Ugggghhhhh. This bug has skidded into a full-blown head cold + bronchitis. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t hear, and oh yeah, I can’t breathe. I have evolved into a first-class mouth breather. (Yuck!) And I’m reacting to something I ate; I have hives all over my mouth???? I can’t imagine why, as I haven’t eaten anything new in the last week+.

Anyway, don’t be worried if I don’t poke my head up here for a few days. I feel rotten and pretty much barely have the energy to roll myself up like a burrito in the covers and stare glassy-eyed at the TV. Bleh. ##

For years I’ve avoided mirrors, not wanting to see what was reflected back, because I’ve been thoroughly disgusted with what was shown there. I mean, repulsed. So my solution was to just not look, and if I didn’t see it, it wasn’t really there. I could continue to mentally see myself as the pretty, curvy little thing I was in college — even though I wasn’t.

In the past couple of years, I’ve taken much closer stock, and finally this summer I think it finally sunk in that yes, everybody else really does see me looking that nasty EVERY DAY, ALL THE TIME. That really was me. And, Ewwwwwwwww.

So it was probably not a big surprise that one day this fall, I finally up and got pissed off enough to change it.

Today I shucked my jeans off as the shower was heating up, and was turning to head over to the scale, when something caught my eye. My thighs were narrower. Thinner, smaller, whatever — they were not as far across <——–> in the mirror. ‘Whoa! Where’d they go?’ I thought, and really looked in the mirror again to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. No, they really were a little smaller! Huh.

So I stepped on the scale. Sure enough, 2 lbs down from Tuesday.

So I’m losing about a 1/2 lb a day, which is fine. That’s 3.5 lbs/week, just a bit shy of what I’d been hoping for initially (5 lbs/week) but still totally workable. If this is the rate my body is comfortable at — seriously, that’s A-OK.

The holidays are going to be really tough though. I know, everybody bemoans the holidays :-P this is hardly new territory. But honestly I’ve never been trying to lose weight through the holidays before, and dangit, I’m leery of slowing progress. I’m so dang happy to be losing it, that I just can’t reconcile giving that up.

But then I think of stuffing, and turkey, and pumpkin pie ………………. OMG. These have been the joyous staples of the holidays my whole life. I’ve never cut back on food during the holidays. Ever.

(And don’t even make quips about "gee, no wonder you got where you are." Not true. My weight gain has been no different over the holidays than any other time of year, and for over 2.5 decades I was able to pig out at the holidays and not gain an ounce.)

But then, today, I had a couple hot dogs (no bun) & onions with mustard and a couple dill pickles and ….. you know, I was full, for a long time. It’s been a good 5.5 hrs. and I’m first now getting hungry again. After a couple hot dogs and pickles?! I wonder if the food was put in front of me, if I’d even eat that much, anyway!

I’m kind of thinking that maybe I should go ahead and make a dish of stuffing (going to make it w/ tons of celery, whole wheat bread, and w/ ground turkey mixed in) but then just plan on freezing 3/4 of it in small serving-size portions. Then I can grab one when I have a taste for it. And that way I get the happy-happy of holiday smells and tastes up-front, but it doesn’t go to waste, either. (And it’s less cooking I have to do later, too. Hah!)

So I’m kind of thinking that even with it being the holidays, that I probably won’t take bucketloads in serving sizes anyhow. It is still just as much the holidays if I still eat the things I like — everything :) — but not in mountainous portions. It’s not about volume, it’s about enjoying what you do eat. Hmmmmm.

For what it’s worth, I did pick up a small jug of Egg Nog at the grocery store. You know, the dairy case kind. :) It has like 180 cal. per 1/2 cup serving (OMG!!!) but, I decided that even if I only drink a little bit at a time, I am still enjoying it and it’s still worth buying.

(There’s definitely a pattern here — a belief that if I don’t wolf down every little scrap of the item before it spoils [4-5 days] that it’s not worth being bought in the first place; as if I am only deserving to eat apples and ground beef. That’s just not true and I have to break my brain of thinking that way.)

On October 29th I posted about having lost 11 lbs. I was so stinkin’ proud of how quick that first 10 had come off, and frustrated with (at that point) a 1-2 week plateau… but I thought I’d be able to get right back on the Fast Drop Train.

Didn’t happen.

I spent the next 7 days, ’til about Nov. 6th, gaining weight. I actually gained 4 lbs. back total (so I was at a net loss of 7). Essentially, I wasted/lost a month on a plateau, then 4 lb. gain. Urrrghhh!! That was seriously maddening.

