friday I felt better during the day (the sun was shining). Friday after the accident, I was toast. Saturday I was a lump all day. I could not make myself do anything but take care of kids and the dog. Sunday we all went to church, I taught my 2-3 year olds class, we all went to the grocery afterwards, I chopped & cooked fresh foods while listening to music, I ate lunch in the sunshine.
And I had a sliver of happiness that I let get snatched away by a conversation with my husbands about "shoulds." I was observing (a.k.a. complaining, I guess) about everything that needed to be done outside (deck and fence powerwashed, new outdoor table so we can eat outside, new loungechairs so we can lounge outside--table got shattered in a storm a few years ago; lounge chairs were stolen from our backyard the same year). All he heard were things that were going to cost us money; he made a snarky comment, I got mad and went in the house. We had a fight, then a disucssion, and we were OK but then I was toast again.
I ended up having a fairly productive Sunday. I slept well last night, but today was cloudy and windy and a low pressure storm system came through and sapped my energy (very sensitive to weather changes, obviously). Then when I got to work, I had an unexpected client review to do, and then while our client was here, I got a call from Sophie's teacher that she wasn't feeling well and could I come and pick her up. So, picked up Sophie, off to the doctor, then wait at the drugstore, then back to the office.
I was wiped out and instead of doing work, I wrote this blog. It made me feel a little better. Sophie & Mark & I talked for a bit about her day, and that helped me feel a little better. When I got home tonight, I cleaned my bedroom, started my laundry, cleaned the kitchen, got dinner put together, made sure Sophie did her homework, and now I'm finishing my blog.
I've still got laundry to finish (two loads of my clothes), and we are getting the kids to bed now. It was an energy sucking kind of day. But because I'm AWARE of that, and of what makes me feel better, I found a tiny bit of energy that is making me feel a tiny bit better.
Tiny steps in the right direction.
p.s. - I discovered (confirmed actually) that I can't eat any chocolate anymore if I don't want to have a headache. It was just dark chocolate; now it's any chocolate, even a small amount. I also had a burrito from Moe's Saturday, and had a horrible headach almost immediately after eating it. They advertise "all natural ingredients." I don't know what did it, but something there made me get a migraine. No mo Moe's. Or chocolate. If I want to feel good anyway. Which, yeah, I guess I do. Heck, before you know it, everything that's in a package will make me sick and I'll have to eat healthy all the time... there's a thought.
How to find a balance....what gives me energy? what takes away energy?
The gap between my true self and the self I portray to the world sucks a lot of energy from my life. We all have such a gap, I think. I mean, if we all walked around with our hearts on our sleeves or our minds completely open to each other all the time, it would be like an episode of "The Twilight Zone." We probably all need a small gap, just to keep the world spinning.
It's just when the gap is so big that you are physically and emotionally drained from it, that it becomes a problem. My gap is huge right now; I'm spending too much energy trying to keep the gap the size that it is. The result of reconcilizing that distance should be an energy gain. And if I can gain energy then I will feel better.
But.... that's going to be a process. Finding a balance and closing the gap is not going to happen quickly. So in the mean time, where am I getting energy from? And where am I losing it?
I kept a running list on Thursday night and Friday during the day (before the car accident, which, I might add, was HUGELY energy draining, but obviously out of my control). Here it is (and it is not all inclusive. This is just what I kept track of in about a 24 hour period).
ENERGY Plus +
*Cleaned the kitchen after my therapy appointment (I had 45 minutes, and I'd left my kitchen a mess for 3 days, and the thought and sight of the kitchen drained my energy)
*Picking up the kids at day care/school gives me energy. I love seeing their happy faces when I pick them up.
*Reading one or two blogs at a time.
*Writing my blog.
*Listening to music.
*Cooking a healthy, from scratch dinner for myself (chopped veggies & chicken & stir fried them)
ENERGY Minus -
*Not eating lunch (by 5 pm hungry & tired)
*Arguing with Luke about gymnastics (after day care, he didn't want to go right then, but he still wants to go to gymnastics. I had to explain several times that we don't just NOT do something because we aren't in the mood.... I know, I need to take this same advice)
*Facebook. In many ways I love Facebook. Love it so much, it became an addiction in many ways. More often than not, it's bad for me.
*Reading too many blogs at once
*Writing (too much at once)
*Dirty, messy house
*Worrying about my messy house & all the unfinished projects
*Trying to DO too much after work (Thursday nights are gymnastics for Luke from 5:30-6:30, then I have church choir at 7 pm. I haven't been to choir in a couple of months. I want to go to choir, but I'm out of energy by 7 pm. But NOT doing choir when I'm SUPPOSED to be doing choir is energy draining. Oy.)
I have a lot of "shoulds" in my life. They are mostly, if not all, self imposed. And the shoulds are very, very energy draining.
Also, when I'm out of energy, I often do things that make it worse. Like eat fast food or junk food and lay around on the couch and watch TV. I actually feel better making good food and listening to music while I cook. The problem is, when I'm tired, the idea of doing anything but nothing is overwhelming.
Thursday after therapy I felt a lot better. Friday I felt better during the day (the sun was shining). Friday after the accident, I was toast. Saturday I was a lump all day. I could not make myself do anything but take care of kids and the dog. Sunday we all went to church, I taught my 2-3 year olds class, we all went to the grocery afterwards, I chopped & cooked fresh foods while listening to music, I ate lunch in the sunshine.
And I had a sliver of happiness that I let get snatched away by a conversation with my husbands about "shoulds." I was observing (a.k.a. complaining, I guess) about everything that needed to be done outside (deck and fence powerwashed, new outdoor table so we can eat outside, new loungechairs so we can lounge outside--table got shattered in a storm a few years ago; lounge chairs were stolen from our backyard the same year). All he heard were things that were going to cost us money; he made a snarky comment, I got mad and went in the house. We had a fight, then a disucssion, and we were OK but then I was toast again.
I ended up having a fairly productive Sunday. I slept well last night, but today was cloudy and windy and a low pressure storm system came through and sapped my energy (very sensitive to weather changes, obviously). Then when I got to work, I had an unexpected client review to do, and then while our client was here, I got a call from Sophie's teacher that she wasn't feeling well and could I come and pick her up. So, picked up Sophie, off to the doctor, then wait at the drugstore, then back to the office.
I was wiped out and instead of doing work, I wrote this blog. It made me feel a little better. Sophie & Mark & I talked for a bit about her day, and that helped me feel a little better. When I got home tonight, I cleaned my bedroom, started my laundry, cleaned the kitchen, got dinner put together, made sure Sophie did her homework, and now I'm finishing my blog.
I've still got laundry to finish (two loads of my clothes), and we are getting the kids to bed now. It was an energy sucking kind of day. But because I'm AWARE of that, and of what makes me feel better, I found a tiny bit of energy that is making me feel a tiny bit better.
Tiny steps in the right direction.
p.s. - I discovered (confirmed actually) that I can't eat any chocolate anymore if I don't want to have a headache. It was just dark chocolate; now it's any chocolate, even a small amount. I also had a burrito from Moe's Saturday, and had a horrible headach almost immediately after eating it. They advertise "all natural ingredients." I don't know what did it, but something there made me get a migraine. No mo Moe's. Or chocolate. If I want to feel good anyway. Which, yeah, I guess I do. Heck, before you know it, everything that's in a package will make me sick and I'll have to eat healthy all the time... there's a thought.
Friday, April 01, 2011
Friday (180.2) - Unexpected interruption
That's an understatement. Today around 2:45 pm, I got a call from my mom's phone, but instead of my mom it was a woman named Rhonda, telling me my mom and kids had been in a car accident and they were okay but going to the ER in an ambulance.
Talk about the unexpected.
I left work, drove to the hospital (which is 5 minutes from our office), called and texted and Facebook'd everyone I needed to (including cancelling dinner reservations, a nail appointment, and meeting the girl I plan to have clean my house--it was a packed afternoon, but was going to be all good stuff. I think cancelling the appointments helped me keep my stuff together while I waited to see my kids). I waited about 20 minutes in the ER waiting room until my mom & kids arrived at the hospital.
The kids walking in on their own two feet was one of the most beautiful sights ever. My Mom is really beat up--they brought her in on a stretcher with a neck collar and arm splint. They had to cut off her clothes, which she was not happy about. she has lots of bruises, a broken bone in the backside of her ribcage that just has to heal on its own, very sore muscles all over her upper body (even deep breaths hurt), massive bruising of her right arm & hand and on her left leg. But no internal injuries (CT scans all clear) and no other broken bones. She got to go home tonight with my stepdad.
My kids are fine, thank God. Sophie's really sore around her collar bone and neck. Luke doesn't seem to be hurting at all (on the contrary, he's been bouncing off the walls tonight). They were both really scared. It's Sophie's second time in the ER in a month. She was there a few weeks ago for vomiting all night from a migraine/possible stomach virus (I was up with her all night, and Mark had to take her to the ER for that trip).
The car that hit my mom turned onto the road and just didn't see her--she hit mom on the passenger side engine area. Mom could barely get her door open, so the car frame was bent. Mom said she was driving about 40 mph, and never saw the car coming. The air bag went off. Mom doesn't have any facial bruising, at least not yet.
The kids were obviously seat belted & Luke was in his booster seat. A half second difference and the car could have hit the rear passenger door & really hurt Sophie, who was on that side. We are very lucky. It could have been much, much worse.
