Time flies…

Logged in this morning to post for the first time in ages, and I get the notification that I signed up 2 years ago today.As a whole, things are greatly improved.

I have steadied my weight at 87 kg (about 190 lbs) Not where I want to be, so it is time to really work on it. I gotta work on finding the motivation for that. I feel so much better about myself than before that I have let things slip. My weight hasn’t, but my routine has. The worst part is looking sexy. It doesn’t happen especially with as of yesterday, 9 scars total on my abdomen.

I am in no romantic relationship. Once again I tell myself that I am better off without it because I only torture any one that gets that close to me before I pull out and shut down. According to “Demotivaters” -The only constant in your failed relationships is you. So trying again to keep myself from confusing shit with romance again. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have a sex drive, but cyber/phone sex is enough for me at the moment. Wait, is this TMI? 😉

The social anxiety I get over, until it overwhelms me. I am dealing with huge waves of overwhelm right now. My absolute favorite living author (Sorry Neil, but Ms Austin edges you out slightly) will be in the capital next Sunday. After figuring out if I can AFFORD to go, I have to figure out if I CAN go. The crowds! I can handle getting myself on a plane to see him, but the queue waiting…PANIC-CITY. Even before that is the national celebration here when all the town gathers up into the gyms of  the local grade school. When I say all the town, I mean it, from the babies still in arms to the bus delivery of nursing home residences. This is a social gathering where everyone meets and talks and shares the news of the past year. Aside from still being a stranger after all this time, the stress of so many people attacking my personal bubble is crippling. After having been told that there are some people that think I don’t take my children to such events simply because I am too lazy or refuse to face my responsibilities, asking for help has become even more difficult. One top of these two events is an even bigger, but somehow less stressful event of a 5 day vacation with the family to LEGOland. So, LOTS of people, even different language, ex-husband, extended for days.

My best friend has been a tower of support even while he is dealing with his own issues. I would almost kill to go back just to hang out and relax face to face with him. He asks me to scale my days o a scale of one to ten. Last night I had and 8. Right now it is a 6.5 to 7. While in Ireland, it was a constant 1, except when being PLAGUED by my then boyfriend. He managed to make some moments tens. But my buddy, my pal, my non-romantic soul mate pulled me from those without even knowing that they were there, even when taking me to a cemetery 🙂

I just needed to unload. Thanks for reading, or not. It doesn’t matter.

Post-holidays Post

Like many others, I enjoyed the holidays. I went to the US, and ate almost all of my favorite foods, including the dangerous Mint M&Ms. I can say I still got my workouts from my almost daily shopping trips, but I think that is just a copout. I took those three weeks off. Then I returned home to be drained for a  WEEK mostly due to jetlag. And then I was slammed by cold and flu season. I managed to get both! So, I had been off from training for almost 6 weeks.

One of the hardest things I have done was to get started again. My brain told me that I HAD to do so. Bad habits are easy to form. Good habits take a bit more work. So, starting this Monday, I started again. I am not up to my hour again yet, but working on it. Yesterday I did get to 50 minutes. In the evening we took the kids to the pool, and a managed to do two laps before my body told me “Try another one. Let’s see if your butt sinks like lead.”  that kind of threat, I just went back to the nice warm kiddie pool.

This morning waking up, my body was still tired from yesterdays workout. I tried to find an excuse to skip. I even googled to see if it was bad to exercise when tired, but Livestrong told me to fuck off and do it. Besides that, I need to go out today, and my newest motivational habit is to put on the training clothes first thing in the morning. Hell if I want to go out in public in a sports bra and compression pants! So, I got on for ONE epidose of the Doctor, and it still kicked my butt. Those endorphins  let me down today. But I did it. Phew! I have to do it every day now, until I feel that I don’t need to do it every day. Good habits take work…

As far as my mental issues go. they still go. I was sent back to the psychiatrist whose job is to try to figure out if the medications are what is right for the patient. So, no. I need an emotional stabilizer, code name: Prozac. I am afraid of Prozac. I had been on it before. I didn’t like what it did. It stabilized my emotions alright. I didn’t give a shit all the way around. I am being watched carefully to see if that happens. If it does, they are at a loss as to what to do for me. It hasn’t been the 14 days yet for medicine to really do it’s job, but I haven’t caught myself crying near as much. I haven’t been confronted with anything that was stressful though. I am able to feel happiness still. I am hopeful. It would be nice to be able to work, part-time. I have been written off as capable of full-time. There is just too much stress in that for me. I still have the downswings of the bi-polar cycle, and those scare me, especially with what might happen on the Prozac with them. Time will tell.

