Wall Squats, I Hate Thee

So, my chiropractor is rocking my carpal tunnel right out of my body. Progress is slow, but undeniable. Now that I am past the "relief" phase of my treatment, we are working on strenghtening my core so that I can hold my adjustment. This means that a tiny, beautiful Iraqi woman makes me do hateful, hateful exercises in a hot back room, for 45 minutes every day.

Awesome.

She 'bout killed me today. But in a good way. In the best way, I guess. We did a circuit of maybe 30 different exercises, some of which involved exercise balls, some of which involved exercise bands, some of which involved tilting my pelvis while doing crunches while holding an 8 lb. medicine ball between my raised knees. Um, ow. I'm working muscles I didn't know I had.

We go full tilt with the personal training aspect in two weeks, and I am very much afraid, and very much looking forward to it. Numb hand. Big love, all.

Oh, and my diet has been straight shit lately. I GOTTA get that in check. Actually, today was really good, but it's the first really good day in a few weeks. Hellooooooo stress eating. Pass the white cheddar popcorn, thanks.

Another First

I've had what I think is the last indicator I need that the time to change my life is now.

I had my very first panic/anxiety attack yesterday. Yes, it was triggered with imbibing a bit of my favorite intoxicant, and then going on a vigorous walk in 82 degree weather, but I seriously thought I was having a stroke or something, and that compounded into four hours of straight trippin', boo. I've never had a problem with anxiety in my life, but I guess no one does, until they do.

It scared me, and I'm going to call Wake Med about getting into therapy tomorrow.

These last three weeks or so have been somewhat brutal, and have included two types of stress I have never had to deal with before; suicide attempt of a friend, and a work-related injury that has severly disrupted my life.

Side note: I always thought people with carpal tunnel were pansies, and were kinda being babies about the whole thing. What's the big deal with a little tingling? The big deal is that that is the most MINOR of all symptoms. I can sleep again, thank God above, and I feel much improved for all the chiropractic care, but this battle is just beginning.

Annnnnnnnnnnd cue the need for a dramatic life change...now.

My chiro is doing research on my personal nutritonal/supplemental needs, and I begin personal training there in three weeks. The trainer has promised me she is going to kick my ass and I am officially terrified, and hopeful.

Here's hoping that I can get in to see a therapist and start mending the mental injuries that I can't really ignore anymore. I don't want to live with anxiety. Come to find out, it really sucks.

All is not doom and gloom. I had a lovely brunch today at my house with an old friend I haven't seen in a few months, and the sun is shining. I love my friends and family, and I really, really like the house where I live. My job is interesting and challenging, and Raleigh is a dynamic city full of things to do. I have an awesome dog and an awesome car.

I want to feel as awesome as the rest of my life. Now is the time.

OOOHHHH AYYYYYY!

I went to an OA meeting a week ago. Been thinking about it for a while now, but just got the opportunity to try it out. I've been struggling lately with the urge to eat and eat and eat, diabetes be damned. I understand that I need real support to deal with my friend the coping mechanism of eating. Funny, but every time I try to face my food issues head on things fall apart.

I've been going through lots of transition lately, and facing old fears and failures. As a result, my eating has flared up...(hellooo coping). Of course I always try to tackle everything at once and then am mystified when I can't seem to drag myself out of bed. One step at a time, Mollye. One step at a time.
So, I am declaring right now, that I am aware of my coping mechanisms. I know that they will not go away overnight, and that I have been under new stress lately, so they are flaring. This is not the end of the world. My weight loss is not over, I will not relapse completely. I will breath in and out and start again fresh each day. I WILL use my coping as an indicator telling me that I need to pay better attention to my inner life, and take better care of myself. I am worth that.

Thanks fellow gut busters for letting me process! Much love

Oh, The Ides

So this carpal tunnel thing got real nasty, real quick. I've slept a grand total of about seven hours over the last five or six days, and I'm starting to feel a lil' unstable, if ya feel me. My eating has been decent to good; I think I've had three cookies in as many days. The sheer amount of edamame and celery and citrus and spinach I eat offsets that enough, I want to think. Sugar is sugar, though, and I felt better when I was off it.

I think the carpal tunnel might be a blessing in disguise. It is the final call that I need to alter my lifestyle permanently and for the better. I went to the chiro today, had my first adjustment and then some electropulse muscle stimulation thing and I feel good. Real good. Saw my spine x-rays; doc says I just need a tune-up, not a new engine--nothing shocking or horridly alarming. HOWever, it became apparent, real live in film, that the weight I carry pulls on me, literally drags me down. Undeniable, right there on the lightboard.

And the thing is, I've felt so crappy and worn out these last two weeks that I feel like I'll do anything to make it all feel better. I think this means, right now, treatment by a physician to facilitate better health, including weight loss, spinal realignment to allow me to exercise more with lessened pain, proper nutrition and a personal trainer, and I have finally found them, all under one roof, with an affordable staff of very kind, very knowledgable physicians and therapists...and they'll let me be on a payment plan for a $120 a month, on into the future. Um, done and done. I have to see them 4 times a week for a minute, but if that's what it takes to sleep again, and potentially stimulate my slumbering thyroid, so be it. 4 times a week it is.

It's been so long since I've had access to health care, I almost feel dizzy with joy and wonder that someone finally seems willing to help me at a price that I can actually pay.

Fingers are done.

xoxoxoxox big love.

What a Wicked Week

Oh man, it's been a doozy.

I have managed to shed another pound, which is a frickin miracle given what I've been eating. It's amazing how stress can burn calories if you're doing it hard enough. If only all the rest of the side effects of extreme stress were as welcome as weight loss...

