Fat Girl

Yeah. I said it. I'm a fat girl. I'm not thick or curvy or voluptous or big boned or chubby. I'm overweight, fat, obese. Technically, I am morbidly obese.

Morbidly obese is the fat that'll bring on the complications that will kill you. Diabetes, heart disease, fatty liver, and countless others.

I've been overweight most of my life. Even when I was in high school my hips had me in a size 12. I'd have been happy to stay there but food is so tasty and I have a lack of willpower when I want something.

Funnily enough, I don't think of myself as fat girl often. I have decent self esteem. (Now at least.) and people like me as I am. I enjoy activities. I like going for a hike or swimming or playing kickball. It's fun!

I've always been pretty ok with how I look. I'm never going to win any beauty contests but I'd never enter a beauty contest in the first place.

I wanted to put this all out there first because I really want it understood that I mean it. I am good with who I am and how I look.

I am about to go on a diet/excercise plan. Doing things the right way. Why? Because of my health.

Both parents are diabetic now. I do NOT like needles. The idea of having to give myself insulin injections makes me cringe. If I don't get my eating habits and activity levels under control and get myself healthy now, I never will.

I am 36 years old. Time is against me. My creaky joints are against me. The damage I've already done to my body is against me.

But do you know what's for me?

My pigheaded stubborn bitchy self. My friends who will back me up and tell me "Do you really want to eat that?" My future self who will be thanking me for giving her a chance to live with less daily pain, less health problems, less emotional issues. My doctor (who I will find soon) who will give me a plan to stick to.

I signed up at a website called SparkPeople.com It has a lot of simple goal checklists and meal plans and exercise plans to choose from and support groups.

I will do this.

Now the scary bit. I weighed myself today. I'm within 1 lb of the heaviest I've ever been. I believe I can drop the weight safely and get myself down to just above where I'm technically supposed to be in a year. One year = One hundred lbs lighter.

You read that right. 100 lbs in 1 year.

No drugs, no hcg, no 500 calorie a day diet. I'm aiming for 2-3 lbs a week. And that is achievable.

Day 1: February 18th 2014. 246 lbs. Goal 146. 100 lbs to go.

If you see me screwing up, smack the taco out of my hand.

Drug free ..... for now

As a disclaimer for the nosy, I'm not talking about illegal drugs. For everyone who cares to read on....

My health sucks. Old people say as long as you have your health, nothing else matters. They are right.

I have a skin condtion called Hidradenitis Suppurativa. (See previous blogs for details) I've suffered with it for years and years but only got diagnosed March 2013. I've been on antibiotics since. Everyday a pill and two different creams. Special body washes. Changing up the antibiotics when I had a severe reaction. Changing topicals when my insurance decided it wasn't going to cover it anymore. Yeast infections and digestive problems that come with long term antibiotics.

Antibiotics for 11 months straight. Then I said NO.

No more pills everyday when I still end up with flare ups now and then. No more doctor's appointments that cost me $60 bucks each and meds that set me back $40. No more sun sensitivity side effects. No more.

I am NOT, I repeat, NOT saying this is a good idea. I'm saying I'm going to  be stubborn and obstinate and pigheaded and get my immune system to take care of it's damn self again.

I'd also recently suffered from my winter depression. (Seasonal Affective Disorder. See previous blogs) I've been on antidepressants for 3 months. My mood is super fantastic lately and the sun is back so I'm also going off those as well. As of today.

This morning was the first time I hadn't taken any medicine in a year.

A YEAR! An entire year of my life.

I'm fed up with meds. They work. I don't deny that at all. I just want to live my life without side effects again.  I want to see if my body can get used to just being chemical free again.

Arm's Length

It's rough sailing inside my head still. I'm trying not to take everything personally but my brain is not letting me do anything else.

Every minor criticism, every eyeroll, my brain is translating into "You are nothing but a waste of space." I know it's crazy. I know I'm watching the world through gray colored lenses. I'm not stupid. I know when I'm not rational.

