Thursday, January 29, 2009

Cold Snap

I've been in a deep haze over the past few days, and I'd like to thank Zoloft.
After taking it for a year and a half, I stopped taking it in September, when I felt that my life was going better and it had done it's job.  I was really fine; I wasn't crying at the drop of a hat, chewing my nails, or anxious about things I couldn't change.
But I realized this weekend that I am not equipped to handle my emotions, the ones that have swung me with hurricane force all through my overly-sensitive life.  I can't bring myself to care right now.
And thankfully, the drug is dulling me.  It shuts off my inner monologue.  I don't have the ability to entertain thoughts of him when I'm focused on another activity.  I can fall asleep without thinking of everything I might have done or should have said.  I wake up in the morning ready to go; no happy snoozing and barely getting to work on time. 
No tears.
No compulsion to eat, no hunger.  I went to the grocery store last night to restock my proteins, freezer, and pantry.  I have never felt more nothing.  I didn't care what went into my cart, didn't care to choose.  I stared at the shelves for a long while, with no stress over the people who were around me or rushing me.  I couldn't help thinking that I could stand there forever and still feel comfortable.  Eventually I put in stuff that was on sale, that I could prepare without too much thought.  I don't have the energy or interest to cook anymore.
It sounds bleak, but it feels good.  Like I've let go of a part of me I can't control, that I've sent it off to a school where it could learn to behave.  Meanwhile I'm at rest and productive, holding for a time when I can allow myself to care again.
So there's that,

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


I'm down 4.4 pounds this week.  Sadness becomes me.
So there's that,

Monday, January 26, 2009

Tell Me On A Sunday...Please.

Hey Sis,

Steven and I broke up last night. He thought we were reaching a turning point in our relationship where it was going to get really serious, and he decided he just couldn't see himself with me in the long term. He thought he would break it off now before I got too attached and wasted more of my time. I'm hurt, Manda, among the confusion and sadness, I'm hurt.

I know I have to accept it and move on. There's no use in loving someone who doesn't have a heart for me. I respect his feelings, but I'm having a hard time reconciling this with some of the things he's said to me, done for me, the things we said to each other. Even one week ago today we seemed unbreakable.

I'm not fooling myself - this wasn't a one-sided relationship with me carrying the weight. I know enough from that. We were balanced and loving. There were no games; this was too easy and comfortable to be true. We were passionate in a way that wasn't simply fueled by lust. I wanted to give myself to him, and I guess I'm happy I didn't. I thought I found someone who loved me for me. Is there anyway to retrieve my many calls of happiness from the rooftops?

I can't eat. I can't sleep without seeing his face next to mine, his head on my stomach, his conspirator's smile as our foreheads touch. Where do I put these feelings and memories so that I never have to see them again? How do I rebuild? How do I trust my feelings and my stories to someone again when I always end up abandoned?

I haven't been working on me. I need to do that again. I need to write again. I won't let this shelter me from the everyday things that make me happy. One thing - I cannot look for love right now. I feel too delicate to hold, and I fear that the next person will just be a repository for resentment and my continued bitterness. I'll probably be the same for him...lord knows I'm not good enough for the long term.

I deserve the best, and I thought I had it. If I can't bring myself to search again, I might as well redefine "best."

So there's that,


Don't run off in the pouring rain,
Don't call me as they call your plane,
Take the hurt out of all the pain.
Take me to a park that's covered with trees.
Tell me on a Sunday please.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Celebrated Too Much

I was pretty proud of myself.
I could barely button my pants when I was coming back to Chicago on the 30th, so I made an effort to lose a chunk of that excess weight before today's meeting.  I got back on track, excercised, and I came back to work yesterday wearing my skinny pants.  That's good, right?
I knew I probably wouldn't show weight loss this week consdering that this is also my woman week, so I counted on seeing a gain of at most 2 pounds, if I didn't at least stay weight stable.  And the outcome was right there in the range I set for myself:  I showed a gain of 1.5 pounds since December 16.
I think...that's pretty frickin' awesome!
But the lady who logged my weight really harshed my buzz.  In her sassy old black woman drawl, she said, "You celebrated too much."
I'm thinking:  I know that.  But I'm happy with this weigh-in; it could have been much worse.
She's lecturing:  "Yes you celebrated too much and you need to get your head in the game."
I'm thinking:  I do have my head in the...wait a minute - what did this bitch just say to me?
I'm saying:  "Oh I know!  I was much higher than this one week ago.  These are good numbers to me."
She's saying:  "Yeah, but you still celebrated too much.  You gotta work them numbers, not let them work you."
I'm thinking:  Uh, bitch?  Who the fuck do you think you are?  You're job isn't to say shit.  Your job is not to judge me.  Your job is to read the scale and write my weight down on my card.  Your job is to go fuck yourself.
I'm saying:  "This is a good number for me.  I'm quite happy with myself, THANK you."  I grabbed my purse and snapped my card out of her hand.
She finally looked up, caught the tartness of my tone, and happily said, "Well good job then!"
I walked away with my heart racing, and I could have cried.  And I wasn't overreacting.  I went in there pretty happy, so I couldn't have (in my imagination) assigned that shitty tone to her voice.  She just kept her head down and scolded me for poor behavior.
Again - not her job.  Never in my history of Weight Watchers have I experienced something like this.  That's because you're not supposed to make crappy comments to people about their weigh-ins.  The point of attending meetings is to hold ourselves accountable.  I'm doing my job by showing my face no matter if I gain or lose.  If I gain, I can beat myself up about it, then use my meeting time to get over myself, examine my mistakes and recharge.  If I lose, I use the meeting time to get new insights and reevaluate my goals.  I don't go to be coddled, but I don't go to be berated either.  If I wanted that, I'd exclusively weigh-in at the doctor's office.
I calmed down about it as the meeting progressed.  I wanted to take her aside after the meeting to let her know that she was out of line, but she was still weighing people in.  There's another meeting tonight, so I may go in after my workout to talk to our leader about it.  I really don't want this to ruin my experience at this meeting location.
This is the kind of thing that can keep people from coming to meetings. But not me.
On another note:
When I was sitting listening to our leader, I decided that's what I want to do.  I want to lose my weight for a variety of reasons, but now one of them is to become a lifetime member and down the road, an inspiring leader.  Who better than someone who's knocked herself down so often only to come back up fighting? 
To quote Liz Lemon:  I want to go to there.

So there's that,

Monday, January 5, 2009

Back to Life, Back to Reality

Surprisingly enough, I'm happy to be back to work after a long period of rest and relaxation. 
Seriously?  It was like the first day of school - I was so punched up that I couldn't fall asleep until 1:00 am.  I guess that could also be due to the fact that I decided to start watching the last six episodes of Veronical Mars Season Two at 8:00 pm.  In hindsight that was pretty stupid, but I had to get that monkey off my back...
Now I'm all excited to get moving on some work projects, and a happy bonus is that the structure of my work day allows me to eat better and keep to my workout schedule.
I haven't weighed in since 12/16, yet I'm confident that if I have gained, it hasn't been too much.  If the scale at my gym is anywhere close to the WW scale, I'd only be up about 2 lbs.  I can live with that...for now.
I'm going to WW tonight with my friend Megan, who is considering membership.  If she decides to join I'll probably permanently change my weigh-in day to Monday.  It's nice to have a buddy!
Thanks Michelle for the title!
So there's that,