So I'm thankful tonight to have my family all together. We're watching The Princess & The Frog. I have yet to breakdown & lose it. I'm sure that is still to come.
Talk about the unexpected.
I left work, drove to the hospital (which is 5 minutes from our office), called and texted and Facebook'd everyone I needed to (including cancelling dinner reservations, a nail appointment, and meeting the girl I plan to have clean my house--it was a packed afternoon, but was going to be all good stuff. I think cancelling the appointments helped me keep my stuff together while I waited to see my kids). I waited about 20 minutes in the ER waiting room until my mom & kids arrived at the hospital.
The kids walking in on their own two feet was one of the most beautiful sights ever. My Mom is really beat up--they brought her in on a stretcher with a neck collar and arm splint. They had to cut off her clothes, which she was not happy about. she has lots of bruises, a broken bone in the backside of her ribcage that just has to heal on its own, very sore muscles all over her upper body (even deep breaths hurt), massive bruising of her right arm & hand and on her left leg. But no internal injuries (CT scans all clear) and no other broken bones. She got to go home tonight with my stepdad.
My kids are fine, thank God. Sophie's really sore around her collar bone and neck. Luke doesn't seem to be hurting at all (on the contrary, he's been bouncing off the walls tonight). They were both really scared. It's Sophie's second time in the ER in a month. She was there a few weeks ago for vomiting all night from a migraine/possible stomach virus (I was up with her all night, and Mark had to take her to the ER for that trip).
The car that hit my mom turned onto the road and just didn't see her--she hit mom on the passenger side engine area. Mom could barely get her door open, so the car frame was bent. Mom said she was driving about 40 mph, and never saw the car coming. The air bag went off. Mom doesn't have any facial bruising, at least not yet.
The kids were obviously seat belted & Luke was in his booster seat. A half second difference and the car could have hit the rear passenger door & really hurt Sophie, who was on that side. We are very lucky. It could have been much, much worse.
So I'm thankful tonight to have my family all together. We're watching The Princess & The Frog. I have yet to breakdown & lose it. I'm sure that is still to come.
Friday - First Counseling Session, Part 1 "Compartmentalize"
(I wrote this Thursday night, and set to post Friday morning. There's a lot here. Bless you for sticking with it.)
My counseling session went very well. My counselor, Julie, connected with me in a great way, asked good questions, "saw" what many of my key issues are. I did a good job, too. I told her at first about my "boxes" and how I didn't want to get into them today. But it was a 90 minute session and doggonit, the boxes just wouldn't stay shut. That was okay, though, really. She said our minds & bodies don't let us go where we're not ready to go. If I'm ready to start working on something, even if I don't think I am, I can go there, if I'm ready. If I'm not, I won't be able to go there. (I hope that makes sense.) Before I left, she had me write down what I got from the session (strange, when she handed me the paper & pen, I felt like I was doing an assignment and hoped I was doing it right so she'd give me a good grade). It was just for me--she didn't want to see it. It's so I can remember what we talked about. I wrote down four main bullet points in her office. I've been adding to it tonight, though, as the session has been rolling through my head. There is a lot, so I'm going to break it into parts. This is Part 1.
Compartmentalize-- --Internally --Relationships
I am one person to the world (with it, got it all together); I am a completely different person when I'm all alone in my bathroom in the morning, or at night, when I'm alone on my couch with the TV and a handful of cookies (losing it, crying, no energy, nothing left to give). We kept using hand gestures--I am trying to be "up here" (hand high in the air) but in reality, after all I've been through, I really am at "down here" capacity (hand held about 12 inches below where the high hand is). The space between is HUGE right now. And it represents a deficit of energy that I'm expending, and it is taking (has taken) a toll. We have to reconcile that distance, bring the bottom up, and the top down, so I am more in balance (what Vickie calls "even," I think). So, when we get them closer together, what I show to the world is really who I am.
Also, and she found this very interesting (and you may or may not realize this), I don't share all the stuff on my blog with people "In Real Life" (IRL, that's blog parlance, right?). Only two people IRL have my blog address--my coworker (hi sweet Sara!) and my husband's niece (Kate, The Fabulous). I know they both read me occasionally, but they don't comment so I can pretend they aren't paying attention to me. Sara & I talk a lot and she gets to see parts of me I wish she didn't have to (bless her, she has to listen to me whine & complain on a sort of involuntary basis, since we share an office space and it's just the two of us). Kate & I have only really talked about my blog after my dad died; I know she's really busy and I'm guessing she doesn't spend her days perusing my blog. But she has a good idea of who I am on the inside, too.
Anyway, there's a solace and openness I find in the (relative) anonymity of my blog. I can't share it with friends, even good friends, even my husband, right now. There's to much ME in this blog for me to share with the "real world." Do you all get this, at all? Or seriously, is it just me?
Julie asked me who my "go to" person is when I'm struggling & depressed. I said, my friends on my blog. And, IRL, my husband, my mom, my sister (to a small extent, but not as much since Dad died), and my friend Debra. She asked WHY I compartmentalized my "go to" person. I said, because I am protecting them. I am protecting my husband because he has enough to deal with, and he gets some of me (I can talk to him about anything---he knows me better than I know myself sometimes) but I don't LET him in. My mom I protect (and I went from being totally composed toward the end of our session to completely losing it & blubbering like a baby) because I love my mom--she's is such a great mom & grandmother to my kids. But, I blame her & my dad for the two "boxes" I keep locked up. I BLAME her, and I don't want her to know that. I don't want to hurt her. So she doesn't get those boxes, or anything remotely close to them.
Actually, nobody gets those boxes. They've stayed nice & tight for years, where I've wanted (needed) them to be. But, apparently, all hell's breaking loose inside me after one 90 minute session, because the boxes did not stayed closed today. Apparently the boxes are all Julie's.
That's a lot for now. I have high hopes that we are going to work well together, and I'm looking forward to sharing my discoveries with you all here. Many thanks, as always, for your friendship and support. Even though I don't know you all IRL, I still consider you friends and comrades. And, many of you are THE REASON I have kept it together as long as I have.
I mean, really, after I laid it all out to Julie today, I was kind of amazed that I've managed to stay out of the loony bin, and as a bonus, have two well adjusted, loving kids, and a successful marriage of 16 years.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Do you want to be healed? (181.2)
Yesterday was a "I just wanna feel numb day" again. I think my hormones and/or medication are really, really off. I just don't feel right in the mornings and at night, and often in the late afternoon. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist on the 12th, and will ask her then. (Accupuncture is the 8th. I'm still going to physical therapy too. Good grief, that's lot of doctors trying to fix me.)
Today is my first counseling/therapy appointment. I've been looking forward to it, because I need the help so desperately, but this morning I realized that there is a LOT of stuff I've put in a nice tight lock box that I'd rather just stay there. I don't want it all dragged out in the light. And I know the only way I'm going to get better is to dig it all up. I read Vickie's post about doing deep work with her therapist NOW, after she's been in maintenance for a few years & has all her weight off. NOW is the time to get to the deep stuff, because she CAN. So, maybe, I can do the surface stuff for now & leave that lock box closed--I'm definitely not ready for it. I know it won't happen today.
I barely even know where to start today. I keep imagining the opening lines of our first conversation.... "so what brings you here to see me today?" "Ummmmm, I don't even know where to start." Do I start with my weight? My food issues? My dad's illness & death in October? My depression? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. I know it's a process--it's not going to get solved today. I guess I just feel overwhelmed at the idea of it all.
Last Sunday our pastor's sermon was powerful--it spoke to me very deeply, and it's been rattling around in me all week. He talked about the lame beggar who was by the pool at Bethsaida. Jesus asked him, "do you want to be healed?" Our pastor explored the idea of what an absurd question that is. Of course the man who can't walk wants to be healed! Why would Jesus even ask that?
Then he said, but if the beggar is healed, then his whole life will change. He won't be able to depend on others to take care of him. He won't have any excuses to wallow in misery any more. For a man who'd been dependent on others for his existence for his entire life, it's not a small thing to suddenly lose that dependence.
So, we have to ask ourselves the same thing. What is it that you want Jesus to heal in you? And, DO YOU WANT TO BE HEALED?
Our pastor told us the story of when he was in school. In elementary school he had rheumatic heart disease. He missed an entire year of middle school because he was so sick. He was told he'd never be able to participate in sports. By high school, his freshman year, he'd secretly joined the track team, telling his mom he was the manager. When his mom found out (as mom's always do) that he was running on the team, she took him to the doctor to have his heart examined. The doctor said it was remarkable--his heart looked much better, and as long as he didn't have any problems, he could continue to run and race. He was, essentially, healed.
That put him in a strange position. He wasn't a great runner. He usually came in last or next to last place. So, now that his doctor told him he was healthy and didn't have a bad heart, what excuse did he have to be a lousy runner? He was healed. And he lost the excuse to be a loser, or at least to not be the best he could be.
I keep asking God to heal me, every morning praying for help when I feel like I'm never going to get better. Then, like last night, when I'm eating ice cream at 11 pm, I ask myself--do you really want to be healed? There is so much that I blame on food & my weight. So many excuses of what I can't do, or don't do, or won't do.
Mostly, I'm afraid that being healed means I will have a great big vacuum that I can't fill with food anymore. If I don't have sugar and fat and carbs, what will I have to soothe the hurt and loneliness? I know what's supposed to go there, in that vacuum. Love, God, family, peace, hope. LOTS of intangible stuff that healthy people know how to access. Can I get there? Can I find it in myself to want to be healed? For real this time?