It was all food-related, of course, I was eating too much and too much of the wrong thing. Even complex carbs just stick to me if I don’t eat them at about 1:10 with protein.

I finally figured this carb thing out though. It’s not just that I "love carbs" or am a "Carbohydrate Addict" or even that I’m "pre-diabetic" (the last being my mother’s explanation for the panoply of odd symptoms).

I’m Sugar Sensitive. Sugar is a drug to my brain. Literally. This is a brain chemistry thing… low baseline serotonin and beta-endorphins, leading to more serotonin and beta-endorphin receptors in each synapse, which creates an extra-big "hit" of serotonin and its partner beta-endorphin when I eat sugar or simple carbs. I am an addict. Physically, addicted. Because of how my brain has been built from the start …….. structure which incidentally also causes depression (check), anxiety (check), and clearly contributes to my PTSD.

So now that I understand my tempestuous relationship with sugar, I’m finding it much easier not only to not eat it (I don’t want it), but when I do crave it, I’m listening to my body and just eating a little. No drama, no resisting, no struggle … just up and eat some. *shrug* This is a long-term battle, and I’m not going to be able to cut it out 100% right now. But I can slowly work in that direction. :)

Since that discovery, I’ve dropped 6 lbs in 10 days. For a net total of 13 GONE.

And I’m not hungry, and I’m not eating much at all. :) Now if I could just get rid of this damn migraine (hormones again, *sigh*) I’d be golden.

Diet, shmiet … I know.*snork*

A month ago my Dad had a heart attack and spent about a week in the hospital. He actually died 3 times. Died. Flat-ass coded. Luckily his mistress was there the one time to do CPR, otherwise he would have been found really dead some unknown time later in the bathroom. (Nice. *roll eyes*)

The best place to sort this unexpected turn of events out was on a trail.

And somewhere out in the woods, sitting on a rock, beneath the bluff, watching the sunshine glitter and sparkle between the green leaves on the trees, I realized … I’m letting life pass me on by. And even worse yet, I’m letting life pass me by WHILE I’M UGLY.

No, no, no, no, no …….. that is not okay with me. It’s bad enough to be mentally semi-broken. But I realized I am putting things in my mouth that are making (or keeping) me fat, and that when I look in the mirror, the girl who looks back at me is UGLY. And I hate that. I HATE that.

So I decided, I was thin and pretty once upon a time. In fact, I don’t even recognize myself in pictures from college *blush* that girl looks nothing like I look today. And I want to be the pretty girl again. I want to be a Trophy Wife! And to become a Trophy Wife ………. I must lose weight.

(Never mind the getting married part. I have a feeling once I fix the things that are broken inside of me, the rest of the outside stuff will fall into place.)

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A symptom which I have assigned to PTSD (as PTSD is the main mental operative in my life) that has developed in the last 15 months, is clenched joint muscles.

Not skeletal muscles, as that would be like back spasms? I don’t have back spasms.

But my left hip, the internal muscles which keep the femur pulled up into the pelvis, squeeze tight. Not the external buttock muscles. The internal ones. The result is that the femur is pushed up into the cartilage and joint constantly, and the hip joint (in my pelvis) becomes really sore. Not so much sore to walk on, but it hurts particularly bad to lay on.

Although I’ll describe it to my family that “my hip is spasming up again,” it’s not really a spasm, because spasms are involuntary. This is voluntary, but controlled subconsciously; It’s not like I choose to do it, like picking my nose! It just happens.

But “spasm” closely describes the tension and tightness of the muscles that are clenched up. It closely describes the fact I am not trying to tense up my hip. And after 20 or 30 minutes, the whole joint just aches.

I try to be aware of it, and consciously relax the whole hip joint. However I’ll catch it and do this relaxation exercise easily 30+ times an hour.. sometimes several times a minute. It’s a constant battle with this subconscious thing that keeps tightening the muscles up. And I do the whole awareness-relaxation thing because if I don’t, if I left the joint stay spasmed up, it is unbelievably sore for days. At its worst, I haven’t been able to even sit on the hip. Give that whirl in real life … NOT!

So I am perpetually distracted by checking whether my hip is tightened up, then stopping whatever I’m working on and focusing on forcing the muscles and whole joint to relax. Then I go back to whatever I was thinking about.

