Well. Uh. It's been over a week. Dammit. I really should get better at this again.
Anyhoo.
Previous weigh in: 204.8
Today's weigh in: 204.2
Which means: loss of .6lbs
Okay, that's not a lot. And considering I skipped a week, it's likely that I gained weight at some point and probably lost some again.
My scale said I was 39.9% bodyfat this morning.
I'm going to a breakfast with Prince T this morning at my workplace. It's a Christmas thing and I'm not big on Christmas, but there'll be free food and also he's wanted to meet some of my co-workers for a while. He's not entirely convinced they all exist to the ridiculous extent that they do. I know the food will be tasty, and real, since it's being cooked by my boss this morning. I have no doubts in his abilities to make eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, and hashbrowns. I'll try not to go overboard, and considering how little I normally eat in the morning, this shouldn't be too difficult.
I need to quit eating out (fast food). I always end up getting more food than I actually need and then eating it all at once anyway. Even if the individual items aren't really that bad, what difference does it make if they end up totaling over 1,000 calories for one meal? Granted, I've only been eating one meal a day lately, but that has to be rectified as well. I'm going to continue my weekly ritual of eating out to a sit down restaurant once a week, finances willing. I just have to start making better choices there (like, not everything fried. my poor stomach).
Prince T is trying to convince me to get a gym membership with him and I keep just giggling at him every time. I know he means well and I know gyms are good things, but we don't do even remotely the same things at the gym. I do mostly cardio with a little bit of weights. He does all weights. It's not like we'd be keeping each other company at the gym at that rate. And I wanted to get a small, inexpensive home elliptical machine. So that would cover my cardio. I can get a small set of weights, as well, and that'll cover strength training. I don't really need the gym. He does, since he's doing some major strength training and bulking up, but not me.
Hopefully I'll have next Sunday off and can do my weigh in then. Or I'll just start keeping a note pad in the bathroom so I can write down the numbers before I go to work. That would be infinitely more reliable and logical, wouldn't it? I'll see if Prince T can stop by a small store or something at some point today so I can get one.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Weigh in, November 29
Previous weigh in: 206.6lbs
This morning: 204.8lbs
Which means: loss of 1.8lbs
I have no idea when to actually do my weigh-ins. I don't have a regular work schedule and I don't like to do it before work, because I usually forget what the scale said that morning and I don't have time to update my blog or write it down before work.
Also, my scale says I'm about 40% body fat (40.3? 40.8? Something like that.) That's a LOT. Gosh. I think that's less than last week, though? I can't entirely remember, since I didn't write it down. I'll try to from now on.
This morning: 204.8lbs
Which means: loss of 1.8lbs
I have no idea when to actually do my weigh-ins. I don't have a regular work schedule and I don't like to do it before work, because I usually forget what the scale said that morning and I don't have time to update my blog or write it down before work.
Also, my scale says I'm about 40% body fat (40.3? 40.8? Something like that.) That's a LOT. Gosh. I think that's less than last week, though? I can't entirely remember, since I didn't write it down. I'll try to from now on.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Met
Met my goal of 300 minutes of exercise this month. Unfortunately, it was all just walking and nothing extra. However, it's something. Next month's goal will be 400 minutes. Now that I have a working scale, it's taking everything in my power not to weigh myself more than once a week. It's a kind of fancy scale, too, that gives body fat percentages and all that, which is really neat.
I have a LOT of housework to do, so I'm very unlikely to be doing any exercise aside from that and walking for the next month or two. I need to completely clean out the storage room, clean the kitchen top to bottom, the living room top to bottom, the second floor bathroom top to the bottom, the third floor bathroom the same. The game room needs to be cleaned out, too, and my own room and the third floor hallway. It's kind of like spring cleaning, but way before spring. My sister's coming to visit and I haven't seen her in about three or four years, so I'm pretty excited to have everything super awesome and special for her when she shows up. I'll try and remember to wear my heart rate monitor while cleaning to see what that does for me, since I'll be running up and down three flights of stairs that whole time. I have until about March or so, but I don't want to leave this all for last second. We're turning the storage room into the guest room, so that's the first big thing to tackle.
One of my hopes with her visiting is that it'll be incentive to really lose some weight. I don't want to be this weight, or anywhere near it, when she shows up. I don't know why, but I really want her to see that I've lost weight. Probably because I know she's the only one in my family aside from my father, really, who wanted me to lose weight for all the right reasons and was never a jerk about it. She never once called me fat or anything growing up and she always was really gentle in her encouragement. She's also pretty much the only person in my family who's encouraged me to just be me. She means a lot to me, so I can't wait to see her again. It'll also be the first time I'll be meeting my niece, and the second time I'll be meeting my nephew. I have six nieces and nephews total, but those two are the ones I never see.