I told my friend Debra last night that the only time I've felt really, truly, consistently happy in the past 15 years was in 2008, and 2009, when I was thin & running regularly. Don't get me wrong--I've had (and still have) a lot of joy in my life. I have a blessed family, a loving supportive husband, and two beautiful children who give more love to me every day than I could have ever imagined I deserved. But being overweight/obese since I was 26 has shadowed a lot of that happiness, except in 2008 and 2009.
I never really gave up food as my main source of comfort in those two years. I figured out how to be just good enough, burn just enough calories and get just enough endorphins in my brain from running, to lose weight and keep it off for a while. But I didn't do any (or enough) inner work.
Jesus told the beggar after he healed him to "pick up your mat and walk." Jesus didn't want the man to have an excuse to go back to the life he'd lived before. "Be healed. Get rid of the mat. Walk into your new life with Me." I guess this time, I'm starting on the inside. Hopefully it will work it's way to the outside.
Today is my first counseling/therapy appointment. I've been looking forward to it, because I need the help so desperately, but this morning I realized that there is a LOT of stuff I've put in a nice tight lock box that I'd rather just stay there. I don't want it all dragged out in the light. And I know the only way I'm going to get better is to dig it all up. I read Vickie's post about doing deep work with her therapist NOW, after she's been in maintenance for a few years & has all her weight off. NOW is the time to get to the deep stuff, because she CAN. So, maybe, I can do the surface stuff for now & leave that lock box closed--I'm definitely not ready for it. I know it won't happen today.
I barely even know where to start today. I keep imagining the opening lines of our first conversation.... "so what brings you here to see me today?" "Ummmmm, I don't even know where to start." Do I start with my weight? My food issues? My dad's illness & death in October? My depression? Yes, yes, yes, and yes. I know it's a process--it's not going to get solved today. I guess I just feel overwhelmed at the idea of it all.
Last Sunday our pastor's sermon was powerful--it spoke to me very deeply, and it's been rattling around in me all week. He talked about the lame beggar who was by the pool at Bethsaida. Jesus asked him, "do you want to be healed?" Our pastor explored the idea of what an absurd question that is. Of course the man who can't walk wants to be healed! Why would Jesus even ask that?
Then he said, but if the beggar is healed, then his whole life will change. He won't be able to depend on others to take care of him. He won't have any excuses to wallow in misery any more. For a man who'd been dependent on others for his existence for his entire life, it's not a small thing to suddenly lose that dependence.
So, we have to ask ourselves the same thing. What is it that you want Jesus to heal in you? And, DO YOU WANT TO BE HEALED?
Our pastor told us the story of when he was in school. In elementary school he had rheumatic heart disease. He missed an entire year of middle school because he was so sick. He was told he'd never be able to participate in sports. By high school, his freshman year, he'd secretly joined the track team, telling his mom he was the manager. When his mom found out (as mom's always do) that he was running on the team, she took him to the doctor to have his heart examined. The doctor said it was remarkable--his heart looked much better, and as long as he didn't have any problems, he could continue to run and race. He was, essentially, healed.
That put him in a strange position. He wasn't a great runner. He usually came in last or next to last place. So, now that his doctor told him he was healthy and didn't have a bad heart, what excuse did he have to be a lousy runner? He was healed. And he lost the excuse to be a loser, or at least to not be the best he could be.
I keep asking God to heal me, every morning praying for help when I feel like I'm never going to get better. Then, like last night, when I'm eating ice cream at 11 pm, I ask myself--do you really want to be healed? There is so much that I blame on food & my weight. So many excuses of what I can't do, or don't do, or won't do.
Mostly, I'm afraid that being healed means I will have a great big vacuum that I can't fill with food anymore. If I don't have sugar and fat and carbs, what will I have to soothe the hurt and loneliness? I know what's supposed to go there, in that vacuum. Love, God, family, peace, hope. LOTS of intangible stuff that healthy people know how to access. Can I get there? Can I find it in myself to want to be healed? For real this time?
I told my friend Debra last night that the only time I've felt really, truly, consistently happy in the past 15 years was in 2008, and 2009, when I was thin & running regularly. Don't get me wrong--I've had (and still have) a lot of joy in my life. I have a blessed family, a loving supportive husband, and two beautiful children who give more love to me every day than I could have ever imagined I deserved. But being overweight/obese since I was 26 has shadowed a lot of that happiness, except in 2008 and 2009.
I never really gave up food as my main source of comfort in those two years. I figured out how to be just good enough, burn just enough calories and get just enough endorphins in my brain from running, to lose weight and keep it off for a while. But I didn't do any (or enough) inner work.
Jesus told the beggar after he healed him to "pick up your mat and walk." Jesus didn't want the man to have an excuse to go back to the life he'd lived before. "Be healed. Get rid of the mat. Walk into your new life with Me." I guess this time, I'm starting on the inside. Hopefully it will work it's way to the outside.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Tuesday afternoon (181.2) ramble, ramble, ramble.
It's almost time to go home from work, and I wanted to write because I've had a rough day. And I think the day has been hard b/c yesterday afternoon was so hard. And because I still haven't gotten enough sleep (although I'm sleeping better with melatonin now). This is totally stream of consciousness so feel free to skip it. :) Seriously. It's a brain dump. I won't be offended. Skip to the last paragraph to find out about my arm & back injury, if you'd like. And hopefully I'll see you again soon and have a lot less garbage to spew.
OK.... let the Ramble Begin. Last night I took my meds about 9:30, and was sleepy by 10:30 but I felt like I needed to blog b/c I wanted to eat. So I wrote a little on my iPod, felt better, and then watched some of "Mildred Pearce," which is a mini series on one of the cable channels, I think.
My husband is watching it. He will not go to sleep without watching TV (which drives me nuts). I've been trying to sleep in my bed, as opposed to the couch, because it's more comfortable and it's my bed too, and some nights I get sucked into what he is watching. Most nights, I put on my sleep mask and, if the TV is too loud, I put in my earbuds & listen to ocean waves on my iPod until I fall asleep.
But last night, I watched about 30 minutes of this TV show, which culminated with a little girl dying, and it upset me. I knew she was going to die--this was sort of a flashback and Mark had been upset the night before by the show where the girl had died. I don't know why I kept watching.... because I love Kate Winslet, I guess. So, anyway, I fell asleep fairly quickly but it was almost midnight.
At 1 am my son came to our room, wanting to sleep with us, which he rarely does but is starting to do more often. I let him because he seemed scared, like he'd had a bad dream. Otherwise I don't let the kids sleep with us except on rare special occasions. It interrupted my sleep all night, because he's 5 years old and squirmy, and because we only have a queen sized bed.
Then I was up at 6 am to get some work done that I couldn't finish yesterday, for a meeting Mark had today at 10:30 am with clients. I still had work to finish for the meeting when I got to the office at 9. I hurried, was stressed out, got it finished as usual, but then I was DONE. I messed around with finding a back pack online for almost an hour. I found one, but the process wore me out even more.* I like to get in & get out when I'm shopping, even on line. But finding a bag for my 17" laptop was a chore.
What was worse, around 10:30 am I started to feel like I was going to throw up. I got a headache and just generally felt horrible. It dawned on me that it was the McD's wild berry smoothie I had stopped and gotten on the way in to work. I got a large, drank most of it, and then realized much too late that whatever they put in there (loads & loads of sugar, surprise surprise) was making me sick. It's not the first time a drink from McD's has given me a headache. I can't drink their McCafe coffees. They give me horrible headaches, even though Starbucks doesn't (I make espresso at home now and haven't had a Starbucks in months). I thought I was OK with the smoothies. I've had them probably about 4 or 5 times this year and they haven't really bothered me & I've thought of them as a "healthier" choice. Ha. I pulled up the ingredients & nutrition info online today. Never again will I get one of those things. Almost 70 grams of sugar in a large berry smoothie. Good grief, no wonder I was feeling sick.
So then lunch was a salad & some soup from Zoup! And we had a meeting at 1:30 pm at the office for a church committee. The meeting was fine, except I felt guilty most of the time because we need a chairperson, and no one else can do it, and I feel like people think I *should* be able to do it, but I just can't right now. I barely have the capacity to function as it is. I'm so behind at work and at home. I get one or two things done a day & that's it. I can't imagine adding the responsibility of this committee on top of my life right now, even though it's not *that much* work. It's the idea of failing at yet something else, that I just can't handle.
The meeting was over at 2:45 or so. I finished my daily performance report work (which takes about an hour or so every day), and then the rest of the day I've been on Facebook catching up with people, and that's just made me mad. Too many links to stories (political and food related) that piss me off. Too many happy people working out and showing off their running medals and their fabulous vacations. A lot of sick & unhappy people, too, that I commiserate with. Most of the time FB makes me feel connected to people. Today wasn't that kind of day.
My favorite radio station has been talking about how some scientists have proven that comfort food--even just the thought of comfort food--can make us feel better, feel less lonely. DUH. They are celebrating it and think it's funny. It's making me mad. Everything is making me mad or pissy or feeling like Poor Me. Ugh.
I need something to feel better. I don't even want food. I just want to feel better.