The problem with knowing you're being irrational is that it doesn't seem to help. You can tell me or I can tell me all day that I'm not being rational and in the meantime my heart is still bleeding on the floor. There's only thing I can do that's of any use is STAY OUT OF THE WAY.

It's rational. If I'm not putting myself in situations where I feel like I'm being attacked, I feel better. Or at least not constantly on the defensive. I can relax.

I can dip my toe in to social situations and leave when I start getting overwhelmed. It's my only defense mechanism right now.

So if you feel I'm keeping everyone at arm's length, it's because I am. When springtime comes, I will start feeling better. Until then, I'm in survival mode. Head down, keep trudging, the sun will come out.

I'm sure there are some of you who think I just write my blog for attention. What I'm actually doing is trying to explain me. I don't want people to walk on eggshells around me. I don't want pity. I just want someone to understand.

Depression will affect 1/4 of the population at some point in their lives. That's staggering numbers. How can you hope to help without knowing what's happening in their head? In the meantime, nobody talks about it. Nobody wants to be "Crazy girl". I certainly don't.

But I will. Someone has to do it. There is such shame and stigma surrounding mental illnesses of which depression is far and away the most common. Someone should stand up and explain themselves. Take away the ignorance and you take away the fear.

Thoughts on Depression

I've been on the antidepressants for a while now and they are quite definitely helping.

Before Antidepressants Average Day:
Wake up. Cry. Work. Excuse myself to the bathroom to cry. Home. Cry. Watch tv, or read a book, or anything that may get me out of my head. Try to sleep, can't sleep. Start cycle all over again.

Now:
Wake up, Work, Home, Go out, hang with friends, laugh, bed.

Except the last couple of days. The last few have been bad. Really bad. Scary bad. Yesterday, I woke up late, rushed around, forgot I had to get gas on the way to work, was 20 minutes late, felt so awful about being late I started berating myself in my head.

My depression: Stupid bitch. You can't do anything right. Everything you do is never going to be good enough. If you hadn't switched out your alarm clock, this wouldn't have happened. You're an idiot. It's the fucking busy time, you have to get shit done. Now you threw off the whole day.

Then there was a miscommunication about the hours that would be worked on Saturday, where I thought I was getting shorted for the week. I got angry and paranoid and pissed. When the dust cleared and all was well, the boss gave me shit for not taking the time to think things through and acting like a fool. Bam.

Depression: See! You can't think right. You aren't patient enough. You assume the worst. And your boss hates you and if you keep pissing him off there goes your job and then what will you do? Fucking no good, piece of shit. Keep your head down and do your fucking job.

That was when I realized the bad thought spiral had begun and was already snowballing. I texted my friend to let her know I wouldn't be able to make it out to her party and offered a raincheck for a later time. Got back the reply: Noted. Well, fuck me sideways. Everything I touch is just turning to shit.

I can't deal with being around people. I'm already taking any little thing way too much to heart. Now I've let a friend down on top of everything else.

Depression: You're a horrible friend. You can't even suck it up and make it out for one night? The fuck is wrong with you, stupid whiny bitch. And look at you, you weak stupid bitch, crying again. Cry baby.

Text from roomie: Can you let out and feed the dog? I'll be home late.
Reply: Sure. Where are you going?
Roomie: Mutual friend's house.
Reply: have fun.

Depression: You see! Proof again that you suck and no one wants to be around you. Your friend didn't want to spend time with you.

Further texts with roomie where I let her know I was having a really bad day and she was supportive and kind. Then texts from mutual friend inviting me over and supportive kindness.

Started to settle down a little. Home then a little tv then bath then sleep.

Texted the boy to let him know I wasn't going anywhere. Made vague plans for today. Jumped on facebook and was messaged by a friend. At this point my brain just said NO. Let her know I just couldn't and then got a comment from the birthday girl that let me know, yup, she's pissed. Cried myself into a headache. Then messaged her trying to explain a little that if I had it in me, I'd be there.
She doesn't know me that well and has no clue that this is seriously unusual behavior from me.

