DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS (mine . . .)

It is 1:57 AM on a Sunday night/Monday morning, and I have just eaten a small Fuji apple. This is very unusual for me. Not the insomnia part, unfortunately, but the apple. I am trying to live my life better, but I'm not doing such a great job. The apple, I think, was my attempt to counteract all the negative shit I put myself through, not just tonight, but EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE. Don't worry; I really am going to tell you my 'dirty little secrets' today (still tonight for me). I have to, or I'll implode. Plus, as they say, "we're only as sick as our secrets." Once they're not secrets . . . who knows? There may be hope for me and my life yet . . .

Have you ever been in therapy? (I have, but I also live in L.A., where nearly everyone has). The way it often goes is this: you go in, planning to focus on some issue in your life that needs resolution, and the first few sessions with your therapist are fairly 'safe,' getting to know each other, talking about that main issue in a kind of intellectual way, seemingly delving into the whys and wherefores of the thing . . . and then if you're lucky (that is, if you really want to change your life), maybe around the 4th session . . . well, all hell breaks loose, and suddenly your neat little issue explodes into at least 50 inter-related and very messy problems that you have absolutely NO IDEA how you will ever pick up off your therapist's nice, clean floor, much less solve.

That is precisely how I feel right now. I thought I was going to blog my way into a thinner me and, along the way, become healthier, get pregnant, carry that pregnancy to term, and live happily ever after as a slim (NOT skinny), healthy mom. I thought I could keep this blog somehow uplifting, both for myself and any possible readers, and, though I was intending to keep the main focus weight and health issues, I also thought I would be addressing other "issues" from a more positive frame of mind than I had in my previous, short-lived blog.

Well, folks, guess what? It's our 4th session. I've been wanting to write for days now, even through 3 migraine headaches in one week, but I couldn't. I didn't seem to know what I wanted to say. Tonight it finally occurred to me: I need to be brutally honest, even though I am terrified of doing so. Perhaps the migraines were my body's way of telling me to get this crap out of my head and into the world, where perhaps I can DO something about it all. In no particular order, here goes . . .

1. I have Bi-Polar Disorder, which I think of in the far more descriptive, older terminology: manic depression. It went undiagnosed until I was around thirty, by which time I had done some pretty reckless, sometimes funny, sometimes scary and self-destructive, things in my life, and had also achieved what some think of as quite a bit of success in my field (several graduate degrees, etc.)

2. As if that were not enough, I suffer (and it really is suffering, if you've ever experienced it) from chronic, free-floating anxiety, sometimes only mild, usually moderate, too often full-blown panic attacks.

3. I had a physically and emotionally abusive first marriage. I'm only now, more than 15 years later, beginning to admit the trauma of that. I don't think I've actually freed myself from the demons of it, though. And I'm pretty sure there are demons from that era that still lurk . . .

4. I want to have a baby so much, always have . . . but I can't seem to carry a pregnancy to term, though I've been pregnant several times. It's been a while now, but I am terrified of having another miscarriage, losing another baby. I am more terrified of not ever getting pregnant again, having turned 40 a few months ago. I know women are having their first babies into their forties these days, and my own mother had me at 41 . . . it just doesn't seem to help that I know these things.

5. My husband and I realize that it's time to get back on the baby ride, but there's one other MAJOR thing holding me back. Remember the mental health issues I mentioned? Well, I take medications to keep them under control, and to keep me functioning in a relatively normal way. I am being weaned off them by my doctor (who's great, by the way), but the one that's holding up the baby effort, holding ME up, is the one I take for anxiety. Not only am I physically addicted (I've never said that before; I didn't like saying it. At all); more importantly, and terrifyingly, I am psychologically addicted. I do not know how I will get through the day, my life, the anxiety I feel so very often, especially when I have so many real worries: no money (many times it's not even hand to mouth); fertility worries; an elderly mother with whom I'm super close, but whom I am solely responsible for (no siblings, no other family anywhere close by); the stupid but really upsetting fights with my husband that happen way too often; our two kitties' healthcare needs that are going untended due to lack of money (they're indoors and eat healthy food, but still . . . I worry . . . are ya noticing a pattern?); my feelings of spiritual disconnection, and on and on and on . . . I think if I could have some success in the weight department, that would help me to tackle other things. Not saying that losing weight would 'fix' my life, but I do have to start somewhere, and at this point, it seems the most manageable, and symbolic, place.