So, yeah. I’ve been away for a long time. I came back for the same reason I started this; to have a place to release what I am feeling without bogging my friends down with my issues. It doesn’t seem like anything has changed, but maybe, just maybe it has. And tomorrow, I will get my butt up, put on my training clothes, and do some more Doctor Who:)

Here I Go Again

No, I am not bitching (I don’t think, I never know where my train of thought leads me in these posts.) That is just a quote from a song that randomly popped in my head. So did The Bitch is Back, but…you know ;). Anywho.

I have been not as good with the exercising lately. It is a general lack of, hmm, what is the word. I would rather do something else as much as possible. That something is else that I had returned to the game World of Warcraft and reacquainted myself with some old friends, and have made some new ones. In that vein, I would rather spend time being social with people even if they aren’t in my backyard. To those who say that they are not “real” friends, fuck off. After all these years, I think I can judge bullshit from reality. Why do I look for social interaction online? Because it gives me the chance to be myself, good and not so good with other people who can understand some similar interests. I have four people that I am physically social with and one of them is my ex-husband. I don’t know anyone else, and with it being a small town, and me not working or going to school here, there aren’t many opportunities to meet new people. I do my best to go out with one friend at least once a month, go to the mall, and he more or less “holds court.” It seems he knows everyone, and they all like him. My being socially awkward, I sit there, listening, smiling, but rarely interacting unless directly addressed. It is still good for me to get out and be among people. I only freak out a little bit.

Child Protective Services have dropped our case. They seem to realize that I am handling my sickness without it having a major impact on the kids. It still feels like that they point a finger at me for my son having ADHD, and I will always blame myself, but they need to just pull their fingers back or I will bite them. They also realize that when needed I will ask for help. It is just rarely ever needed. So that is one less group of people that stress me out.

I have a funeral to go to tomorrow. My ex-husband’s mother died last week. It hit me harder than I thought it would. She died of Parkinson’s Disease. It had been taking her away from 15 years, and I never knew her before she was living part time in the care home. But, I watched her be trapped in her body until at the end she couldn’t do a single thing for herself, including speaking. She was the first person to express joy that I was pregnant with my son, even though she knew it wasn’t her son’s blood child. She was a joy. She loved Elvis and when she was healthy she used to dance around the house to it. Even though she was gone before her body quit, it still hurts to say the final goodbye. What eats at me the most is that my ex-husband asked me if I wanted to visit her just two days before she died. I declined. I gave up the last chance to see her living because I thought it was a waste of time seeing that she didn’t know who I was anymore. Yes, I know that I pile guilt on too much.

I am still losing weight. The operation is doing most of the work at the moment. I know that it is going to stop, but they say it takes 1.5 -2 years to level out, and I had the surgery only almost 9 months ago. Because of the exercising I have done, and still do just not as obsessively, I have muscle definition. I have found the right style clothes to wear, and except for the hair falling out, have lost what I feel is about ten years off my physical appearance. Maybe I look more my age now, but it is still an improvement. My boobs are still bothering me. They keep getting smaller, and one noticeably more than the other. Yay, more awkwardness because I keep thinking that others notice. I know that they don’t or if they did, don’t care. But again, it is my body and it is the one thing that I know best.

That is all that I can think of at the moment. See you next time the urge to let off steam occurs.