Took a bath for about three minutes before dropping my kindle in the water. Really?

Depression: Fool! You know better than that shit. Serves you right. Would've been better off if it had electrocuted you. At least then you wouldn't be fucking up everything and other people's lives.

Got the back cover off the kindle, laid it out to dry. Took a pill to help me sleep and alternately stared at the ceiling and cried for an hour before going to sleep.

Woke up late because of the sleeping tablet and rushed through to get to work this morning. This morning, I'm back on my even keel and doing just fine.

Hallelujah. If that nonsense had continued, I would've had to make an apt with the Psychiatrist and switch up meds or something.

I can tell when it's my depression talking. I can argue it down with common sense most of the time. Yesterday was plain awful. Today is pretty good and hopefully tonight will be awesome.






 

New Car!

I'm getting a new car on thursday evening. I can't wait. It's little and cute and sporty and green and I love it love it love it!
No more disintegrating leather on the steering wheel.
No more antenna stuck in the up position.
No more cassette tape stuck in the deck.
No more overheating.
No more disconnecting the battery.
No more trunk that destroys things.
No more chipped paint.
No more florida fade.
No more cloudy headlights.
No more dented bumper.
No more mystery stain.
No more ground in smoker smell.
No more cigarette burns.
No more wondering if I can fit in that spot.
Clean and shiny and pretty and new!
One more day. One more day.

Favorite Songs

1. Mike &the Mechanics - The Living Years
2. Leonard Cohen - Hallelujah
3. Unknown - As the Deer Panteth For the Water
4. Pachelbel - Canon
5. Etta James - At Last
6. Annette Hanshaw - I Wanna Be Loved You
7. Kristy McNichol - Hold On
8. Simon & Garfunkel - Richard Cory
9. Simon & Garfunkel - Sound of Silence
10. Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man
11. Mumford & Sons - Sigh No More
12. Indigo Girls - Closer to Fine
Why?
Obviously I enjoy sad story songs with good melody and if you give me harmonization as well I'm in heaven

The State of My Mind

I have an appointment with a shrink on the 14th. I keep having imaginary conversations with my shrink-to-be. Explaining that I'm not really crazy and just need some drugs to keep me that way.

I'm depressed. No suicidal ideation as yet. (For the layman that means I'm not making plans to off myself)

I have a personal history of depression starting as a teenager. Then as I grew it stabilized to just ruining my life in the winter.

Every winter, I'd go into hibernation. Didn't want to leave the house or see anyone, talk to anyone, or do anything.

I decided I deserved having my winters back so I moved to Florida.
Year One, no depression at all.
Year 2-7 still good.
Year 8: 2 dead grandparents and trips to cold climate meant about six months of mourning/depression.
Year 9: Melancholy tendencies but no severe problems. Needed a few nudges to get out of the house.
Year 10 aka Now: I've cried every day for the last month and a half and it doesn't seem to be stopping. I'd made and canceled plans because I don't feel capable of dealing with people socially. I got off facebook because any sad post was guaranteed to make me cry. I can't deal well with other people's problems right now. I don't want to and I just can't handle it. I started staying up insanely late to read or watch tv or avoid reality in other ways. This leaves me tired and worn out and doing a shit job at work. I can't concentrate on tasks. I can't get my shit together.

I'm tired, lonely, and don't feel like anyone could understand. Then I started thinking that maybe I just wasn't worth bothering about. That is what made me pick up the phone and make an appointment.

I'd been down that road before. That way leads to  knives and death plans and making really, really bad decisions.

I'm doing what I should be. Get outside, see the sun.
Find activities that make me happy.
Eat my veggies.

I'm trying. Really trying the best that I can.

I started losing my temper and snapping at people.  Swearing at one and hanging up in their face. I haven't hung up on someone since I was a teenager.

I hate getting angry. I keep a lid on it tight 99% of the time. I look at the bigger picture and remember that anger doesn't achieve anything.

But when you aren't being listened to, sometimes you need to yell. And right now I feel like no one is listening.