I really want to rework my goals for weightloss and my rewards system. I want to take this slowly, and take it one step at a time. I really think I was too stuck on the big picture last time. It was one thing for me to have lost 11 pounds or so, but I STILL had 70 or so left and that was just disheartening. I know a lot of people out there started with way more than I did, or still have way more than I do to lose, but I'm not them. I'm me. I appreciate the weight I've lost so far and the amount I've managed to keep off, but I'm not healthy this way. I'm perfectly happy, aside from the health issues. So, the health issues need to be addressed. I want to take this more on the strain of five pounds at a time. I'll lose five, see how I feel, and decide if another five need to go. Chances are I will decide that yes, another five need to be lost a few times, seeing as I'm at over 200lbs. I'm pretty sure some of that is gained weight from this summer and such, but I'm not sure how much of it is because of my scale situation.
I'm likely going to be going to a psychiatrist at some point within the next few months. Prince T is really encouraging it so I can get some updated diagnoses and maybe see if I can get some health insurance based on this. This would also make it easier to get benefits set up for myself if I end up unable to work thanks to my mental problems. These are things I've always worried about, but I didn't think just getting a diagnosis would do anything. Prince T is pretty insistent on it, and he's sure it will do a world of good for me to just have that on my medical record. To be honest, I'm terrified of going. He's going to have to drag me kicking and screaming into that office when the time comes and I know it. But I also know it's in my best interest to go, at least once.
I have a LOT of housework to do, so I'm very unlikely to be doing any exercise aside from that and walking for the next month or two. I need to completely clean out the storage room, clean the kitchen top to bottom, the living room top to bottom, the second floor bathroom top to the bottom, the third floor bathroom the same. The game room needs to be cleaned out, too, and my own room and the third floor hallway. It's kind of like spring cleaning, but way before spring. My sister's coming to visit and I haven't seen her in about three or four years, so I'm pretty excited to have everything super awesome and special for her when she shows up. I'll try and remember to wear my heart rate monitor while cleaning to see what that does for me, since I'll be running up and down three flights of stairs that whole time. I have until about March or so, but I don't want to leave this all for last second. We're turning the storage room into the guest room, so that's the first big thing to tackle.
One of my hopes with her visiting is that it'll be incentive to really lose some weight. I don't want to be this weight, or anywhere near it, when she shows up. I don't know why, but I really want her to see that I've lost weight. Probably because I know she's the only one in my family aside from my father, really, who wanted me to lose weight for all the right reasons and was never a jerk about it. She never once called me fat or anything growing up and she always was really gentle in her encouragement. She's also pretty much the only person in my family who's encouraged me to just be me. She means a lot to me, so I can't wait to see her again. It'll also be the first time I'll be meeting my niece, and the second time I'll be meeting my nephew. I have six nieces and nephews total, but those two are the ones I never see.
I really want to rework my goals for weightloss and my rewards system. I want to take this slowly, and take it one step at a time. I really think I was too stuck on the big picture last time. It was one thing for me to have lost 11 pounds or so, but I STILL had 70 or so left and that was just disheartening. I know a lot of people out there started with way more than I did, or still have way more than I do to lose, but I'm not them. I'm me. I appreciate the weight I've lost so far and the amount I've managed to keep off, but I'm not healthy this way. I'm perfectly happy, aside from the health issues. So, the health issues need to be addressed. I want to take this more on the strain of five pounds at a time. I'll lose five, see how I feel, and decide if another five need to go. Chances are I will decide that yes, another five need to be lost a few times, seeing as I'm at over 200lbs. I'm pretty sure some of that is gained weight from this summer and such, but I'm not sure how much of it is because of my scale situation.
I'm likely going to be going to a psychiatrist at some point within the next few months. Prince T is really encouraging it so I can get some updated diagnoses and maybe see if I can get some health insurance based on this. This would also make it easier to get benefits set up for myself if I end up unable to work thanks to my mental problems. These are things I've always worried about, but I didn't think just getting a diagnosis would do anything. Prince T is pretty insistent on it, and he's sure it will do a world of good for me to just have that on my medical record. To be honest, I'm terrified of going. He's going to have to drag me kicking and screaming into that office when the time comes and I know it. But I also know it's in my best interest to go, at least once.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Finally
Finally got a new scale last night. I only weighed in this morning,though. Because I don't know how long, exactly, my scale was bonkers, I'm changing my starting weight to the one the new scale said. I don't really think it's fair to compare the weights from two different scales. Here's hoping that maybe knowing the numbers will help keep me in check? Will be updating measurements as soon as I find the darned tape measure, too.
As for the weight, I came in at 206.6lbs today.
