Fear, Loathing and Mother's Little Helper

Whew - it seems as though I am stuck in a blizzard bender.

Not that I'm making the rounds to DQ mind you, I just seem to be eating everything in sight since all this snow hit and we have been homebound for the last three days. As soon as the kiddos are snug as bugs it's GAME ON with the snacks and the adult imbibing activities. I plead boredom with a hefty side order of depression, and a little bit of cabin fever sprinkled on top for extra flavor.

Personally, I think Ma Nature needs to spend three days inside with three very active Puckett Boys, maybe then she'd rethink that forecast, apparently there's more to come this week.

All this to say, I've had a lot of time to sit and contemplate my navel and why I can now make frowny faces with it.

Here's what I have thunk:

I hate my body the way it is RIGHT NOW.

I fear I will NEVER lose all this weight.

I LOATHE the fact that I knock things over with my ass on a daily basis.

I wish I had a better Mommy.

Here's what I think about what I thunk:

If I don't figure out how to love me no matter what the package, I won't be happy even if I do accomplish the weight loss.

I have done much harder things than lose weight.

Sometimes it is kinda funny to have an ass with a daredevil streak.

I feel like my life is one long bumper sticker platitude.

Harumph.

And that's where I am, still making the same progress...

In the a.m. - lovely bowl of Weight Control Oatmeal and cup of coffee with soy milk and then the rest of the day is just a downhill slope like the sag in my upper arms.

I try daily to renew my willpower, desire to keep on keepin' on and my patience - but today the PPD seems to be winning out. All I want to do is get back in bed.

I had been seeing a doc who specialized in Moms with PPD but after 8 months of her NEVER remembering who I was and a 20 pound weight gain due to all the meds she put me on, (TWENTY POUNDS!! Which I had already lost by the way), I decided it was time to find a new doc.

The new guy I found, I have seen twice. He wears bow ties with animals on them, brings his dog to work and has bowls of old fashioned hard candy EVERYWHERE. So far so good. His name is Dr. Dray (pronounced just like the rap star - another bonus as far as I am concerned). He is pulling me off all the meds the Dumbass Doc put me on and trying me on some new stuff. Namely a mood stabilizer as he seems to think I have bi-polar tendencies - and there it is - all plain, in black and white and out in the open like.

I have not officially been diagnosed with bi-polar depression, just with tendencies towards bipolar mood swings. And I don't get all Patty Duke either...I don't get to have the high highs - I have the 'type 2' tendencies, so I swing back and forth between depression and hard core irritability. Kinda like non-stop PMS. Yay.

The upside is, it may not last forever, once my hormones regulate, I'll go back to 'normal.' (heh) But there is a chance that I had these tendencies to begin with and all the hormonal shifts of birthing two babies brought it out. Since my Dad's stapler has been in the same spot on his desk since before I was born (he got it when he was serving in Vietnam ya'll) and he gets EXTREMELY irate if you move that little fucker, I'm thinking I may be doomed to the latter.

Now that I sit here and tap out my woes like a lapsed Catholic who's so confused they are confessing in a porta potty, it occurs to me that I may be getting my snack on with such vigor lately because I am embarrassed about being depressed with bipolar leanings.

My whole family thinks I'm 'too smart' to have these problems. I know the old arguments - "If I were diabetic would they tell me not to take my meds then too?" I just never figured Mother's Little Helper would be the theme song of my late 30's/beginning of my 40's.

I am STILL planning on being forty and fabulous next December - I know a LOT can happen in a year.

And I wasn't planning on divulging so much, but since Suzy got the ball rolling I thought I'd jump on the 'here's my current hurdle' bandwagon. Interestingly enough, I feel better.