In a nutshell: bi-polar, attention-starved (used-to-be-my-)friend got suicidal on Sunday night, and I got to deal with the ramifications on Monday. She is alive, which is a relief, but for every one of the five minutes I pounded on her door thinking the worst, I think I consumed five Oreos. With peanut butter on top. I wish I was kidding. Literally, most incredible taste sensation. Don't even try it. Some things it's best not to know. Then, my shoulder/neck crinked up even more, leading me to believe that it might be a pinched nerve as opposed to carpal tunnel--I can't decide which I want it to be. Neither excite me. My dog almost killed a feral cat when we were on a walk in the woods, and I had to get bloody scratched up to prevent the slaughter--once a dog kills one cat, you can guarantee they'll kill another, and since I'm CAT-sitting for five more months, that just won't do. He gets confused when furry things run from him in the woods; he wants to shake it, whatever it is.

I feel really put-upon currently, just by the universe at large, and while I don't mean that to sound all victim-y, I am starting to wonder about cosmic endurance tests.

The problem with all this is that I have realized that under extreme duress, I am still relying on my old crutches. I eat very small amounts of mostly junk, I drink alcohol (only two glasses of wine this week, so I feel all right there), I smoke a lot of cigarettes, and I exercise less. Bad, meh, terrible, and wrong.

I ate salad and fish for dinner tonight, so I feel like the stress fog is starting to break enough that I can remember that there are better coping mechanisms than cheddar herb kettle chips and that disgusting, amazing combo cookie combo I mentioned earlier. On a positive note where junk food is concerned, I don't eat it all in one sitting anymore. This is a new realization. Used to be, I'd buy a bag of chips--gone in one night, if not one sitting. A bag of cookies--24 hours or less. I couldn't stop myself. Now, there are five to seven servings. Almost like what they recommend on the bag. Don't forget to love ourselves for the small victories.

Fingers going numb. Big love!

The Doughnut Not Taken

I've had a breakthrough. In my therapy I have been doing breath work. Its a kind of hyperventilation that puts you into a relaxed state and allows you to access your unconscious. So hard to describe in words. I have been trying to access parts of myself for years to no success. So, I tried something different, a little scary, and totally outside my "control."

During my last session, I uncovered something that totally blew me away. I've always framed my understanding of the weight I carry in terms of protection. I get that aspect of it. During this session, I was dealing with the fact that I have been carb crazy lately, especially doughnuts. I just want to eat anything that is in sight. I've recently had to get rid of clothes because they hang off of me and get new clothes (thrift store here we come), and I've started subbing at local schools as a way to make money. The clothes I got are all cute, and a little too close for comfort. I feel exposed. I was comfortable with having clothes that were too big for me. Plus there has been this rising feeling that I was about to start gaining weight back. I was going to relapse. I almost wanted to relapse. And now I had thrown away my safety net.

I realized through my breath work that I have been starving myself. Starving myself of love. Some parts of me I deeply hate, and I want everyone else to hate. I have been trying to starve those parts of myself to death. As a result, I have been compensating by filling that starvation with something I have control of: food. I am still trying to unpack the full implications of that, but am hoping it will maybe relate to some of y'all out there.

All Quiet on the Eastern Blog

Thank goodness it's March. February is a hard month to maintain a happy face, and that makes me feel like eating bread and pasta and potatoes and cookies, so...a warm welcome to the (almost) Ides.

I have been having a crap two weeks, y'all. Dentist, stomach upsets, my very first flare up of carpal tunnel, doggy destruction, more cat puke than you can shake a damp sponge at, and dry face skin, to boot. Trying times like these lead me down unfortunate paths with my food choices, because food makes me feel good. I try real hard most of the year to remind myself that I can feel even better by exercising and eating right and trying to keep it real with myself and being engaged and involved in the world around me. But February...eff me if I can stick to it.

It's awesome, too, that I have had some no-good nausea for a handful of days now. I won't eat because I'm not hungry with nausea, and then I'll go for too long and get ravenous and eat too much of something I can eat quick, instead of preparing something healthy that takes 20 minutes. It's a cycle I need to break.

I'm totally off the no-sugar wagon. Just like a dam, a tiny chink led to a crack, which led to a gaping hole that let that sugar on in. I'm keeping myself in check, somewhat. I've been eating only dark chocolate, the higher that cacao content the better, and I have been making one candy bar last two or three days. I'm trying to feel okay about that. Sometimes, there are dark chocolate raisins involved (Bets, I totally get it now). I have always been an all or nothing girl. What I need to learn now is moderation. I'm tryin'.

Because I am not feeling great in my stomach, and have been getting sick more than I regularly do, I have been getting this little red flag in the back of my head. I am not, I repeat, AM NOT a bulimic, but I think I've mentioned before that I get nervous that I could slide into that pattern of behavior, b/c throwing up has become a somewhat regular enough part of my life that it doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm very cool and collected about the whole ordeal...and that concerns me. So here's what I'm noticing about myself that has the red flags up: I'm not paying as much attention to portion size b/c my unconscious says, I mean, whatevs, if it doesn't fit, it doesn't fit, and then there will be room for three more bites, anyway. I know how effed that sounds, lords knows I do, and I'm pretty sure that a therapist is on my list of things to get on for the next week or two, but I guess I'm hoping that by calling that shit out now before it becomes a habitual pattern of behavior, I can head it off at the pass.

Before I had lap-band, I remember reading accounts of people that had had one of the surgeries, and then got eating disorders. I remember thinking that there were so many testimonials, and that I couldn't even understand how they could let that happen. Starving or vomiting--how gross, right? But now I see how even a subtle shift in normal routine can sink in until it becomes normal, too, when it's not normal, not normal, at all, and deserves some analysis and attention. I.e. I can't eat two servings of anything and expect it not to come up; therefore, I can't eat two servings. It seems real simple, not like something I would forget, but sometimes I do, because, man, food tastes good.