Archive for April, 2009
So, I finally did some minor grocery shopping last night and guess what I found in the bags when I got home? A few ounces of willpower and small serving of motivation. Bonus.
T’s new job came with a 45-minute commute each way, so I almost always beat him home. I decided I was going to make dinner and I wanted to try adding some form of vegetable to the baked pasta I like to make. Ideally, I would have also used whole wheat penne, but, alas, Mr. T pities the fool who feeds him whole wheat anything. I already had pasta and a jar of sauce (haven’t quite had the nerve to make my own yet), but no veggies that would work, so I headed to the store. I picked up a zucchini (yes, one – baby steps, people!) and then grabbed some other fruits and veggies to have on hand as well. I also pick up some turkey brats (I have a weakness for brats, so turkey makes them better, right?) and Healthy Life buns, plus some other odds and ends, and grabbed a bag of 2% Italian cheese. Then I remembered that T also asked for…garlic bread. *Sigh* Oh, how I love garlic bread. I didn’t want to disappoint him, so I grabbed a box of premade bread (thinking that I could portion control better that way then with a fresh loaf) and headed home.
I sauteed the zucchini with a little olive oil (or EVOO for the Rachel Ray fans), garlic and Italian seasoning and tossed it in with the penne and sauce. Then I put it in a casserole dish and topped it with cheese, stuck it in the oven and turned to face the bread. It was go time. Know what I did? I grilled up two pieces, slapped them on T’s plate and proceeded to eat one serving of the pasta. That’s right, no bread, no seconds. Where the hell did that come from?
And you know what else I did last night? Cleaned the kitchen, did a load of laundry and…wait for it…watched the last 30 minutes of Heroes while workin’ it on the elliptical. My reward? For the first time in months, the scale went down. Granted, only a half pound, but 216.5 is a hell of a lot better than 217-218.5, which is where I’ve been stuck. It’s progress, folks. And that half pound was enough to show me that resisting temptation and doing a little work can actually pay off. It might seem crazy, but I feel a little less jiggly today.
I’m going to buy a new maxi dress after the first ten pounds. And then some new shoes after the next ten pounds after that. And when I lose 30, I’m going to get more ink. And when I hit goal, I’m going to get a lot more ink. I feel pretty good. Maybe the medicine is working after all. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel like a total ogre, but there’s just something about feeling in control that makes everything a bit brighter. I hope I can continue this and make it a real change. Since I can’t think of anything luckier than a unicorn, I’ll leave you with these…
This weekend confirmed any question in my mind that I need to get back on some form of anxiety medicine until things turn around again. And by “turn around” I, of course, mean “lose a bazillion pounds and no longer feel like a giant hippopotamus unfit for social interaction.” Obviously.
Saturday night was a surprise bday bash for one of Mr. T’s old friends. Okay, friend is pushing it – acquaintence isn’t really right, either. He’s somewhere in between. T’s known him forever, but they don’t really hang out unless they both happen to show up at another mutual friend’s gathering. Whatever, he’s a nice guy with the ugliest baby I have ever seen in my entire life. Seriously. The first time I ever met this guy (his actual nickname is Bootycrack), he showed me and T a pic of his newborn baby. It was so hideous that we both had to take a second and our response was along the lines of, “Wow, man, that’s really…something!” He proceeded to give us the wallet photo and when we found it months later, it was just as startling. I digress.
I get really nervous about going out in public, so I generally just don’t do it. I mean, I haven’t even gone grocery shopping in quite some time. The only reason I run errands at lunchtime is because I just need a break from the office. Regardless, every venture out evokes a visceral reaction from me. My stomach knots up, I get a little queasy, my heart races and I feel like everyone is staring at me. Now, the logical part of my brains says, “Hey, fucker. People have better things to do with their time than look at you and talk about you. Move on.” But the crazy part of my brain says, “Whatever! You know everyone is looking at you and your husband, wondering why thin guys always seem to go for big fatties. They hope you don’t talk to them or even make eye contact. Why did you leave the house? You should run. Now. RETREAT!!!”