6. My apparent inability to keep a clean, clutter-free house. Again, I know lots of principles that should help in this area, but I can't seem to get off my butt and apply them. Everything just overwhelms me. I know, I know . . . babysteps . . . but I don't seem able to take a single one! And sometimes, if I do manage to take one or two . . . I get stuck again, and the sense of failure just makes me feel like things will never be right.

7. My fear and anxiety about my job. I seem to be doing so well at this new one (I usually start off this way, cuz I'm smart and personable, but then I get fearful, and I'm pretty sure it translates into incompetence; bipolar folk often have job issues because of their highly stress-sensitive natures), but I feel like the more responsibility they give me (which they are, at an alarming, though flattering, rate), the more I feel like I could, at any moment, fail. This is the one that's keeping me up tonight. I have a private session with two students in the morning, and I'm not sure it will go well at all. I don't feel prepared; my clothes no longer fit (since I regained 10-12 pounds of the 22 that I had lost, buying new clothes and making alterations along the way), so I have no clue as to what to wear . . . not indecision here, just reality; I'm not likely to sleep at all, so I worry about even being coherent and getting through the day; I can't even fathom the idea of showering, it seems so exhausting!

I also can't fathom the idea of continuing on this rant anymore tonight. (Doesn't mean I'll be going to sleep, though). I wasn't always like this, but I feel beaten down by . . . I don't know . . . years of struggle and loss. If you met me, I swear you wouldn't be able to 'tell.' I'm aware of the fact that I sound classically depressed, but when you're trying to have a baby, more meds is not the answer. I've meditated in the past, but I'm afraid (surprise!) to rely solely on that to bring me peace of heart and mind. Exercise? Another thing I can't seem to do, even a little (I think, 'what the hell's a little gonna do?). If anyone is reading this, I am grateful for your time and patience. I think I feel a bit better for having done this. I hope I haven't scared you away . . .

DOING IT TO BUILD A HABIT . . .

(This is for HoniB and FatMom, my personal coaches, though they may not know it . . . I'll let you all know if their letters of resignation appear anytime soon!)

Like exercise, blogging requires discipline, yet another one of my muscles which has turned to mush. I am in the midst of one of my infamous PMS-induced migraines, this one lasting two days so far, so I'm only writing to build the habit. Maybe doing so will help me build other good habits? (soooo many to choose from . . .)

Migraines are a bitch-and-a-half, though, aren't they? Like a really bad flu + really bad hangover + two-ton truck driving over you . . . then backing up, and doing it again . . . and then once more, for good measure. Yes, yes . . . I know, I know . . . if I were taking better care of myself, eating properly, exercising, meditating, making sleep a priority, "Loving Myself", I might not be in pain right now. Also, if my COBRA insurance had kicked in and I didn't have to pay $311.00 for NINE(9) Imitrex pills (yes, my friends, that's about $35 per cute little triangular pill!), I would also be out of my misery. (BTW, who do these drug companies think they are? I mean, I know they're in with the devil, but . . . do they? Someone should tell them! What about all those folks who can't afford life-sustaining-type meds? I know there are so-called 'programs,' but i don't trust a word that comes out of the pharmacetical industry's a$$ . . . uh, mouth. It's like all those tobacco websites telling you how to quit smoking or keeping your kids from ever starting . . .bah!!!)

OK . . . I believe that was a tangent . . . but the point is, I am exercising the 'blog' muscle, right? RIGHT??? C'mon, folks, I'm an only child . . . I neeeeed the positive strokes.

I do want to mention that Denise (http://lottalatte.blogspot.com ) got married last Friday, so, if you 'know' her, or even if you don't, drop her a line.

Also, please send out your support to HoniB(http://healthyhoni.blogspot.com) and FatMom(http://fatangrywoman.blogspot.com), both of whom are embarking on exercise programs today, and next week, respectively. They ROCK!!!

Well, kids, I'll write more when the demon beast leaves my body . . . Thanks for listening to me gripe!

P.S. I know I sound like I'm scoffing at the 'love yourself' thing, but I'm not . . . just not good at it yet . . . something to explore, most def.