As for the weight, I came in at 206.6lbs today.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
It's hard
To stay motivated, anyhow.
I want to just do what I want to do. I don't want to give myself any rules and I don't want to worry about numbers or grams or pounds or anything. I don't want to worry about fat or protein or sodium. I don't want to watch my caffeine intake. I don't want to take vitamins.
I also don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to have such a difficult time finding clothing. I don't want to do the seesaw yo yo game. I don't want to be tired or sick or sluggish anymore. I don't want to have to worry about whether I'm too heavy or too big. I don't want to have to worry about my health any more than a woman of 21 years should.
As I type this, I've got a fairly horrific pain in my right arm. It started in my hand and traveled its way up to my upper arm. It's still kind of in my hand and through my forearm, but it's mostly in my upper arm now. This is normal for me. This is normal for my legs, as well. This isn't normal. I don't know what it is, to a certain extent I have an idea of what it could be, but I don't want to self-diagnose.
Basically, I'm just sick of worrying. And I'm sick of making myself sick.
When I get a new scale, I'll weigh myself again. I'll start taking measurements again soon as well. I still stand firm on that I won't be counting calories. I will be watching fat, sodium, protein, fibre, sugars, etc, though. I'm still walking a lot, so that isn't really going to change in and of itself. Once I get the gaming room clean again, I can start playing my various dancing games again. Also need to make room for the elliptical I want to buy. Hopefully that will be happening within the next week as well.
We'll see. I'll be checking in.
I want to just do what I want to do. I don't want to give myself any rules and I don't want to worry about numbers or grams or pounds or anything. I don't want to worry about fat or protein or sodium. I don't want to watch my caffeine intake. I don't want to take vitamins.
I also don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to have such a difficult time finding clothing. I don't want to do the seesaw yo yo game. I don't want to be tired or sick or sluggish anymore. I don't want to have to worry about whether I'm too heavy or too big. I don't want to have to worry about my health any more than a woman of 21 years should.
As I type this, I've got a fairly horrific pain in my right arm. It started in my hand and traveled its way up to my upper arm. It's still kind of in my hand and through my forearm, but it's mostly in my upper arm now. This is normal for me. This is normal for my legs, as well. This isn't normal. I don't know what it is, to a certain extent I have an idea of what it could be, but I don't want to self-diagnose.
Basically, I'm just sick of worrying. And I'm sick of making myself sick.
When I get a new scale, I'll weigh myself again. I'll start taking measurements again soon as well. I still stand firm on that I won't be counting calories. I will be watching fat, sodium, protein, fibre, sugars, etc, though. I'm still walking a lot, so that isn't really going to change in and of itself. Once I get the gaming room clean again, I can start playing my various dancing games again. Also need to make room for the elliptical I want to buy. Hopefully that will be happening within the next week as well.
We'll see. I'll be checking in.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Happy Halloween!
It's Halloween today! I hope you all have a wonderful, fun, and safe Halloween in whatever way you decide to celebrate it. And for those who don't, happy Monday!
Tonight I'm going to UMASS to watch a performance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It's one of my favorite movies, but I've never seen it performed live before. I'm fairly excited and I can't wait to go see it tonight.
Breakfast was half of a honey and peanut butter sandwich and a fruit and nut granola bar. Lunch was a hot turkey and cheese sandwich and a cracker and cheese snack.
Not entirely sure what dinner's going to look like, considering I'll be out and about for Halloween. Hopefully something tasty.
Tonight I'm going to UMASS to watch a performance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It's one of my favorite movies, but I've never seen it performed live before. I'm fairly excited and I can't wait to go see it tonight.
Breakfast was half of a honey and peanut butter sandwich and a fruit and nut granola bar. Lunch was a hot turkey and cheese sandwich and a cracker and cheese snack.
Not entirely sure what dinner's going to look like, considering I'll be out and about for Halloween. Hopefully something tasty.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Salem, Rocky Horror, Halloween, oh my!
A good portion of yesterday was spent in Salem, MA. We left early in the morning (M, Prince T, and I) and had an early breakfast. I had a peppermint hotchocolate and a mcgriddle. They tried to poison me with a mocha (CAFFEIIIINE) but I refused to take it. I wanted my hot chocolate, dammit. It was cold and it was early and I knew it would wake me up and perk me up. Prince T demolished a cup of coffee. Poor guy isn't used to waking up so early on non-class days.
We did a lot of walking. A lot of it. We drove to Salem without any stops and some...minor...issues. (Oh, Boston) We then proceeded to get lost in Salem before we even got to Derby Street or the historic district. So, we walked back to the car and then managed to walk in the RIGHT direction this time. We went to the pirate museum, which we loved (especially Prince T), walked around the old burial ground, and then did some shopping.