So, by the time we get to The Bar (which is a teeny tiny smokey hole in the wall that T’s group always has and always will hang out at), I’m doing my best to remain in control of my faculties and not take off running down the street. We walk in, and my first thought is, “Oh shit. Oh, hell no. Fuck me in the goat ass.” Sitting at the bar is none other than The Whore, the only ex of T’s that I’ve ever met or had a real problem with. Essentially, when they were dating eons ago, she got him to move to Texas with her, sign a lease and buy a car and all that jazz, and then she promptly quit her job and refused to work (seriously, I still don’t think she has a job and I’ve been with T for about 7 years). T couldn’t make ends meet, his credit got completely ruined, they eventually broke up and he moved back here to try to start over and fix everything she helped ruin. And she was actually crazy. She now has a kid and is living in government-subsidized housing, receiving disability because she got some shitbag doctor to diagnose her with narcolepsy. As T put it, the bitch doesn’t have narcolepsy, she just likes to sleep. Okay, so she’s a worthless loser. I could forgive that to a degree and not hate her (I mean, she hadn’t done anything to ME, right?)…but then I met her. I met her the night of a funeral for one of T’s friends. T has a pretty tight circle of pals from when he was a kid, so everyone went to the funeral and then to The Bar. Before we leave the funeral home, The Whore walks up to T and asks to speak to him alone. T has his arm around me and tells her that anything she has to say can be said in front of me or not at all. She walked away. When we got to the bar, she tried again and he shut her down again (turned out she was trying to get him to help her buy drugs). So before she leaves, she comes over to us. We are leaning on the pool table. T has his arm around my waist and I have my arm around his shoulders. The Whore PUSHES me off of him to hug him. He just looked at her, didn’t hug her back and kept his arm around me. She ignored me and left. Good thing, too, because I was PISSED. Who does that? And I really don’t like to be touched – I have major personal space issues – so she’s lucky I didn’t claw her eyes out.
So anyway, she’s the first person I see when I walk in, already feeling like total crap. So what happens next? She shakes T’s hand and then shakes mine and INTRODUCES herself like we’ve never met. When she said, “I’m Melissa” I just looked at her and said, “Yeah…” Then T says he has to use the restroom and LEAVES ME STANDING ALONE WITH HER at the bar. Okay, so I’m on the verge of a panic attack and he leaves me alone with the one person I cannot stand in a small bar filled with people I don’t know. Fine, he has to use the bathroom, but I wish he had waited until we settled in at a table or something. Standing alone in public is awkward enough, but standing alone, feeling like a loser, next to HER was just unbearable. Then, T comes out of the bathroom and, instead of beelining back to me, he stops to chat with other people. Again, not a big deal if I wasn’t ready to lose my ever-loving mind while standing next to her – and he knows how I feel about her. I grab my purse, walk back to him and hissed quietly at him, “What the fuck? Why did you leave me with HER???”
He got mad that I was upset, and snapped at me in front of his friends. Yeah, that helped the looming panic attack. I sit at a table and then this other girl, who had been standing with The Whore at the bar, comes over to show him pictures on her cell phone and laugh and talk…and T never makes a move to introduce me, much less include me in the convo. I was just stunned – the night really couldn’t be going worse for me at that point. So I stuck my hand out and introduced myself as T’s wife. T thought we had met before (we had, for 2 seconds about 3 years ago…like I’d remember???) and apologized, but at this point, I’m feeling about 2 inches tall and I’m completely about to cry. Then T walks away from me to talk to more people and leaves me alone, again. The worst part was he was talking to people in a group that The Whore was a part of, so I just felt even more deserted.
Don’t get me wrong, I know T wasn’t TRYING to make me feel like shit. I do that on my own. But I tried to explain to him what I was going through and it made no difference. It’s not that I wanted him to feel like he had to babysit me all night, but I just wanted to feel included in his world. I didn’t. I felt like an intruder. It didn’t make me feel any better when he pointed out that I didn’t have to go in the first place. Yeah, that makes me feel really wanted. I’m just at a point right now where I feel very unsure of everything around me. I survived a dramatic company bust-up and was thrust into an insane new work environment that is anything but comfortable (or stable), I lost two loved ones, I gained a ton of weight and lost every ounce of self-confidence that I had built up. Nothing feels secure anymore. I trust T, but I absolutely would not blame him if he left me. In my mind, that’s what I deserve. It didn’t help that his ex is incredibly thin. Not pretty (she looks like a retarded horse on Prozac), but thin. And here I am, a fat ass of epic proportions…gah.