The sun isn't around today. It's cloudy & cold. I had hoped to do some kind of exercise today, even brought my gym bag in the car. Now, it seems like an impossibility to even attempt to move. I need to be in my bed under my comforter. Or in a hole somewhere.
Instead, I think I'm going to pick up my kids. That is almost always the best part of my day. My son and my daughter looking at me with a happy smile, ready to go home. Hopefully I can keep it together enough for dinner and baths tonight.
*My arm and back problems are all related to my work environment and (we figured out yesterday) the bags I carry my laptop and other junk in. The nerves in my arm were messed up from the 20-30 pounds I carry in the crook of my left arm every day. When I had strep last week, I didn't carry anything for 6 full days, and my arm got immensely better.
My neck and back also stopped hurting because I wasn't looking down at my laptop at work. I had elevated my laptop already and gotten an external keyboard, but I hadn't put the laptop up high enough apparently. Monday I worked only 4 hours & my neck was killing me. I figured out I was still looking down enough (even though it was very slight) to do damage. I put a box under the notebook riser, and that is working today. No neck pain, no back pain. I bought a new backpack for my laptop and junk, so the weight is where my PT said it was supposed to be.
My leather satchel doctor-bag handbag is now going in the bottom of my closet. It's how we figured out the cause of the nerve damage, though--I had it at my appointment yesterday, she saw me put it on my elbow bend, and said that's the worst purse I could carry. I made the 30 pound a day on my left arm connection and voila! Injury solved. At least I don't need an MRI. I just need a Physical Therapist to follow me around all day & tell me what else I'm doing with my body that I'm going to regret in another few years.
OK.... let the Ramble Begin. Last night I took my meds about 9:30, and was sleepy by 10:30 but I felt like I needed to blog b/c I wanted to eat. So I wrote a little on my iPod, felt better, and then watched some of "Mildred Pearce," which is a mini series on one of the cable channels, I think.
My husband is watching it. He will not go to sleep without watching TV (which drives me nuts). I've been trying to sleep in my bed, as opposed to the couch, because it's more comfortable and it's my bed too, and some nights I get sucked into what he is watching. Most nights, I put on my sleep mask and, if the TV is too loud, I put in my earbuds & listen to ocean waves on my iPod until I fall asleep.
But last night, I watched about 30 minutes of this TV show, which culminated with a little girl dying, and it upset me. I knew she was going to die--this was sort of a flashback and Mark had been upset the night before by the show where the girl had died. I don't know why I kept watching.... because I love Kate Winslet, I guess. So, anyway, I fell asleep fairly quickly but it was almost midnight.
At 1 am my son came to our room, wanting to sleep with us, which he rarely does but is starting to do more often. I let him because he seemed scared, like he'd had a bad dream. Otherwise I don't let the kids sleep with us except on rare special occasions. It interrupted my sleep all night, because he's 5 years old and squirmy, and because we only have a queen sized bed.
Then I was up at 6 am to get some work done that I couldn't finish yesterday, for a meeting Mark had today at 10:30 am with clients. I still had work to finish for the meeting when I got to the office at 9. I hurried, was stressed out, got it finished as usual, but then I was DONE. I messed around with finding a back pack online for almost an hour. I found one, but the process wore me out even more.* I like to get in & get out when I'm shopping, even on line. But finding a bag for my 17" laptop was a chore.
What was worse, around 10:30 am I started to feel like I was going to throw up. I got a headache and just generally felt horrible. It dawned on me that it was the McD's wild berry smoothie I had stopped and gotten on the way in to work. I got a large, drank most of it, and then realized much too late that whatever they put in there (loads & loads of sugar, surprise surprise) was making me sick. It's not the first time a drink from McD's has given me a headache. I can't drink their McCafe coffees. They give me horrible headaches, even though Starbucks doesn't (I make espresso at home now and haven't had a Starbucks in months). I thought I was OK with the smoothies. I've had them probably about 4 or 5 times this year and they haven't really bothered me & I've thought of them as a "healthier" choice. Ha. I pulled up the ingredients & nutrition info online today. Never again will I get one of those things. Almost 70 grams of sugar in a large berry smoothie. Good grief, no wonder I was feeling sick.
So then lunch was a salad & some soup from Zoup! And we had a meeting at 1:30 pm at the office for a church committee. The meeting was fine, except I felt guilty most of the time because we need a chairperson, and no one else can do it, and I feel like people think I *should* be able to do it, but I just can't right now. I barely have the capacity to function as it is. I'm so behind at work and at home. I get one or two things done a day & that's it. I can't imagine adding the responsibility of this committee on top of my life right now, even though it's not *that much* work. It's the idea of failing at yet something else, that I just can't handle.
The meeting was over at 2:45 or so. I finished my daily performance report work (which takes about an hour or so every day), and then the rest of the day I've been on Facebook catching up with people, and that's just made me mad. Too many links to stories (political and food related) that piss me off. Too many happy people working out and showing off their running medals and their fabulous vacations. A lot of sick & unhappy people, too, that I commiserate with. Most of the time FB makes me feel connected to people. Today wasn't that kind of day.
My favorite radio station has been talking about how some scientists have proven that comfort food--even just the thought of comfort food--can make us feel better, feel less lonely. DUH. They are celebrating it and think it's funny. It's making me mad. Everything is making me mad or pissy or feeling like Poor Me. Ugh.
I need something to feel better. I don't even want food. I just want to feel better.
The sun isn't around today. It's cloudy & cold. I had hoped to do some kind of exercise today, even brought my gym bag in the car. Now, it seems like an impossibility to even attempt to move. I need to be in my bed under my comforter. Or in a hole somewhere.
Instead, I think I'm going to pick up my kids. That is almost always the best part of my day. My son and my daughter looking at me with a happy smile, ready to go home. Hopefully I can keep it together enough for dinner and baths tonight.
*My arm and back problems are all related to my work environment and (we figured out yesterday) the bags I carry my laptop and other junk in. The nerves in my arm were messed up from the 20-30 pounds I carry in the crook of my left arm every day. When I had strep last week, I didn't carry anything for 6 full days, and my arm got immensely better.
My neck and back also stopped hurting because I wasn't looking down at my laptop at work. I had elevated my laptop already and gotten an external keyboard, but I hadn't put the laptop up high enough apparently. Monday I worked only 4 hours & my neck was killing me. I figured out I was still looking down enough (even though it was very slight) to do damage. I put a box under the notebook riser, and that is working today. No neck pain, no back pain. I bought a new backpack for my laptop and junk, so the weight is where my PT said it was supposed to be.
My leather satchel doctor-bag handbag is now going in the bottom of my closet. It's how we figured out the cause of the nerve damage, though--I had it at my appointment yesterday, she saw me put it on my elbow bend, and said that's the worst purse I could carry. I made the 30 pound a day on my left arm connection and voila! Injury solved. At least I don't need an MRI. I just need a Physical Therapist to follow me around all day & tell me what else I'm doing with my body that I'm going to regret in another few years.
Monday's post on Tuesday - 182.8
(I wrote this Monday night around 11 pm from my iPod, but it wouldn't post for some reason. So here it is, Tuesday morning, and even though I wrote to keep from eating, I might was well put it out there today.) Having been off work most of last week, I had a crazy day today. It was supposed to also include my physical therapy appointment, which i went to, and a simple appointment for our dog to get a heart worm shot and then a grooming appointment. Best laid plans...Luke had pink eye this afternoon and I had to pick him up right after my PT appt. We got to the Vet at 4:30, left at 5:30 with a diagnosis of ear infections and allergy testing (for the dog .... She's as much work as the kids sometimes), then to Walgreens to get an $80 bottle of pink eye meds. Mark picked up Sophie from school, but I still didn't get home until 6 pm. My prayer group friend Donna was coming over at 7. So. Not much time to her kids and myself fed. But we did it. I had a nice talk and the kids were great while the Grown Ups Ladies talked. But I am now fried and pretty strung out and have to get up early for work tomorrow I didn't get done today. But I'm not on the couch watching tv or eating. At least that's something.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday - 182.6 And No Crying!
I didn't cry today. That's kind of a big deal. I've been crying a lot lately. Part of it is I finally started my period today. I freaking hate my up & down hormones. I swear, when Sophie hits puberty, I pity my husband & son. The other part of it is, we have had a great weekend. We saw the 3rd Narnia movie last night with the kids, & it was WONDERFUL. Best one yet. Not at all scary, even for my 5 year old (he hasn't seen the 1st one yet--it's a bit creepy & we may wait a while longer for that one). It was intense, but not overwhelming. And oh, did I cry during the movie, but not from sadness, from pure joy. If you're a Christian, it's a must see. If you're not, well, I guess that's one reason why CS Lewis wrote his stories in the first place....to plant the seeds of faith. And, I haven't sat on the couch to watch any TV by myself all weekend. We watched a few cartoons Saturday morning (before I went to get my hair done--2 1/2 hours of bliss, and another piece of self-care I'd been putting off) and a kid's movie tonight while I was putting away groceries & getting everyone dinner (so, I only sat down to eat, and that was in the kitchen). Big, huge, monster difference NO TV makes in my life. Now it's time for bed. I've been having trouble sleeping the past several nights. I've not been going to bed with a belly full of carbs and fat, for starters. And I've got an extra 30 pounds on my body from when my Psychiatrist prescribed my xanax (plus, I'm guessing I'm starting to build a tolerance to it finally, after taking it more regularly). I am trying melatonin, on my mom's suggestion, and last night I had to take 1 mg of xanax instead of .5 mg. I used to only need .25 mg to get to sleep & stay asleep. I think I have an appt with my doctor in April, so we'll be talking about that if it's hasn't straighted out by then. Hoping to keep up this regular blog thing, in place of TV. Here's to a productive & healthy week for you all.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Saturday - Music, not TV
Listening to Stevie Wonder & other good stuff to go to sleep to. To clean the house to. To drive to. To blog to.