I managed to score myself an Isis ring, an eye of Horus necklace, and a really beautiful ankh. Along with a box for my tarot deck with an eye of Horus on it. I passed up a lot of stuff, I yearned for much more, and I vowed to come back for it all. Prince T was a good sport about all the religious stuff shopping. He even sat down in the corner of one store with a great big copy of the Lesser Keys and proceeded to read it while I wandered around trying to find things that weren't too ostentatious for me. And relevant at the same time. I teased him that I'd get him a wax working seal from the Goetia if he promised never, ever to use it and he kind of grinned at me. The idea amused him, I think, especially after reading that book for so long. He was sad to leave it behind (it was $50).
We wandered around a lot more. Went to the witch history museum and then it started to rain. While we still wanted to go to the witch dungeon museum, the witch house, the Witches' Cottage, Count Orlok's, some haunted houses, Gallows Hill, and the pit...well. It was raining. And Prince T was worried about freezing rain on the way back. So we went back to the car. M and I stopped by a Starbucks on the way back. I got a green tea and a red velvet mini whoopie pie.
In the car, I devoured a turkey and cheese sandwich we'd brought and a nut and fruit granola bar. Along with my hot green tea and an iced one I'd brought from home.
Tonight, I'm going to make Prince T watch Rocky Horror Picture Show and teach him the Time Warp for when we go see it on Halloween night done by the UMASS theatre company.
I have no idea how much I walked yesterday, but it felt like a lot. And my bag was heavy, which made it feel even longer.
Here's hoping when we go again this summer, that the weather doesn't turn on us again!
We did a lot of walking. A lot of it. We drove to Salem without any stops and some...minor...issues. (Oh, Boston) We then proceeded to get lost in Salem before we even got to Derby Street or the historic district. So, we walked back to the car and then managed to walk in the RIGHT direction this time. We went to the pirate museum, which we loved (especially Prince T), walked around the old burial ground, and then did some shopping.
I managed to score myself an Isis ring, an eye of Horus necklace, and a really beautiful ankh. Along with a box for my tarot deck with an eye of Horus on it. I passed up a lot of stuff, I yearned for much more, and I vowed to come back for it all. Prince T was a good sport about all the religious stuff shopping. He even sat down in the corner of one store with a great big copy of the Lesser Keys and proceeded to read it while I wandered around trying to find things that weren't too ostentatious for me. And relevant at the same time. I teased him that I'd get him a wax working seal from the Goetia if he promised never, ever to use it and he kind of grinned at me. The idea amused him, I think, especially after reading that book for so long. He was sad to leave it behind (it was $50).
We wandered around a lot more. Went to the witch history museum and then it started to rain. While we still wanted to go to the witch dungeon museum, the witch house, the Witches' Cottage, Count Orlok's, some haunted houses, Gallows Hill, and the pit...well. It was raining. And Prince T was worried about freezing rain on the way back. So we went back to the car. M and I stopped by a Starbucks on the way back. I got a green tea and a red velvet mini whoopie pie.
In the car, I devoured a turkey and cheese sandwich we'd brought and a nut and fruit granola bar. Along with my hot green tea and an iced one I'd brought from home.
Tonight, I'm going to make Prince T watch Rocky Horror Picture Show and teach him the Time Warp for when we go see it on Halloween night done by the UMASS theatre company.
I have no idea how much I walked yesterday, but it felt like a lot. And my bag was heavy, which made it feel even longer.
Here's hoping when we go again this summer, that the weather doesn't turn on us again!
Friday, October 21, 2011
Ugh
I am ridiculously down today. Between a panic attack early last week and the freak out I had yesterday, I just have no idea where I am emotionally anymore.
The panic attack happened at work. It was mostly just my anxiety disorder rearing its ugly head. I got over it enough to go back to work that day, Prince T whisked me off to take my mind off things after work, and then I was down for a few days. I figured I had gotten over it, I was mostly back to normal.
Yesterday was an eventful day. It was my day off and I got dragged off to Dartmouth to go help move an arcade machine. Yes, you heard that right. M bought an arcade machine. We get there and he looks at the back of it and peeks around the machine at me and says, "Hey, Princess, how many pounds is 233 kg?"
My jaw dropped. "233 kilograms?! Are you SERIOUS?" He nodded, expecting an answer! So, I said, "I think that's around 500, maybe 510 POUNDS." (I checked when I got home, 233kg is 512lbs, just about)
And we stared at each other.We had been guessing this thing would cap out at 300, maybe 350lbs. We were not expecting this machine to actually weigh that much. It wasn't a very big machine! (Fighting Mania, for all those familiar. And if you are, you're shaking your fist is sheer envy and rage that M got his hands on a working machine.)