A BLOG BY ANY OTHER NAME . . .

I loved being part of this community last summer (on my now-retired blog), instantly felt welcomed by you wonderful people (I would like to name you all, but I've forgotten how to create links!) who so very early offered me your support, and, I feel, friendship when I started "The Unbearable Fatness of Being Me." It felt like an ideal time to deal with the issues that were (& are) keeping me fat, and to do so within this incredible community. At the time, I was also looking for a job that would supplement my husband's income, but that would also keep my stress levels low enough so that we could concentrate on getting, and staying, pregnant (we've had issues on that front as well . . . more on that later). But, hard-headed as I am, I powered my way into this teaching job that I suddenly desperately wanted (I get like that . . .), at this super-duper big-name school.

I knew what my body needed to be nurtured, and to eventually nurture another life, but the over-achieving me got caught up in the pursuit of something entirely opposed to that goal, something that seemed too good to pass up in a field that I am passionate about (teaching). Long story short (too late, I know . . .): the 'awesome' job nearly killed me. As usual, the kids were great (high school) and, as is not so usual, the pay was also great; unfortunately, the administration was not. Ninth circle of hell stuff, folks, I kid you not. A seriously disturbed principal and a few loyal minions = stress levels through the roof. No time to nurture a pet rock, much less myself, my husband, a pregnancy. I didn't have time to sleep, much less get pregnant, much less blog. Not just writing, but even reading my faves! I feel pretty guilty about that (I get like that too . . .), but I hope you guys will understand.

I finally had to make a decision: would I continue to trade my life's dreams and what little sanity I possess for the prestige and money (which was certainly helping A LOT) of that job??? I hated leaving 'my kids,' but the answer was an unequivocal "Take your money and shove it, you freaks!"(the admin., not the kids, natch). Actually, it was more like a meek "I quit" (it takes some serious emotional damage to make me meek!). And though hubs and I are pretty strapped for cash now, our priorities are getting back in focus once again.

So, okay, something happened that kept me away, but now I'm back . . . why not just continue my old, barely-used blog? Did I really have to go starting a new one? Well, yeah. Here's why: put simply, my focus has shifted. Though I'm still intent on losing weight so that I can feel the way I used to in my skin (or at least begin to feel good in it again, even if it's in a new way), there are other areas in my life that I now see as inextricably linked to that goal (which I'll get to later), and I am no longer thoroughly disgusted with myself. Therefore, I didn't think I could continue to write under the title "Unbearable Fatness." It just didn't feel right. Ya know?

See, one good thing did come out of that job: because of the insanity of it all, the over-work, the too-busy-to-eat (WHAT?! Yeah, for real . . . I know, crazy, huh?) . . . anyway, in 6 weeks I had dropped 22 pounds like . . . like, um . . . well, like I didn't think was possible for me to do! Obviously, it wasn't the healthiest way to do so (I've regained about 10 pounds in the couple months since leaving), but I finally saw that it was possible for me to lose weight. You've got to understand: I went from not-even-conscious-of-weight-skinny-chick to my present self, classic-struggling-with-weight-what's-a-portion-emotional-eating-dietschmiet-chick. I had no idea how weight loss occurs, not in real life, not on my body. NOW I DO.

I don't have a real plan yet, but consciousness is a good first step. So is this blog. I promise I'm working on the details, including how much I actually, and realistically, want to lose. I've got lots of things to sort through, past and present . . . and future, of course. I will say this, though: those twenty-two pounds did not put me very close to my old 'goal' weight . . . but having them off me felt damn good!!! It gives me a whole new perspective, for which I'm grateful. And I'm grateful to be back in the webworld. Thanks for stopping by. You guys are the sh*t!!!

WHY A NEW BLOG??? (or . . . What's in a Name)

If I go into explaining where Ive been, or what the hell happened to me for . . . (calculating here) . . . eight months(!), I'll never start this new blog, which I am commited to. Or at least, I am commited to being commited to. I am fighting some major perfectionistic-thus procrastinative (new word) tendencies here, so please, kind folk, be patient. You always have been, so I'll just stop that train right now. This is me starting. Now this is me going to sleep, promising to continue in the morning. ;~)