I want him to understand how hard this is for me, but when I try to explain, he tells me there’s nothing he can do about it. I think he thinks my depression is all about Grandma, but it’s not. He doesn’t understand the social anxiety, even though I was on meds for it when we first met and I used to have to pop pills before I went anywhere with his friends or any people I didn’t know. This whole disorder is a bitch, and I know the biggest key to getting past all of it is to get healthy inside and out. Unfortunately, T doesn’t like to go for long walks and he’s not going to change his eating and cooking habits, so that makes it all the more difficult for me. I figure, if he can eat three times a night and have fast food for dinner while sitting on the couch, so can I. I know I really can’t, but try telling me that at 7:30 when I’m so hungry I could ride a horse (Chris from Family Guy, anyone? “Wait, that doesn’t make sense. I guess I could ride him to the store…”).
I’ve been trying to be better. I ask what I can replace fries with when we eat out. I actually did some form of physical activity three times last week (gotta start somewhere). I drink tons of water most days (I confess, I’m really sleepy today so I’m sucking down a Pepsi Max 0 right now). I bought healthy breakfast and snack options to keep in my desk. I’m making the right steps, but I’m still at the same weight I was 3 weeks ago. It’s going to be a long, bumpy road. I go back to the doc on Friday to discuss the Wellbutrin and I’m in the process of locating a counselor near my office. My first volleyball season in 7 months starts next weekend. Things are starting to come together to get me back on track. But I still want to cry every single time I look in the mirror. And for those of you who don’t know, hating yourself is simply exhausting. Really, I’m tired all the damn time.
I just hope the crazy train leaves town soon. All aboard! WOO WOO! At least I don’t have the swine flu. Wouldn’t that just be fitting…
Well, she went and tagged me with the 8 Things virus that’s been going around. I guess I deserved it since I haven’t posted in forever. Guess I’ll play along, although eight is a pretty big number…
Here’s how 8 things works:
- Mention the person that tagged you. Schneiderdoodle. Done.
- Complete the lists of 8′s. I’m getting there. And by the way, YOU DON’T NEED AN APOSTROPHE TO MAKE A NUMBER PLURAL!!! So it is now the lists of 8s. So there.
- Tag 8 friends. I don’t have eight friends. And definitely not 8 that haven’t been tagged.
- Go tell them you tagged them. Don’t tell me what to do.
8 Things I Am Looking Forward To…
- Being done with this list. Hahaha.
- Feeling better in general.
- Spending time with my friends this weekend.
- Spending time with my husband at all…he’s been working late a lot.
- Losing weight and getting healthy.
- Watching How to Be and Little Ashes with my lovely lady friends.
- Harry Potter & the Half-Blood Prince coming to theaters on July 15.
- New Moon coming to theaters on November 20.
8 Things I Did Yesterday…
- Got out of bed. Small victories, people.
- Went to work. That’s hard every single day.
- Finally moved a bookshelf to my work space and got organized.
- Went to Schnuck’s at lunch and bought a bunch of Fiber One breakfast options to keep at my desk.
- Started having migraine symptoms…I bet I have a full-blown headache by tonight – the fourth in two weeks.
- Watched the new episode of Ultimate Fighter: US v. UK.
- Talked to my mom on the phone.
- Went to bed and fell asleep at a reasonable time. Woot!
8 Things I Wish I Could Do…
- Bake for a living.
- Move closer to my mom and sister.
- Actually have time to work on my first book idea.
- Afford more tattoos.
- Lost weight more easily.
- Enjoy eating healthy foods, and a bigger variety of them.
- Run another half marathon…maybe even a full someday.
- Marry my husband again and again. Not with a full wedding…but saying “I will” once just doesn’t seem like enough. I mean, I really like this guy. Of course I love him. I adore him. But I actually really LIKE him. There’s a difference. Both are incredibly important, but I think a lot of married couples lose sight of actually LIKING their spouse. Love makes him my husband, but like makes him my best friend and the one person I enjoy spending all my time with. Okay, enough with the gushiness.
8 Shows I Enjoy…
- Ultimate Fighter
- The Biggest Loser
- South Park
- Grey’s Anatomy
- Real Housewives
- Project Runway
- Food Network Challenge
8 People I Tag…
Like I said, I don’t think I have 8 people left to tag. So if you are reading this and haven’t done it, do it. Or don’t. That’s what the freedom to choose is all about!