We had a van, a way too small dolly, no ramp, no jack of any sort. And we had M's friend, Al, who was about our size and maybe as strong. I'm not very strong, neither is M. (M and Al can comfortably lift up to 100lbs without hurting themselves, I can do about 50lbs.)
But! We figured the joint effort would do it! (even though we had a combined lifting power of 250lbs, but nevermind!) The machine was on wheels, so getting it TO the van wouldn't be an issue. We were mostly worried about getting it INTO the van. So, fast forward about an hour. We have not managed to get this hell machine into the van. It's 10am, I know Prince T is sleeping, but I know he doesn't have class. I make a desperate call to him, beg beg begging him to come help us. He's got a foot on all of us and is stronger than any one single person we had. SURELY with his help, we could get this blasted thing into the van, right?
Much pulling, pushing, screaming, kicking, swearing, and cursing later, that dreadful machine was in the back of the van. M was crushed between it and the back door, I was in the bitchseat between the driver and passenger seat (don't tell me how illegal this setup was, we were all aware). The other two boys got their own seats. We get to the storage locker M rented and we manage with MUCH LESS EFFORT to get this behemoth out of the van, into the building, and into the locker.
Much rejoicing. Prince T kicked a random stick and screamed at it. We all swore we would never look at that goddamn machine again...or at least for another two or three years. We piled into the van, M in the passenger seat, Prince T and I hiding in the back, Al driving. Eventually, we refilled the tank, got the demon van back to the rental place, and then Prince T and I went off to have a magical adventure at his place.
By magical adventure, I mean we proceeded to pass out in his room from the monumental effort of moving a 512lb arcade machine from the mall to a storage locker in another town. We slept. I'm not sure for how long, really, because I don't even know when we fell asleep. But I'd guess around 5pm.
During this nap, I had a nightmare. A fairly awful one, actually. I react really physically to my dreams most of the time. It's not uncommon for me to cry or scream in my sleep. This time, I was twitching around and convulsing a bit. I remember Prince T waking me up, just barely hearing him say, "Are you alright? Are you okay? You're twitching. What's wrong?"
And then I crashed. The twitching turned into full on convulsing. I couldn't control it and I was just clinging onto him and having full body spasms every few seconds. I could barely talk, not doing much other than whimpering and whining. I kept trying to curl up and hide, but that wasn't really possible with him holding onto me, so I just kept twitching and shaking. He kept talking to me the whole time, trying to calm me down (reassuring me I was safe, that it hadn't been real, etc). Eventually, I calmed down, just twitching a little bit, breathing mostly normally. I was talking a bit at the point, a bit strained and really quiet and mumbling, but I was talking. He eventually got me to leave the dorm room for a little walk, something to eat, and then we went back to his room where he proceeded to distract me with Nosferatu and Dr. Strangelove.
He cheered me up, quite a bit, but I'm still not 100%. I didn't sleep well last night. I kept waking up every hour or two. No dreams that I can remember, but always this feel of a slight swell of panic.
So right now, I'm depressed, exhausted, and a little shaky. I have work in an hour and I don't really want to go, but I'm going anyhow. It might be a good distraction for me. I'll pull out of this, I always do. I'm just hoping I don't pull out of this using food.
I had a heavy breakfast. An egg and bacon and cheese sandwich with some juice. A lighter lunch, just a hotdog with some tea. This should hold me through my five hours of work today. I'll likely have a lighter snack once I get out and then some chili for dinner.
The panic attack happened at work. It was mostly just my anxiety disorder rearing its ugly head. I got over it enough to go back to work that day, Prince T whisked me off to take my mind off things after work, and then I was down for a few days. I figured I had gotten over it, I was mostly back to normal.
Yesterday was an eventful day. It was my day off and I got dragged off to Dartmouth to go help move an arcade machine. Yes, you heard that right. M bought an arcade machine. We get there and he looks at the back of it and peeks around the machine at me and says, "Hey, Princess, how many pounds is 233 kg?"
My jaw dropped. "233 kilograms?! Are you SERIOUS?" He nodded, expecting an answer! So, I said, "I think that's around 500, maybe 510 POUNDS." (I checked when I got home, 233kg is 512lbs, just about)
And we stared at each other.We had been guessing this thing would cap out at 300, maybe 350lbs. We were not expecting this machine to actually weigh that much. It wasn't a very big machine! (Fighting Mania, for all those familiar. And if you are, you're shaking your fist is sheer envy and rage that M got his hands on a working machine.)
We had a van, a way too small dolly, no ramp, no jack of any sort. And we had M's friend, Al, who was about our size and maybe as strong. I'm not very strong, neither is M. (M and Al can comfortably lift up to 100lbs without hurting themselves, I can do about 50lbs.)