The net result is, I am constantly distracted, and inefficient, and I often forget what I was doing, or what I was thinking about. This makes even checking or acting on emails impossible at times… I can’t follow a thought process through. It is supremely annoying, and leaves me feeling incapable.

Wellbutrin is a keeper!! Given all the horror stories I’ve read in the last 3 weeks, I can’t believe I’m doing so well on it.

I mean, people have posted a lot of bad reviews online. But I’m starting to wonder if it’s like anything else… 10x as many people will report a bad experience than will post a good experience… complainers are louder than happy people… and then we have that pesky one-size-never-fits-all that goes on with anti-depressants in general. ADs are such a flukey thing. The effects are so variable person-to-person. So I feel like I hit the jackpot, just for not wanting to off myself. :-P

The side-effects I reported the first week (the Day 4 post) have all but disappeared. All side-effects were gone within 2 weeks.

The longest, and most difficult for me, were the insomnia and restlessness… but they did both go away abruptly at about Day 10. The intestinal irregularities *ahem* have been highly annoying, but things are moving again without *ahem* pharmaceutical intervention. :) The only noticeable symptom that continues is sensitivity to pain, and that is slowly lessening with time. Key word being slowly. But even that is not near as bad as it was a week ago. A week ago, I wanted to cut off darn near every joint in my body…

The obvious effect, anti-depressant, is working just fine. I think that if I was in normal circumstances, I would feel great. Unfortunately I am surrounded by a very messy house (which aggravates and distracts the crap out of me, and about which I feel overwhelmed and incapable) and I am facing foreclosure on my business real estate. Intellectually I am glad to give the bank that worthless troublesome piece of sh*t, I am glad to have that ugly sore out of my life; but emotionally I carry a mountain of shame and embarrassment. I constantly wonder what people in town must think of me, how they look down on me. That I am a dismal and utter failure. And that, that’s a desperate, crushing weight to carry.

I keep reminding myself I did the best I could do at the time. I have gone back and picked apart my circumstances of the last 4 years, bit by bit, decision by decision, and I keep coming to the same conclusions I did then. I made the best choices with the circumstances I was given. I did the best I could do. If I had to do it all over again, I can’t find where I would make any changes. Changing the outcome now would have meant deeply hurting, and perhaps causing the death of, my own family.

There’s no way in hell a piece of frickin’ real estate is worth that. No way, ever. If people are going to be so insensitive (and shallow) to not understand that, they probably aren’t people I want in my life anyway. They probably aren’t going to enrich or participate in anything constructive, or helpful. So they can go squat on their opinion.

But you know, it’s hard to remember all that. It’s a lot easier to focus on the ignorant, inexperience-borne negative pre-judgments I’ve had about foreclosure and business failure for most of my young life. Doesn’t seem to matter they’re not valid… those thought patterns are believable because they are comfortable, like old jeans, I’ve worn ‘em a long time. Which is not a good reason to keep ‘em. It’s a constant, constant struggle.

If it weren’t for that colossal junk weighing me down — which I think anyone would agree, is pretty major-sized — I think I’d probably be in pretty fair shape on the current meds. I just don’t see how meds can erase circumstances. I really believe stress and depression are not unusual responses considering the circumstances. This isn’t little stuff.

It is unfortunate we were blanketed in 10 inches of snow yesterday, impeding access to the dumpster (let alone the car)… then again maybe I am just looking for excuses not to clean, eh? ;) It’s not as if there aren’t 50 million other things to clean/do… ##

It would seem I’ve successfully fought off the shingles!

I reported unreachable, incessant, maddening itching in this post. It started at 1 AM Monday, and went for 12 hrs straight. It was still there, although greatly diminished (due to meds), at my 1 PM Dr.’s appt. At the appt, it had changed to half itch, half burning.

The Dr. didn’t prescribe any anti-virals, to my surprise, because he said they are just as effective until 3 days after the rash shows up. Oh!, I said… and given the timing, I still had 5-7 days before the rash would show up… which meant up to 10 days to get on the anti-viral. So if it wasn’t shingles, Read the rest of this entry

I am not proud to admit I’m voluntarily not attending my EMT refresher tonight, because a part of me is taunting the phrase "skipping class" in that slacker way. As in, I’m skipping class because I am lazy and would rather kick back with some beers and watch TV.

But I am not lazy, my TV is off, and I have no beer.

It all comes down to comfort level. Which is not to say, "it’s more comfy here in my jammies than bundled in a coat outside" but rather whether I am feeling strong enough to put myself in a situation that makes my heart pound and skin crawl in fear.

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