TV really can suck the life out of a day. Ya know? Music adds to life. I want more music in my life.
Feeling better today. Held onto that feeling that I wrote about yesterday. Didn't eat to soothe any feelings. Didn't eat at night. The feeling is still with me today.
My appetite isn't normal. It's pretty much not there. I don't know if it's a hangover from my strep throat, or if it's a little gift from the Universe. God gives graces when we least expect it sometimes. When we most need it.
Had a little break down this morning about Dad. But then it was over, and I'm having a productive day. A joyful day.
Tonight we are all going to the Japanese Hibachi place for dinner, then going to the cheap movie theater to see Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
We are supposed to get an inch of snow tonight. On top of the daffodils and Bradford pear blooms. Topsy turvy seasons, can't make up their minds. It's no bother though. The sun will be back eventually.
Sophie is sitting beside me practicing one of her songs from music lessons. It is heart breakingly appropriate. "When you smile and you sing, everything is in tune and it's Spring, and life flows along with a smile and a song."
TV really can suck the life out of a day. Ya know? Music adds to life. I want more music in my life.
Feeling better today. Held onto that feeling that I wrote about yesterday. Didn't eat to soothe any feelings. Didn't eat at night. The feeling is still with me today.
My appetite isn't normal. It's pretty much not there. I don't know if it's a hangover from my strep throat, or if it's a little gift from the Universe. God gives graces when we least expect it sometimes. When we most need it.
Had a little break down this morning about Dad. But then it was over, and I'm having a productive day. A joyful day.
Tonight we are all going to the Japanese Hibachi place for dinner, then going to the cheap movie theater to see Voyage of the Dawn Treader.
We are supposed to get an inch of snow tonight. On top of the daffodils and Bradford pear blooms. Topsy turvy seasons, can't make up their minds. It's no bother though. The sun will be back eventually.
Sophie is sitting beside me practicing one of her songs from music lessons. It is heart breakingly appropriate. "When you smile and you sing, everything is in tune and it's Spring, and life flows along with a smile and a song."
Friday, March 25, 2011
Stevie Wonder Therapy
So this week has been a bust. Sunday I spent on the couch, depressed, "hormonal," and basically out of it all day long. The day was filled with sloth, food, and self-loathing.
Then Monday morning around 5 a.m., I woke up freezing cold with a sore throat. I shivered my way to the kitchen for a handful of ibuprofen, put on some warmer PJs, and got under the comforter. I was so cold and achey I figured I had gotten the flu. It crossed my mind more than once that my lifestyle recently was literally making me sick.
It's spring break here, so Sophie was off school, but thankfully my Mom*** retired at the end of January so she came and picked up the kids & kept them at her house until Wednesday.
So I spent Monday in bed, alternatively freezing and sweating. And crying. I was miserable and alone (Mark had to work after all).
Then Tuesday I could barely talk, barely swallow, and when I looked at my tonsils with a flashlight I knew I didn't have the flu. It was a nasty case of strep throat. I called my doctor's office again (I'd called Monday to confirm that my symptoms were probably viral, but at that point I hadn't bothered to look at my throat) and went in that afternoon. Sure enough, confirmed strep. I got a shot of antibiotic there, and amoxicilin for 10 days.
By Tuesday night I wasn't scary-feverish any more. By Wednesday I could get up and walk around and clean the kitchen and take care of the kids, more or less.
Thursday morning I tried to get ready for work but after I half-way dried my hair & couldn't even manage that without sitting down, I gave up and put my PJs on. Thursday night was a lot better, although I still felt a bit sluggish.
This morning I slept until 9, but I managed to get ready for work and come in around 11:30. I feel human again, although I do still have several big white spots still on my tonsils. I called my doctor's office yesterday and asked the nurse about being referred to an ENT. I had strep 3 times last year. I just seem to get it way too often. And a week of being this sick just is not OK. We'll see what happens.*
Anyway....all my appointments had to be cancelled**, so no therapist, no PT for my arm (although that's better because I haven't used it for basically a week), no nothing but being miserable.
Five days of lying around, feeling horrible, feeling sorry for yourself---gets really freaking old.
So, last night I had a tiny little epiphany. We'd put the kids to bed, and Mark & I were watching American Idol. The contestants this year are amazing. They did Motown songs this week, which I really like, even though I don't ever listen to it.
Stevie Wonder was a special guest last night, and he always brings such joy to the stage. Something, somehow, clicked inside my head. YOU CAN HAVE THAT JOY, TOO.
Maybe it was shear mental exhaustion from being sedentary for so long. Maybe my hormone cycle is back to the happy hormones. Who knows. All is know is I woke up today and felt better and downloaded a bunch of Stevie Wonder songs to my iPod. And I've been listening to him all day.
Another not-so-little epiphany this week. I watched "Eat Pray Love" Tuesday. I read the book years ago--loved it--so I enjoyed the movie. In one scene, Liz tells Richard from Texas that she misses her ex-husband. He tells her something that has been rolling around in my head ever since. I had to pull the whole quote, because it really is amazing.
"So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it. You’re just afraid to let go of the last bits of David because then you’ll be really alone, and Liz Gilbert is scared to death of what will happen if she’s really alone. But here’s what you gotta understand, Groceries. If you clear out all that space in your mind that you’re using right now to obsess about this guy, you’ll have a vacuum there, an open spot – a doorway. And guess what the universe will do with the doorway? It will rush in – God will rush in – and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed. So stop using David to block that door. Let it go.”
I can remove "David" and fill in the blank with all the crap that fills my head--my Dad, my weight gain, my food addiction, my childhood, my feelings of inadequacy, guilt over the most stupid stuff ever... It's a wonder I can even function at the level I do.
This is heavy duty stuff. Transformational. Feel it. Send it love & light. Then DROP IT. I can't fight the thoughts. They still come. Little by little, the past day or so, I've been testing it out. I think it's helping.
I've got a lot of crap to empty out to get a vacuum, an open spot, a doorway. But I've got to start sometime. Might as well start today.
*I know I'm a bit old to get tonsils and adenoids out, but here's the deal. I can't SLEEP because these diseased organs are so swollen I am snoring before I even fall asleep. It's one thing to keep your spouse awake from snoring. It's quite another when you keep yourself awake. Seriously, I was crying Tuesday and Wednesday because I was so tired but couldn't get to sleep. Last night I woke myself up from snoring, and just moved to the couch before I woke up my husband.
**Today I rescheduled my appointment with my therapist for Thursday. I also called & got a hair appointment. I haven't had my hair cut for months. God is looking out for me--my stylist had a cancellation for tomorrow morning at 10 for a cut and a color. Seriously, when doest that happen? So blessed.
***I realize that I am so very lucky to have a mom who can swoop in and take care of my kids. Luke had strep too, even though his throat wasn't sore. He had a high fever Monday night; she took him to the doctor Tuesday. She also came and got all my laundry yesterday and brought it back today. I know, I know. She's the best Mom ever.
Then Monday morning around 5 a.m., I woke up freezing cold with a sore throat. I shivered my way to the kitchen for a handful of ibuprofen, put on some warmer PJs, and got under the comforter. I was so cold and achey I figured I had gotten the flu. It crossed my mind more than once that my lifestyle recently was literally making me sick.
It's spring break here, so Sophie was off school, but thankfully my Mom*** retired at the end of January so she came and picked up the kids & kept them at her house until Wednesday.
So I spent Monday in bed, alternatively freezing and sweating. And crying. I was miserable and alone (Mark had to work after all).
Then Tuesday I could barely talk, barely swallow, and when I looked at my tonsils with a flashlight I knew I didn't have the flu. It was a nasty case of strep throat. I called my doctor's office again (I'd called Monday to confirm that my symptoms were probably viral, but at that point I hadn't bothered to look at my throat) and went in that afternoon. Sure enough, confirmed strep. I got a shot of antibiotic there, and amoxicilin for 10 days.
By Tuesday night I wasn't scary-feverish any more. By Wednesday I could get up and walk around and clean the kitchen and take care of the kids, more or less.
Thursday morning I tried to get ready for work but after I half-way dried my hair & couldn't even manage that without sitting down, I gave up and put my PJs on. Thursday night was a lot better, although I still felt a bit sluggish.
This morning I slept until 9, but I managed to get ready for work and come in around 11:30. I feel human again, although I do still have several big white spots still on my tonsils. I called my doctor's office yesterday and asked the nurse about being referred to an ENT. I had strep 3 times last year. I just seem to get it way too often. And a week of being this sick just is not OK. We'll see what happens.*
Anyway....all my appointments had to be cancelled**, so no therapist, no PT for my arm (although that's better because I haven't used it for basically a week), no nothing but being miserable.
Five days of lying around, feeling horrible, feeling sorry for yourself---gets really freaking old.
So, last night I had a tiny little epiphany. We'd put the kids to bed, and Mark & I were watching American Idol. The contestants this year are amazing. They did Motown songs this week, which I really like, even though I don't ever listen to it.