But! We figured the joint effort would do it! (even though we had a combined lifting power of 250lbs, but nevermind!) The machine was on wheels, so getting it TO the van wouldn't be an issue. We were mostly worried about getting it INTO the van. So, fast forward about an hour. We have not managed to get this hell machine into the van. It's 10am, I know Prince T is sleeping, but I know he doesn't have class. I make a desperate call to him, beg beg begging him to come help us. He's got a foot on all of us and is stronger than any one single person we had. SURELY with his help, we could get this blasted thing into the van, right?
Much pulling, pushing, screaming, kicking, swearing, and cursing later, that dreadful machine was in the back of the van. M was crushed between it and the back door, I was in the bitchseat between the driver and passenger seat (don't tell me how illegal this setup was, we were all aware). The other two boys got their own seats. We get to the storage locker M rented and we manage with MUCH LESS EFFORT to get this behemoth out of the van, into the building, and into the locker.
Much rejoicing. Prince T kicked a random stick and screamed at it. We all swore we would never look at that goddamn machine again...or at least for another two or three years. We piled into the van, M in the passenger seat, Prince T and I hiding in the back, Al driving. Eventually, we refilled the tank, got the demon van back to the rental place, and then Prince T and I went off to have a magical adventure at his place.
By magical adventure, I mean we proceeded to pass out in his room from the monumental effort of moving a 512lb arcade machine from the mall to a storage locker in another town. We slept. I'm not sure for how long, really, because I don't even know when we fell asleep. But I'd guess around 5pm.
During this nap, I had a nightmare. A fairly awful one, actually. I react really physically to my dreams most of the time. It's not uncommon for me to cry or scream in my sleep. This time, I was twitching around and convulsing a bit. I remember Prince T waking me up, just barely hearing him say, "Are you alright? Are you okay? You're twitching. What's wrong?"
And then I crashed. The twitching turned into full on convulsing. I couldn't control it and I was just clinging onto him and having full body spasms every few seconds. I could barely talk, not doing much other than whimpering and whining. I kept trying to curl up and hide, but that wasn't really possible with him holding onto me, so I just kept twitching and shaking. He kept talking to me the whole time, trying to calm me down (reassuring me I was safe, that it hadn't been real, etc). Eventually, I calmed down, just twitching a little bit, breathing mostly normally. I was talking a bit at the point, a bit strained and really quiet and mumbling, but I was talking. He eventually got me to leave the dorm room for a little walk, something to eat, and then we went back to his room where he proceeded to distract me with Nosferatu and Dr. Strangelove.
He cheered me up, quite a bit, but I'm still not 100%. I didn't sleep well last night. I kept waking up every hour or two. No dreams that I can remember, but always this feel of a slight swell of panic.
So right now, I'm depressed, exhausted, and a little shaky. I have work in an hour and I don't really want to go, but I'm going anyhow. It might be a good distraction for me. I'll pull out of this, I always do. I'm just hoping I don't pull out of this using food.
I had a heavy breakfast. An egg and bacon and cheese sandwich with some juice. A lighter lunch, just a hotdog with some tea. This should hold me through my five hours of work today. I'll likely have a lighter snack once I get out and then some chili for dinner.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Recollection
"And I remember screaming at her, 'I don't deserve to be treated like this,' before I ran off up the stairs because I knew she wouldn't be able to follow me."
"You DON'T deserve to be treated like that. Don't ever believe her. She's just projecting onto you."
My last post touched a lot on how my mother was the biggest reason I had self esteem issues. Last night, on an unrelated topic, my mother came up in conversation with Prince T. We were talking about the last time we had cried, it had stemmed from a fairly silly conversational topic, but ended up getting a bit serious.
A bit of backstory. I used to have really awful anger problems as a kid, all the way through middle school. I'd break things, throw things, generally scream and be a nasty, awful person. It didn't take much to get me to fly off the handle. I found out later this was mostly from my bi-polar disorder, but at the time this was all happening, no one knew. And I just seemed crazy and over sensitive. I learned to control my anger (and my temper, oh Prince T is wincing at that word right now) and not to resort to really destructive means to deal with it. When I get overwhelmed by it, though, my reaction is to just start crying. Because this is the most healthy, effective, least destructive form of my expressing my anger. I don't hurt anyone this way, verbally or physically. I don't break anything this way. It's much better for me. I usually don't get to that point anymore, but it does happen.
Also, I cry when I have panic attacks. So, this conversation was excluding when I cry out of anger or a panic attack or just being emotionally overwhelmed (because of my bi-polar).