Also…since it’s hard enough to blog once, I’ll just add an update here for those of you who were curious about the Wellbutrin stuff. I had major difficulty sleeping the first week and a half, but my body had adjusted and I’m back to sleeping well again. However, I’m also not feeling like the medication is doing anything good for me, either. All the initial positive stuff has faded and I think I’ll need to have a higher dose. And it doesn’t do squat for anxiety, so I think I’ll be asking for something for that on an as-needed basis. I have had lots of migraines lately, which are usually a product of stress, so hopefully adjusting the dosage will help me with that as well. So far, I haven’t lost any weight but have managed to work out a few times and am making a conscious effort to eat better. My main focus is getting the meds right while taking baby steps with the rest. Enough with that stuff. It’s time for some funny.
I just wanted to take a second to say thanks for all the kind words and support. It’s going to be a tough road, but so many people deal with these issues and come out shining at the end. I have lots of bad habits to break and good habits to create, but that’s the name of the game.
For those of you curious about my Wellbutrin experience – I think it is messing with my sleep a bit. I was so tired yesterday but couldn’t fall asleep until around 2 AM. If that continues, I’ll have to figure something out, but it could have been stress as well. I’m hungrier today than the last two days, but still less than before. I’ve only been on it for a week, so we’ll see how the next few go.
Thanks again to all of you for being so positive about my dark, not-so-little secret. It’ll be a while before I feel comfortable working out in public, but when I’m there, I’ll take the gym buddy offers for sure. I seriously appreciate all the understanding and warm fuzzies. I’m not gonna lie. A couple of tears came out. Me = touched. xo
Warning: this post isn’t funny at all. If you want a laugh today, don’t read this. Serious isn’t really my thing, but this is something I need to write about.
As the one year anniversary of Grandma V’s death approaches, I’m realizing that I’m really not in a winter funk. I’m depressed and have been since she passed. When Grandma D died, that added even more sadness and conflicting emotions to the mix and probably amplified the depression. I’ve tried to pass it off as work stress, grief and just being in a rut, but after my doctor’s appointment last Thursday, it became clear that it was more than that.
Obviously, I struggle a lot with my weight. As a result, I also struggle with my self-esteem. That alone can be enough to cause depression (and it may well have and I just didn’t want to admit it), but adding last year to those issues was the straw that broke the camel’s back (by the way – what the hell does that saying even mean? What does a straw have to do with a damn camel? I digress.). It’s not that I’m so much ashamed to admit that I’m depressed – I’ve been there before – but there is a part of me that feels like this is a personal flaw, a weakness. That’s not right. I shouldn’t feel that way, but I know I’m not alone. I know not many people read this silly little blog, but perhaps me writing about my experience will help someone else recognize the signs and embrace help. At the very least, writing about it will help me accept it and move forward.
Last Thursday, I woke up with an eye infection and went to see the doctor about it. Of course, part of visiting the doctor includes getting weighed. This next part is really hard for me to publicly admit (I haven’t even told Mr. T because I don’t want him to be ashamed of me, too), but it’s real and I need to own it, so here goes. I’m really embarrassed by this…I topped the scales at 220 pounds. Seriously??? I qualify for the fucking Biggest Loser. I’m a damn whale. Hello, world! You can call me Willy. When I saw that, I tried to brush it off and just not think about it. When the doctor came in, however, there was no escaping it.
After looking at my eye, he looked at my chart and said, “Looks like there’s more of you this time. What’s going on?” I promptly burst into tears. He asked about my job and I told him the truth – getting out of bed every single day is a challenge and a nightmare. I hate it. I also explained the grief portion and he pointed out something I really already knew – when you get beyond 6 months, it’s simply not grief anymore. It’s depression. Then he laid out the worst part. If you do the math, it works out to the fact that I have, more or less, gained a pound a week since the last time I was in (end of October). That marks the exact beginning of the agency transition. Great. Just another reason to LOVE my fucking job. It makes me depressed and fat.
But here’s the thing. It’s my fault. I LET THIS HAPPEN. I am really ashamed of that part. No one shoved the food down my throat and tied me to the couch. I ate every bite and wasted every second that could have been used to work out. I own this. However, I also know that my appetite has been HUGE. I might not really be hungry all the time, but my body constantly tells me I’m hungry. Yes, I snack out of boredom, especially in the evenings. That’s all my fault. The cravings are intense, but I need to be strong enough to resist them.