Stevie Wonder was a special guest last night, and he always brings such joy to the stage. Something, somehow, clicked inside my head. YOU CAN HAVE THAT JOY, TOO.
Maybe it was shear mental exhaustion from being sedentary for so long. Maybe my hormone cycle is back to the happy hormones. Who knows. All is know is I woke up today and felt better and downloaded a bunch of Stevie Wonder songs to my iPod. And I've been listening to him all day.
Another not-so-little epiphany this week. I watched "Eat Pray Love" Tuesday. I read the book years ago--loved it--so I enjoyed the movie. In one scene, Liz tells Richard from Texas that she misses her ex-husband. He tells her something that has been rolling around in my head ever since. I had to pull the whole quote, because it really is amazing.
"So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it. You’re just afraid to let go of the last bits of David because then you’ll be really alone, and Liz Gilbert is scared to death of what will happen if she’s really alone. But here’s what you gotta understand, Groceries. If you clear out all that space in your mind that you’re using right now to obsess about this guy, you’ll have a vacuum there, an open spot – a doorway. And guess what the universe will do with the doorway? It will rush in – God will rush in – and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed. So stop using David to block that door. Let it go.”
I can remove "David" and fill in the blank with all the crap that fills my head--my Dad, my weight gain, my food addiction, my childhood, my feelings of inadequacy, guilt over the most stupid stuff ever... It's a wonder I can even function at the level I do.
This is heavy duty stuff. Transformational. Feel it. Send it love & light. Then DROP IT. I can't fight the thoughts. They still come. Little by little, the past day or so, I've been testing it out. I think it's helping.
I've got a lot of crap to empty out to get a vacuum, an open spot, a doorway. But I've got to start sometime. Might as well start today.
*I know I'm a bit old to get tonsils and adenoids out, but here's the deal. I can't SLEEP because these diseased organs are so swollen I am snoring before I even fall asleep. It's one thing to keep your spouse awake from snoring. It's quite another when you keep yourself awake. Seriously, I was crying Tuesday and Wednesday because I was so tired but couldn't get to sleep. Last night I woke myself up from snoring, and just moved to the couch before I woke up my husband.
**Today I rescheduled my appointment with my therapist for Thursday. I also called & got a hair appointment. I haven't had my hair cut for months. God is looking out for me--my stylist had a cancellation for tomorrow morning at 10 for a cut and a color. Seriously, when doest that happen? So blessed.
***I realize that I am so very lucky to have a mom who can swoop in and take care of my kids. Luke had strep too, even though his throat wasn't sore. He had a high fever Monday night; she took him to the doctor Tuesday. She also came and got all my laundry yesterday and brought it back today. I know, I know. She's the best Mom ever.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Not on track...
Run over by the train, is more like it.
I've been to see a physical therapist four times about my back, which turned out to be not just my back. I have medial and ulnar nerve damage in my left arm. I have lost more than half my grip strength. I have next to no pronator strength. The PT isn't 100% sure, but thinks I could also have damage to the C5 disk in my spine. I'm wearing a brace on my arm during the day and at night, and doing physical therapy exercises at home, and seeing the PT twice a week. My upper back pain has subsided quite a bit in the past week; my arm hurts like the devil.
Unfortunately, my 5 minutes a day of PT exercises has been the extent of my physical exertion for the last three weeks.
I really didn't think it could get much worse, but it has. I weighed 186 today. I've been weepy and depressed, and pushing it down with food. I finally broke down and bought some clothes last week in size 14s, and in some ways I felt like it was a gift to myself--to acknowledge what IS, and to allow myself to have something to wear that actually fits. In other ways, it was a mental defeat. I never dreamed I'd be back here again.
I finally, just yesterday, called and made an appointment with a counselor. The office I'm going to is well respected and I asked specifically for someone who deals with eating disorders and depression. My appointment is Wednesday.
I also am going to have someone start cleaning my house twice a month. I found a girl who cleans for another lady in our office building, who charges $15 an hour. Having my house clean will be a huge help.
I have so many projects and responsibilities that are hanging over my head unfinished....they mentally push me down and I often just feel helpless, like nothing ever is going to get done. Instead of finding it in myself to take baby steps and chip away a little at a time, I feel overwhelmed and do nothing. Then I feel guilty. I feel like a failure. Because I've got scrapbook stuff strung out over the living room, I've got estate stuff for my Dad that's still not done, I've got Christmas snowmen in my family room and dining room (yes, still), I've got mail at work that hasn't been opened for two months, I've got a printer at home that still isn't set up yet.... and more and more and more.
I know this is very unhealthy. I know it's related to my food issues. I'm hoping I go to the counselor next week and we can figure out how I can be "fixed." Because, despite what I hear on the Growing Human Kindness CD's, I can't convince myself I'm not broken. That's how I feel. Broken. Something's wrong, down deep, and it needs to be fixed. Clearly, I'm not in any position to fix myself right now.
The failure thing is a big issue for me right now. I can't hide my weight gain any more. I'm a walking statistic--I've regained the majority of my lost weight--and I feel like everyone I know, who gushed & praised & said how great I looked, now feels sorry for me or wonders how I've let myself get back to this size again. Whether they are thinking that or not, and regardless of how it doesn't matter what other people think, this is what I think they are thinking. And it makes me want to hide, and not participate in life.
More than anything else, that's why I finally called the counselor. I can't NOT live my life. I've been there too many times, and it sucks. I don't want to live like this any more. I just want to feel normal again.
I've been to see a physical therapist four times about my back, which turned out to be not just my back. I have medial and ulnar nerve damage in my left arm. I have lost more than half my grip strength. I have next to no pronator strength. The PT isn't 100% sure, but thinks I could also have damage to the C5 disk in my spine. I'm wearing a brace on my arm during the day and at night, and doing physical therapy exercises at home, and seeing the PT twice a week. My upper back pain has subsided quite a bit in the past week; my arm hurts like the devil.
Unfortunately, my 5 minutes a day of PT exercises has been the extent of my physical exertion for the last three weeks.
I really didn't think it could get much worse, but it has. I weighed 186 today. I've been weepy and depressed, and pushing it down with food. I finally broke down and bought some clothes last week in size 14s, and in some ways I felt like it was a gift to myself--to acknowledge what IS, and to allow myself to have something to wear that actually fits. In other ways, it was a mental defeat. I never dreamed I'd be back here again.
I finally, just yesterday, called and made an appointment with a counselor. The office I'm going to is well respected and I asked specifically for someone who deals with eating disorders and depression. My appointment is Wednesday.
I also am going to have someone start cleaning my house twice a month. I found a girl who cleans for another lady in our office building, who charges $15 an hour. Having my house clean will be a huge help.
I have so many projects and responsibilities that are hanging over my head unfinished....they mentally push me down and I often just feel helpless, like nothing ever is going to get done. Instead of finding it in myself to take baby steps and chip away a little at a time, I feel overwhelmed and do nothing. Then I feel guilty. I feel like a failure. Because I've got scrapbook stuff strung out over the living room, I've got estate stuff for my Dad that's still not done, I've got Christmas snowmen in my family room and dining room (yes, still), I've got mail at work that hasn't been opened for two months, I've got a printer at home that still isn't set up yet.... and more and more and more.
I know this is very unhealthy. I know it's related to my food issues. I'm hoping I go to the counselor next week and we can figure out how I can be "fixed." Because, despite what I hear on the Growing Human Kindness CD's, I can't convince myself I'm not broken. That's how I feel. Broken. Something's wrong, down deep, and it needs to be fixed. Clearly, I'm not in any position to fix myself right now.
The failure thing is a big issue for me right now. I can't hide my weight gain any more. I'm a walking statistic--I've regained the majority of my lost weight--and I feel like everyone I know, who gushed & praised & said how great I looked, now feels sorry for me or wonders how I've let myself get back to this size again. Whether they are thinking that or not, and regardless of how it doesn't matter what other people think, this is what I think they are thinking. And it makes me want to hide, and not participate in life.
More than anything else, that's why I finally called the counselor. I can't NOT live my life. I've been there too many times, and it sucks. I don't want to live like this any more. I just want to feel normal again.
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Saturday - off again, on again (181.4)
It's not been a great couple of weeks. Nothing horrible, just the usual.
I had a bad bout of PMS--very moody, didn't want to do anything or see anyone, ate too much for comfort. That lasted a couple of days, then I pulled out of it and felt like I was getting back on track.
Then I injured my upper back (between my shoulder and neck) and I've been in pretty serious pain for this past week. It started as a simple pain when I'd turn my head wrong. It hurt a little, and I thought I'd work it out with a shiatsu massage pillow.
Well, apparently I just made it much, much worse, because the next day (Sunday) my pain was constant and deep and severe. Enough that Monday & Tuesday at work I cried at my desk. Wednesday I took the whole day off. I went to a chiropractor-ish guy and got adjusted, & he said my chest muscles are tight so my back in compensating and I slump forward too much and it's making my back muscles a mess.
I felt better after I left--for about 30 minutes, then the pain was back. I went to the after hours clinic to get some pain meds, and the doctor gave me a muscle relaxer, a steroid pack, tylenol 3, and 800 mg ibuprofen (which I was already taking on my own---200mg x 4 pills, duh dude!). The pain was almost gone this morning, but it came back this afternoon, although it's not as bad as it was. If it's not better by Monday or Tuesday, I'm going to my real doctor.