Last summer, I was unemployed, as you know from my blog posts. I was living with my parents and having to rely on them, which felt absolutely awful. Mik had a job and he was supporting me a bit, as well, which also made me feel awful. I only had Mik and N at the time in the area, no other friends that I had contact with. I was lonely and depressed most of the time and just generally really miserable.
One day I made my way downstairs to go talk to my mother. I don't even make it to the last step before she starts screaming at me over a phone that had been left overnight out of its charger. A phone I hadn't even used. But clearly, it was my fault and no one else's. Clearly it was my fault even though I haven't touched a land line since I got a cellphone. I just stood there, staring at her, not really sure how this was happening or why. She switched her topic of 'lecture' to now be about how useless I was, how I wasn't accomplishing anything and how I was just sitting around and doing nothing with my life. Me, who had been walking miles and miles whenever dad was at work so I could put in applications for jobs. Me, who searched online for applications. Me, who managed to scrape together a few extra bucks by doing odd online jobs (writing articles, short stories, taking surveys, etc). I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't trying. I was useless.
Useless.
That's a recurring theme in my life. I felt useless for a long time before I moved back in with my parents. Long before I left home. I felt useless and awful and stupid, ugly, fat, all those negative things.
I never stood up for myself as a child against my mother. I know my mother loves me, I know she wants what's best for me. But the culture she's from isn't a kind one all the time. The part of Portugal we're from is very harsh. Failure isn't taken well. You're hard on your children to teach them the world. Tough love is a standard. But I've never reacted well to any of that. I'm sure that doesn't hurt some people, but I'm also sure most people can't handle 21 years of that and not come out emotionally damaged.
I stood up for myself last year that day. I screamed at her that I didn't deserve to be treated that way. That I didn't deserve to be treated like crap for things that weren't my fault. That I was trying my best and it wasn't my fault jobs are hard to come by in this city (one of the poorest in Massachusetts), that I had been trying hard to make extra money, that I had been cleaning all the time just to stop thinking about how miserable I was. I told her it wasn't fair she was making me feel so awful because SHE'S miserable. I told her I was done taking it. I was done just letting her rail into me like that.
I don't deserve to be treated that way.
And so I went upstairs and cried. Cried for all the years I just took that. Cried for the way she's always made me feel. Cried for how miserable I was. Cried and cried and cried until I was sick. I called N and had him take me away, whisk me off somewhere. I touched on this briefly last year, actually. Right here, for a refresher. I was down for days afterwards, but managed to pull out of it.
My mother DID apologize when I got home. She told me she was sorry for flying off the handle the way she had, told me she was sorry for what she'd said and that she hadn't intended on making me feel so bad. She hasn't done anything that bad since then, even though she does still call attention to my weight every chance she gets.
Prince T hates these stories, these things that come up and I don't realize how awful they are until I think back on them.
I love my mother, despite everything she's made me feel. She's a wonderful woman who does care very deeply for me. She'd give anything to make me happy and she tries her hardest to give me everything I could possibly ever want or need. through some talks, we've been able to mend this relationship a bit. She's being more gentle, I'm being less sensitive. I know I haven't always been the perfect daughter, and I'm still not. But she's not been the perfect mother, either. But we're both trying and this is getting better.
Maybe one day, these stories will be just that; stories of things that happened to me in the past, not a day or two ago.
I'll think back and remember how I used to feel, how I got past it, and how I didn't just eat my problems away like my father would have suggested I do. I hope next year, I'll have much fewer stories to tell about my mother that are negative and many more positive ones.
This blog is shifting away from weight loss, it seems, and more to my personal life and such. If that's an issue, I'm sorry. But I do think these things are important to look at, especially since I'm a very emotionally driven person. Prince T is very logical, he's all numbers and facts. I'm very emotional, all colors and feelings. I suppose together we equal out to a more rational and sane person. (Okay, maybe sane wasn't the best choice of word there, all considered anyone who knows us very well)
I still am going to talk a lot about my health, size, weight, and healthy eating. I still want to talk about food and how to not become a miserable person hiding in their room stuffing down every negative feeling with cookies.
"You DON'T deserve to be treated like that. Don't ever believe her. She's just projecting onto you."
My last post touched a lot on how my mother was the biggest reason I had self esteem issues. Last night, on an unrelated topic, my mother came up in conversation with Prince T. We were talking about the last time we had cried, it had stemmed from a fairly silly conversational topic, but ended up getting a bit serious.