As for working out? Hard to do when you have zero energy and zero motivation. Somehow, WANTING to be thin has never been motivation enough. The wedding was pretty great motivation. I was down to my lowest weight in years when I walked down the aisle. But as soon as the wedding was over and I found out about Grandma D, I kind of stopped caring. Then the work thing happened. I didn’t have the energy to care. It’s so much easier to just shut off and go to bed at 7:00 than it is to face all the shit that bothers you and do something about it. And that’s where the depression really does become a contributing factor to this insane, unbearable weight gain. I’ve always had issues with food and working out, but I dealt with them. When I noticed my weight going up, I did something about it. This time, I did nothing.
And now, I need help. I need help getting back on track and getting back to the person I used to be. The person Mr. T fell in love with. The person my friends knew me as. I’ve accepted that, although I’m ultimately responsible for this, there were circumstances that helped escalate me to this point and those circumstances (some of them, at least) can be changed.
My doctor prescribed me an antidepressant. He put me on Wellbutrin because it tends to not affect your weight or sex drive. It’s also not supposed to make you sleepy. In fact, I have to take it in the morning because it has been known to cause insomnia. I do have problems with sleeping, but as soon as I’m over this cold and not taking nighttime cough syrup, I’ll be able to more accurately tell if it affects my sleeping. I don’t know if it will help with my anxiety, but one thing at a time. I started taking it on Friday. Yesterday, I noticed it was 8:00 and I hadn’t had dinner or even thought about eating. That alone was huge for me. I pretty much made myself go eat so I wouldn’t start fucking with my metabolism more by skipping meals. I weighed myself this morning and the scale said 217. That’s really just the difference between the doctor’s scale and mine, I’m sure, but that’s my at-home starting point.
So this isn’t the beginning of a journey to simply lose weight. This is my path to finally being healthy, body and mind. I am going to look into seeing a therapist and I’m going to get Mr. T on board with regular exercise and better eating habits. I know I’m not the only one with these problems, and not the only one who needs a little extra help. I’ll journal about how the Wellbutrin works for me and what changes I notice. As ashamed as I am to have gotten to this point, I’m relieved to finally be on my way back. If this path doesn’t work, I’ll keep looking until I find the one that does.
It’s extremely difficult for me to post this. Sorry to get so serious, but it’s time for me to be completely honest. So, here it is. Hopefully, today will mark the beginning of the change I so desperately need…and maybe help someone else mark theirs as well.
First, some unrelated, amazingly great news – Mr. T was offered a new job that comes with a healthy raise and much better work conditions. He deserves this so, so much and I’m incredibly happy for him. Jealous? Oh, hell yes. But he really needs and deserves the opportunity. His current boss really is an asshole. And after MY boss screwed him out of $500 this week, we could really use the money. Sweet. Hooray for Mr. T! The best part is that the new company basically chased him down and kept changing the offer until it was something T could actually accept. I’m so glad someone has finally seen his true potential and worth and has rewarded him appropriately. Sometimes, life can be fair.
Now, on the the pictures. Mr. T took our Teddy Bear to Club Paws, which is run by Hope Rescues (the shelter that found him), to get groomed on Tuesday. We decided this year he should get shaved because he loves being outside so much. I didn’t think they’d shave quite so much off, but hey – he loves it, so who am I to complain? He looks so different, and he acts like a puppy. He is so happy and energetic, and he even gets to watch TV on the bed with us sometimes now. Kitty took a day or so to get used to him (I swear, he had no idea who Teddy was when he got home that day), but now they’re back to being nuzzle buddies when they think I’m not looking.
For those of you who may not remember just how fluffy the Tedders used to be, here are two before shots:
And now, the after shots. Note how confused Kitty looks.
He’s so excited about his new ‘do! (And yes, that is a corner Jacuzzi tub sitting on our deck – anyone want to buy it?)
Such a proud little lion!
And a good look at how they did the “mane” – and look at his black markings!
Aw, he’s so cute. I’m glad my two guys had such a good week. Kitty didn’t barf today, so maybe he’s having a good day, too. But he’s an asshole, so who really cares? (Mostly joking – I love that little jerkface.) If we could just fix me, we’d be the perfect happy family. Sigh.