Anyway, I let it derail me. Mostly because my energy has been directed at just surviving my pain-filled days without crumpling into a ball of helplessness. I will never, ever doubt or question someone who has chronic pain (like, my husband) again.
And I of course gained weight. A stupid amount of weight. 5 pounds worth. I don't even know HOW I ate enough to gain 5 pounds. On Thursday, I weighed my heaviest since 2007 - 183.6. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
So, I'm back at it. I started a new tracking spreadsheet again at the end of January. My old one was lost when my hard drive died. I keep track of workouts, weight, mood, night eating, TTOM, and whether or not I've taken my vitamins. It's invaluable information, to look back and see "OH THAT'S WHY" the scale went up (or down). I also started earnestly following my LAWL plan on Friday....again. Today I've done well. I'm planning on the same tomorrow. 2 or 3 days strung together isn't going to cut it, though. I've got to get consistent, and get consistent NOW, before I weigh 200 pounds again.
I've decided I am going to see a therapist, but I need to shop around the city to see who does eating disorders treatment. I wasn't crazy about my last therapist, who is in my psychiatrist's office, and I don't want to go back to her. I don't want to put off seeing someone much longer. My PMS will return in 3 weeks and I'll be right back to being a weepy, sugar-filled mess before I know it. I don't want that to happen again.
Despite the rain and despite my back pain, mentally I feel pretty good today. Heck, I'll take an "up" mood any day. Doesn't matter why or how. I'm just enjoying my family time and gearing up for a good day tomorrow.
I had a bad bout of PMS--very moody, didn't want to do anything or see anyone, ate too much for comfort. That lasted a couple of days, then I pulled out of it and felt like I was getting back on track.
Then I injured my upper back (between my shoulder and neck) and I've been in pretty serious pain for this past week. It started as a simple pain when I'd turn my head wrong. It hurt a little, and I thought I'd work it out with a shiatsu massage pillow.
Well, apparently I just made it much, much worse, because the next day (Sunday) my pain was constant and deep and severe. Enough that Monday & Tuesday at work I cried at my desk. Wednesday I took the whole day off. I went to a chiropractor-ish guy and got adjusted, & he said my chest muscles are tight so my back in compensating and I slump forward too much and it's making my back muscles a mess.
I felt better after I left--for about 30 minutes, then the pain was back. I went to the after hours clinic to get some pain meds, and the doctor gave me a muscle relaxer, a steroid pack, tylenol 3, and 800 mg ibuprofen (which I was already taking on my own---200mg x 4 pills, duh dude!). The pain was almost gone this morning, but it came back this afternoon, although it's not as bad as it was. If it's not better by Monday or Tuesday, I'm going to my real doctor.
Anyway, I let it derail me. Mostly because my energy has been directed at just surviving my pain-filled days without crumpling into a ball of helplessness. I will never, ever doubt or question someone who has chronic pain (like, my husband) again.
And I of course gained weight. A stupid amount of weight. 5 pounds worth. I don't even know HOW I ate enough to gain 5 pounds. On Thursday, I weighed my heaviest since 2007 - 183.6. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
So, I'm back at it. I started a new tracking spreadsheet again at the end of January. My old one was lost when my hard drive died. I keep track of workouts, weight, mood, night eating, TTOM, and whether or not I've taken my vitamins. It's invaluable information, to look back and see "OH THAT'S WHY" the scale went up (or down). I also started earnestly following my LAWL plan on Friday....again. Today I've done well. I'm planning on the same tomorrow. 2 or 3 days strung together isn't going to cut it, though. I've got to get consistent, and get consistent NOW, before I weigh 200 pounds again.
I've decided I am going to see a therapist, but I need to shop around the city to see who does eating disorders treatment. I wasn't crazy about my last therapist, who is in my psychiatrist's office, and I don't want to go back to her. I don't want to put off seeing someone much longer. My PMS will return in 3 weeks and I'll be right back to being a weepy, sugar-filled mess before I know it. I don't want that to happen again.
Despite the rain and despite my back pain, mentally I feel pretty good today. Heck, I'll take an "up" mood any day. Doesn't matter why or how. I'm just enjoying my family time and gearing up for a good day tomorrow.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hopeful Saturday (178.6)
I wanted to talk about Vickie’s comments about therapy to start. I totally agree with you. There’s definitely another component to this weight loss business that has nothing to do with food and exercise. The “fat head” thing is a big deal, and needs to be dealt with. That’s why I have the CD’s and the workbook and book from Karly at the Sugar Addiction website. And I guess it’s why I keep searching for the “why’s” and not just the how’s, since I know the “how’s” very well.
My big problem with a therapist right now is that we are self employed, and my individual policy with Anthem doesn’t cover mental health issues—I didn’t know this when the policy was issued (long story—it wasn’t excluded in the material I signed up with, but when the policy was approved & issued, it wasn’t included… freaking health insurance company). I found it out when my Wellbutrin was a fortune at Walgreens, the first time I had it filled through the policy. I get it filled at Sam’s now for about $40 a month. I pay my psychiatrist $150 for each visit. I’m not sure what the MSW’s charge—I need to check with my psyche’s office and see if it’s something we can afford. Even if it’s $100 a visit, I couldn’t afford more than one visit a month. Is that even worth it? (I’m asking in all serious—let me know what you think, Vickie. And this isn’t a “isn’t your mental health worth anything?” issue. We are stretched pretty thin right now; I can’t fight the bank balance, at least not at the moment.)
So, onto the hopeful stuff. I exercised 6 days in a row this week!!! I just got back from a 4 mile run—outside—and I feel like I can conquer the world. I ran the entire first mile without walking; my pace was 11:48 for that mile. That is fast for my 178.6 pound body. For every 10 pounds I lose, my pace should improve by a full minute (that’s been my experience in the past anyway).
This week alone, my pace has gone from 15 min/miles (3 miles total) on Monday to average of 12:29 min/miles today (and that was with a big ole hill during mile 2—I mean big, like, channel Jillian Michaels on my shoulder yelling at me to run until I puke or die, kind of hill. It was awesome.). I put 12.39 miles on my feet this week. Woot!
I did two 90 minute hot yoga classes this week—Thursday and Friday nights. Vickie, you’ll appreciate this… last night in standing head to knee, I was able to hold my foot & extend my leg with a flat back. My leg wasn’t straight, but it was up & out there. I can get through the whole 90 minutes now without stopping and usually only want to throw up once or twice now. I’ve found I can’t do the floor poses where we lean our heads all the way back—forget hero pose… I get dizzy and feel like I’m going to pass out. One instructor mentioned there’s a syndrome where people can’t lean their heads back because they get dizzy, and I guess that would be me. I really love these classes. They are very difficult, but at every class I’m doing better and better. They are clearly helping my endurance when I run. And my flexibility is going off the charts.
I found that I’m getting headaches from eating Thin Mints, so no more of that “crack in a box” for me. I guess it’s a blessing, really. I haven’t started the LA WL program yet. Waiting till I can get to the store tomorrow and get my food stocked & my week planned. My food is pretty good. I’m making healthy choices, not eating like mad at night, and having good breakfasts every day.
Right now, I feel like if I can keep up the working out, I’m going to be just fine. Mentally I’m doing better, in large part because of the warm sunshine that’s been blessing us, and the nearing of spring is intoxicating. Mark is happier that I’m happier, so he has a vested interest in making sure I get my time to workout every day. It’s important to have a buy-in from the husband, so he can help with the kids.
I guess Sunday will be a rest day, even though I would love to do the afternoon yoga class. But, my body needs the rest, even if my mind says GO.
Here’s hoping for continued hopeful days.
My big problem with a therapist right now is that we are self employed, and my individual policy with Anthem doesn’t cover mental health issues—I didn’t know this when the policy was issued (long story—it wasn’t excluded in the material I signed up with, but when the policy was approved & issued, it wasn’t included… freaking health insurance company). I found it out when my Wellbutrin was a fortune at Walgreens, the first time I had it filled through the policy. I get it filled at Sam’s now for about $40 a month. I pay my psychiatrist $150 for each visit. I’m not sure what the MSW’s charge—I need to check with my psyche’s office and see if it’s something we can afford. Even if it’s $100 a visit, I couldn’t afford more than one visit a month. Is that even worth it? (I’m asking in all serious—let me know what you think, Vickie. And this isn’t a “isn’t your mental health worth anything?” issue. We are stretched pretty thin right now; I can’t fight the bank balance, at least not at the moment.)
So, onto the hopeful stuff. I exercised 6 days in a row this week!!! I just got back from a 4 mile run—outside—and I feel like I can conquer the world. I ran the entire first mile without walking; my pace was 11:48 for that mile. That is fast for my 178.6 pound body. For every 10 pounds I lose, my pace should improve by a full minute (that’s been my experience in the past anyway).
This week alone, my pace has gone from 15 min/miles (3 miles total) on Monday to average of 12:29 min/miles today (and that was with a big ole hill during mile 2—I mean big, like, channel Jillian Michaels on my shoulder yelling at me to run until I puke or die, kind of hill. It was awesome.). I put 12.39 miles on my feet this week. Woot!