A bit of backstory. I used to have really awful anger problems as a kid, all the way through middle school. I'd break things, throw things, generally scream and be a nasty, awful person. It didn't take much to get me to fly off the handle. I found out later this was mostly from my bi-polar disorder, but at the time this was all happening, no one knew. And I just seemed crazy and over sensitive. I learned to control my anger (and my temper, oh Prince T is wincing at that word right now) and not to resort to really destructive means to deal with it. When I get overwhelmed by it, though, my reaction is to just start crying. Because this is the most healthy, effective, least destructive form of my expressing my anger. I don't hurt anyone this way, verbally or physically. I don't break anything this way. It's much better for me. I usually don't get to that point anymore, but it does happen.
Also, I cry when I have panic attacks. So, this conversation was excluding when I cry out of anger or a panic attack or just being emotionally overwhelmed (because of my bi-polar).
Last summer, I was unemployed, as you know from my blog posts. I was living with my parents and having to rely on them, which felt absolutely awful. Mik had a job and he was supporting me a bit, as well, which also made me feel awful. I only had Mik and N at the time in the area, no other friends that I had contact with. I was lonely and depressed most of the time and just generally really miserable.
One day I made my way downstairs to go talk to my mother. I don't even make it to the last step before she starts screaming at me over a phone that had been left overnight out of its charger. A phone I hadn't even used. But clearly, it was my fault and no one else's. Clearly it was my fault even though I haven't touched a land line since I got a cellphone. I just stood there, staring at her, not really sure how this was happening or why. She switched her topic of 'lecture' to now be about how useless I was, how I wasn't accomplishing anything and how I was just sitting around and doing nothing with my life. Me, who had been walking miles and miles whenever dad was at work so I could put in applications for jobs. Me, who searched online for applications. Me, who managed to scrape together a few extra bucks by doing odd online jobs (writing articles, short stories, taking surveys, etc). I wasn't doing anything. I wasn't trying. I was useless.
Useless.
That's a recurring theme in my life. I felt useless for a long time before I moved back in with my parents. Long before I left home. I felt useless and awful and stupid, ugly, fat, all those negative things.
I never stood up for myself as a child against my mother. I know my mother loves me, I know she wants what's best for me. But the culture she's from isn't a kind one all the time. The part of Portugal we're from is very harsh. Failure isn't taken well. You're hard on your children to teach them the world. Tough love is a standard. But I've never reacted well to any of that. I'm sure that doesn't hurt some people, but I'm also sure most people can't handle 21 years of that and not come out emotionally damaged.
I stood up for myself last year that day. I screamed at her that I didn't deserve to be treated that way. That I didn't deserve to be treated like crap for things that weren't my fault. That I was trying my best and it wasn't my fault jobs are hard to come by in this city (one of the poorest in Massachusetts), that I had been trying hard to make extra money, that I had been cleaning all the time just to stop thinking about how miserable I was. I told her it wasn't fair she was making me feel so awful because SHE'S miserable. I told her I was done taking it. I was done just letting her rail into me like that.
I don't deserve to be treated that way.
And so I went upstairs and cried. Cried for all the years I just took that. Cried for the way she's always made me feel. Cried for how miserable I was. Cried and cried and cried until I was sick. I called N and had him take me away, whisk me off somewhere. I touched on this briefly last year, actually. Right here, for a refresher. I was down for days afterwards, but managed to pull out of it.
My mother DID apologize when I got home. She told me she was sorry for flying off the handle the way she had, told me she was sorry for what she'd said and that she hadn't intended on making me feel so bad. She hasn't done anything that bad since then, even though she does still call attention to my weight every chance she gets.
Prince T hates these stories, these things that come up and I don't realize how awful they are until I think back on them.
I love my mother, despite everything she's made me feel. She's a wonderful woman who does care very deeply for me. She'd give anything to make me happy and she tries her hardest to give me everything I could possibly ever want or need. through some talks, we've been able to mend this relationship a bit. She's being more gentle, I'm being less sensitive. I know I haven't always been the perfect daughter, and I'm still not. But she's not been the perfect mother, either. But we're both trying and this is getting better.
Maybe one day, these stories will be just that; stories of things that happened to me in the past, not a day or two ago.
I'll think back and remember how I used to feel, how I got past it, and how I didn't just eat my problems away like my father would have suggested I do. I hope next year, I'll have much fewer stories to tell about my mother that are negative and many more positive ones.
This blog is shifting away from weight loss, it seems, and more to my personal life and such. If that's an issue, I'm sorry. But I do think these things are important to look at, especially since I'm a very emotionally driven person. Prince T is very logical, he's all numbers and facts. I'm very emotional, all colors and feelings. I suppose together we equal out to a more rational and sane person. (Okay, maybe sane wasn't the best choice of word there, all considered anyone who knows us very well)
I still am going to talk a lot about my health, size, weight, and healthy eating. I still want to talk about food and how to not become a miserable person hiding in their room stuffing down every negative feeling with cookies.
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