Slimmingly yours...

Over the past 2 years, I have gained and lost the same 15 pounds. I had been religiously working out, eating right, spinning, and avoiding too much alcohol. Well, then I got into a relationship with an alcoholic who loved to drink and smoke and munch on bad food and not exercise. A year and a half later, I'm not the same woman!! In addition to gaining weight, I have no ambition to exercise. None. Blah. I used to spend two hours at the gym on Sat and Sunday mornings, and at least 1 or 2 days during the week. And I loved it!! I loved lifting and feeling powerful and strong. Now I love lounging and feeling bloated and supine. Sigh. How to get it back???? Where is my motivation? Is it because I've gone so far from that slimmer, more energetic woman, or is it just like they say, a body at rest tends to stay at rest? Plus, I'm older (not that much, but still, the metabolism changes) and it's that much harder to get a decent start going on weight loss....I know what to do, too. I know exactly how to change my body, even if it is a little harder now, I could do it if I really wanted. So what is it? Something to think about, for sure.

Ok, next day, thinking it over, having a dream about being stuck in between two slabs of wood, or some hard substance...my dad and my social life????

I'm at work, and when I'm at work, I'm an entirely different person, energetic, upbeat, smiling, comforting. I can be all those things at any time if I chose to, but at work is where I feel it's best directed. During the work day, I don't have time to snack until the afternoon. That's when it all just blows out. I see donuts on the break room table, I'll eat two instead of one or better yet, NONE. Pizza for lunch from the drug reps? I can scarf down three pieces without even fully tasting them. My relationships with my co-workers are friendly but pulled back, I've finally learned the advantage of NOT sharing my personal life with the people that have to look at me everyday. So a lot of holding back, a lot of denying myself pleasure. I don't even have sex with myself anymore. That makes me want to cry. Really, I can feel the tears of self pity welling up in my eyes, and I have a patient in the room so I have to pull it together.

Fertility indeed...

My daughter gave birth to a beautiful baby boy today. He is so sweet, and beautiful (did I already say that?) but she called me an hour ago and said they took him to the NICU because he has a fever and can't breathe. Now I can't sleep, I can't stop thinking about him and her and what could be. Please God, let our little sweetheart be ok. Please let him sail through this first hurdle, the first of many life will throw at his dear little soul. Please please please.

Winding down the way

Summer is at the halfway point. Not one trip to the beach yet, how I've changed. How I've grown. And how I've settled. Sinking into my couch or bed to read, write, play internet games, watch movies...I seem to have less and less motivation...is this just aging? Or is it depression? The prozac probably isn't even working anymore, it does seem I've plateaued. When I first started taking it, it was amazing how clear everything seemed!! How much better I felt, I started exercising, watching my diet, really feeling good about myself. What the heck happened? suddenly, or not so suddenly, over about 2 years time, I've turned into one of those 50 something wrecks!!! And I'm really torn. When I look in the mirror, ugh, I feel repulsed. But I have yet to do something about it!! Three of my four kids are living here, two of them have a child of their own living here too. I'm obsessed with my friend's health, worrying about her and her trials, but I'm neglecting my own. Really don't get it. But I'm going to Burning Man. I can't make the whole trip, but I know I'll get something out of anytime in that environment, so I am going. Fuck everything else, including (and this is bad) work. I have this crazy desire to just chuck it, cash in all my retirement savings and just do whatever the hell I want. I could, but this is not a smart or sensible decision, so I'm not making it. I'm just considering it. Like, selling the house, moving away from here and starting over. At my age???? That's just crazy. So I'm not doing it.

But damn I just want freedom. Freedom from my boss, my days, sucked up by other people's issues and problems, needing so much from the professional me. There must be a better way.

It's quarter after two...I haven't slept a wink...

Ok I did sleep earlier, but now I am wide awake. I've played 12 sets of Candy Crush damnit, hate that stupid time wasting game. I re-read my friend's blogs, looked up some old burning man pics, thought about reading, and then remembered I even started this blog. And kind of let it drop.

So I'm on vacation in two days, and the first thing I'm having done is my very first ever colonoscopy. I am so excited. It is really amazing how my perspective in life has changed. I used to think about boys, and clothes, shoes, makeup, boys, going out, going to the beach, boys, drinking, partying, boys.

Now I am focused on my health. I had a heart monitor on for two weeks, which I'm betting comes back with normal results, the fluttering in my heart that I had been feeling for months did not occur but ONE time while I was wearing that annoying damn thing. Whatever.  Meantime, I have a friend in the middle of a legitimate health scare. Rectal cancer.  Preceded by a double mastectomy last year. Jesus, why does it have to pour all down on one person? She's in the middle of treatment right now, and her husband is with her. He is her rock, and I am so proud of their commitment to fighting together. It is humbling and lifts me to see their love for each other. Hey it ain't perfect, but what is and that's not the point. The point is they are together, a team. United. And although I know Shannon is the one experiencing the pain and side effects (affects???) of this treatment, Mark is there, always there. Quiet and supportive. I love them. I hope someday I meet someone who I can count on to fight alongside me, whatever the battle is, even if it's just living every day in this crazy f***ed up world.

So I'm worried about Shannon, and hoping she is ok, knowing she will  (this is one competitive chick, no way is she letting cancer get the best of her!) fuck cancer hard where it counts.

In the meantime, I've started therapy. I had a pretty scary situation about 3 months ago, my oldest son was in the middle of a major depression and needed some intervention. Took all my strength and emotional resources to do what needed to be done, and it left me....pretty freaked. And sick of facing everything ALONE!!! Realizing I had some issues to resolve from waaaayyy back, I started seeing a therapist. It is going well!!! I have dug up some pretty nasty memories and faced them with her, she is supportive and very gentle, and has taught me some relaxation techniques that are helping me to stay calm and recognize these are memories, not happening anymore. I feel like this post is all over the place, but I haven't written anything in a while. Just getting it out feels good.