I did two 90 minute hot yoga classes this week—Thursday and Friday nights. Vickie, you’ll appreciate this… last night in standing head to knee, I was able to hold my foot & extend my leg with a flat back. My leg wasn’t straight, but it was up & out there. I can get through the whole 90 minutes now without stopping and usually only want to throw up once or twice now. I’ve found I can’t do the floor poses where we lean our heads all the way back—forget hero pose… I get dizzy and feel like I’m going to pass out. One instructor mentioned there’s a syndrome where people can’t lean their heads back because they get dizzy, and I guess that would be me. I really love these classes. They are very difficult, but at every class I’m doing better and better. They are clearly helping my endurance when I run. And my flexibility is going off the charts.
I found that I’m getting headaches from eating Thin Mints, so no more of that “crack in a box” for me. I guess it’s a blessing, really. I haven’t started the LA WL program yet. Waiting till I can get to the store tomorrow and get my food stocked & my week planned. My food is pretty good. I’m making healthy choices, not eating like mad at night, and having good breakfasts every day.
Right now, I feel like if I can keep up the working out, I’m going to be just fine. Mentally I’m doing better, in large part because of the warm sunshine that’s been blessing us, and the nearing of spring is intoxicating. Mark is happier that I’m happier, so he has a vested interest in making sure I get my time to workout every day. It’s important to have a buy-in from the husband, so he can help with the kids.
I guess Sunday will be a rest day, even though I would love to do the afternoon yoga class. But, my body needs the rest, even if my mind says GO.
Here’s hoping for continued hopeful days.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Wednesday Rambling Update (179.0)
So Monday, after an emotional & binge filled Sunday, I hit 180.4.
I was pretty freaking depressed Monday. I’d been doing great. I either walked/ran or did yoga 7 out of 8 days, then took the weekend off for no good reason other than I just didn’t get around to exercising. Sunday night I felt the usual looming MONDAY, unusually heavy for some reason.
I think it’s because I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders right now. A lot of unfinished business, a lot of unfinished projects, a lot of unfolded laundry. Mark isn’t much help lately—he’s taking the CFP exam on March 18 & 19th (which happens to be our 16th wedding anniversary on the 18th), and he’s studying 5-6 hours a day, on top of working and earning our income. So I’m just shy of being a single parent the past month or so.
I’m still grieving my dad, and the lack of relationship I had with him the past 10 years. I see a commercial or TV show or movie about fathers & daughters, & it gets to me. I ran yesterday outside & was pushing pretty hard, and that always brings out emotions. I started crying and couldn’t stop, so I had to quit running after only 30 minutes.
Even though I had a crappy food filled weekend, I’m not giving up. I’m listening to my sugar addiction CDs, I’m working on eating right, I’m working out and training for a half marathon on May 7th.
I ordered LA Weight Loss material from their website last week. It worked in the past. It will work again. I need a program I can stick with and not have to count anything (like points or calories), & that’s been the only thing that’s done it for me… ever. The materials & accompanying LA Lite bars & Take Off juice should arrive today.
I still haven’t bought any clothes, aside from one pair of capri pants from Goodwill that don’t really fit me right (they are 14W, too baggy in the crotch area) and a couple of XL tops from Goodwill. I’m wearing the same two pairs of jeans almost every day, and have one other pair of black pants that fit if we have meetings with clients. I just can’t bring myself to buy size 14s. I tried on some jeans at JC Penney last Friday afternoon when they were having a sale, & nothing looked good. Instead, I did get several pairs of workout capri bottoms & some nice tops for yoga and summer running. At least I have stuff to workout in.
Today I finally lost a pound and am out of the 180s. I have been watching The Biggest Loser season 6 on Hulu.com, and I can’t decide if it’s inspiring or discouraging. To see women who weigh less than I do & they still look really big… puts what I must look like into perspective. I know it’s stupid to compare myself to others, but it’s a long ingrained habit that I doubt will ever go away.
Anyway, I’m doing better today. The weather is warmer & the sun is shining, and it’s staying light well after 5 pm. I can feel the hopefulness of Spring. It was this time of year in 2007 that I first joined LA Weight Loss. I was almost to goal in only 7 months. This time I’m starting the process weighing 27 pounds less than I did in 2007. That’s something, at least.
My clothes are packed to run again today.
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
Five Days (176.2)
That’s the number of days I’ve worked out in a row since Friday.
Friday was Yoga (hot, 90 minutes) in the morning, before work. Almost threw up a couple of times. Great workout.
Saturday was 30 minutes at home on the treadmill. I phoned it in—wasn’t really feeling like it, but I did it anyway just so I’d have done something. I was glad that I did something, but because I didn’t work hard enough, I didn’t get the mental benefit from the workout. That was an interesting discovery, actually. Not putting forth a real effort isn’t the end of the world, but it’s not going to pay off in good brain endorphins either.
Sunday was Yoga (hot, 90 minutes), in the afternoon. I will probably never eat at Olive Garden again (not like I eat there a lot anyway), because we had lunch there after church, and I had yoga only 2 hours later. Trust me, 2 hours is not enough time for soup, salad, and breadsticks to digest. Not when you plan to scrunch your body into any positions other than flat on the couch. So, I researched and learned you need to eat FOUR hours before a hot yoga class. Okay… duly noted. I’ll try not to make that mistake again.
Monday, treadmill 45 minutes (3.2 miles), walking with running intervals thrown in. I worked hard. Then 5 minutes of abs, including plank. I stretched my legs really well afterwards, too.
Tonight I only had time for 30 minutes on the TM at the gym (2.15 miles). Walking with running intervals, and 5 minutes of abs (timed my plank this time--- a full minute on my toes; rest, then 30 seconds more on my toes.)
The consistent days of exercise are peeling away the layers of sloth and fear. Fear that I don’t have it in me to work hard anymore. Fear that I can’t lose weight again. Fear that I can’t change.
Every day I move my body & reconnect with myself—and get out of my head—is a victory. It’s one more brick ripped out of the wall I’ve built around myself this past year and a half.
I love the combination of Yoga and Running. Yoga finds muscles I didn’t know existed. And even after only 5 classes, I’m improving. I’m actually astounded at how strong I’ve gotten already. And since it’s hot yoga, I’m sweating more than I ever have in my life. It’s nuts, but I love it. Running is like coming home, except I’ve got an extra 25 pounds I’m carrying around right now, so I’m not quite all the way home. I’m making my way there, though.
My food is much, much better. Not perfect, but it does fall in line when I’m exercising like this. Especially because I’ve been focused on eating a good breakfast every day. That really makes a big difference in how the rest of my eating goes for the day.
Hopefully my next update will be just as positive and I’ll have some actual weight loss stats to post, too.
Thursday, February 03, 2011
Lame Brain
The Sick got a hold of me & wouldn’t let go. Then one kid got sick. Then the other. Then I pretty much lost my mind.
Literally. The serotonin is completely absent from my brain. At least that’s how it feels. Lame. Brain.
I’ve felt like this before. I know what causes it, pretty much. SAD is part of the problem, which I can only do so much about. My grief from losing Dad and all that drama is still hanging in my head. On top of that, the leftover estate stuff is weighing me down. I go through long periods where I don’t take time for myself, like to exercise or cook healthy meals. I have stress at work, bickering children, a stinky dog, laundry piled to the ceiling…. there’s just a lot to deplete the happy brain chemicals, ya know?
I know how to fix it, mostly. I fix it the lazy way with food. We all know the consequences of that. I do feel better for a while. Ice cream and cookies take the edge off, just like any other drug addict’s weapon of choice. But there’s always the come down, which is guilt laden and serotonin sucking.
And so the cycle goes, on an endless loop until I finally get so sick of it that I’m forced to pull myself out of the muck. Or, sometimes, someone else pulls me out.
Tonight my husband told me, bless him, that he can’t handle me like this anymore. He’s been nothing but supportive to me—he didn’t say it in a hurtful way. Here’s how it went down: I was sitting in the recliner, watching the kids be silly together, and I was enjoying their banter but I felt empty inside. My husband knows how I work better than anyone else, and I’m a pretty open book. And he asked me what was wrong…. the usual, I said. I can’t workout. I want to eat so I can get numb. I can’t stand myself anymore. I hate myself like this.
And he said, it’s not your fault. You should feel no guilt. No guilt, Laura. What happened to you this past year is not your fault. But I should have been stronger, I said. But I should have been able to handle it better. No buts or shoulds, Laura. And no guilt. Just do whatever you need to do to feel better, whatever you need, just do it, he said.
So, first thing, we are working out a schedule where I can get to work three days a week at 8:30 (which I’ve been horrible about for months—getting to work after 10 or 11, very bad for my mental state—and my work that needs to be done) and go to yoga the other two days a week and get to the office around 11:30. It will be a start at least. A built in time just for ME.
I’m still listening to the CD’s by Karly, but I’ve not done the work in the workbook. The acceptance CD, the second time I listened to it, was a big AHA moment. I don’t do acceptance. I deny. Denial is my happy place, the “Think Happy Stuff” shop says on a t-shirt. And that is so true of me. I’ve been in denial my whole life. About lots & lots. And I can’t accept the bad stuff, or the good stuff. I guess there’s magical thinking in there, and a lot of other psychological issues I ought to pay $150 an hour to get figured out. But anyway, I realized that simply working on acceptance might be a HUGE deal for me, if I can figure out HOW to do it. I’ve got the workbook by me. It’s next, after the blog.
At least it’s February 3rd and the sun is almost still bright at 5 p.m. Closer and closer every day to spring. Something to look forward to.
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