The Deepest Blues are Black

It isn’t completely a mental thing, although there is always that battle, and the STUPID BEST FRIEND who purposely tries to make me cry.  Yeah. I know you are reading this, so screw you 😉 Anyway, back on point. I had yet another in the endless meetings about how I can be a better parent because my illness is making my kids suffer (Read that with HEAVY sarcasm) I am so sick of the judging me. Yes. I have Bi-polar disorder. But yes. my children understand that they are not the cause of my moods. and that they are the brightest spots of pure joy in my life. My son tells me that he would give up a limb for me, so there is no doubt that he returns my love.  I want him to have someone whom he can talk with that isn’t his father or I so that he is able to express anything he wants without worrying about how it makes us feel. So I feel bummed that I can’t help him more than I do, but I just CAN’T. There is nothing more that I can do as a loving, caring, attentive mother.

The thing that is bothering me the most however is bruising. About a month ago, I noticed that I would randomly get awful looking bruises without knowing how I possibly got them. They didn’t hurt, they just were as the title might suggest. black and blue. This week I can count 4 mystery bruises, and they all hurt. The one on the inside of my knee hurts especially much. I checked online, and aside from again. blood thinning is one of the culprits. What causes it the blood to go thinner? Caffeine, acetaminophen,  aspirin all ingredients to the only tablets that actually work on relieving my headaches. Another suspect for thinning my blood is cod-liver oil. I am supposed to take this daily to make adjustments for my nutritional absorption. So it feels like to get better I have to get worse. I go to the doctor on Thursday for a checkup and I will bring it up then.

This leads me to another thing. I stopped paying 100% attention to everything I ate. I wasn’t eating bad, but I think I was shorting myself of some of the needed stuff. So, back to watching my fork constantly. More of my dietary bars, less snacks of a less than healthy nature, more of the protein water. I am 42. My body doesn’t need any extra help to start declining in health. I get tired. I get so very tired of the everyday needs of my new improved body. But I remind myself that I HAVE to take care of these needs or suffer the consequences. which right now look like someone took a rubber hose to me…

It’s been a while

I haven’t posted in a while. My life has been so much the same that there was nothing to talk about. Yes, I am still losing weight. Yes, I am still exercising.

But, today I got the letter of my interview with social services. I will have the evaluation of my state support. I will have to prove that I am not able to handle the amount of stress that having a job would bring into my life. I have gotten a lot better from two years ago when that spider turned my world into a complete mess. I have gotten it together a lot better. I can be in crowds, although not alone. I can talk to a stranger, and even go so far as to initiate the interaction. I was able to get on a plane and visit Ireland for a whirlwind week of driving and madness. I can most of the time hold hour long conversations without crying.  So how am I supposed to show them that even the thought of having to put myself back into the extremely stressful routine of motherhood and work will just break me again?

My friend told me it would be easy enough. I can’t talk about it without tearing up. Hell, I am doing it now. But is that enough to justify being supported by the state? That I cry? If so they should take away my TV license, my Internet and my Kindle. I am a crier. Is the shaking of my hands and the nervous leg and fidgets enough to prove that I can be a good mother or a good worker, but I just don’t have the strength to do both?

How can I show that I need the help that I am getting to keep my life together?

The thought makes me cry. Big surprise.

Home again, home again, Jiggity, Jig:)

I had an AMAZING time on my vacation to Ireland. It was more than I hoped it would be. And I got a good amount of exercise in. Until my tracking bracelet went dead and wouldn’t come back to life (I have to check on that, I keep forgetting) I was averaging 14km/day. That is with getting nasty popped blisters on the first day.

However since getting home I had been lazy. Today, almost a whole week later, I exercised for the first time. I can use the excuse that I didn’t want to sweat too much because of my new tattoo, but truthfully, I was just relaxing. I am back in swing though. I got my three episodes of classic Doctor Who watched today while on the elliptical, and I bought new compression pants while I was in town. Full length so I can go out even though it is beginning to get chilly.

I look in the mirror, and I am starting to see what my mind USED to see, no matter how fat I got. I see some upper abdominal muscle definition, I see an inward curve from the breast to the waist, instead of an outward. I am of course not pleased with my butt, because it was flat to begin with, and now it is fat and flabby from the extra skin that droops down.

Okay, I have paused this post three times now. I am going to send it as it is.

Rushing into the Wall

I have heard people talking about the rush they get from running. Well, I have heard it in the movies 😉 For the first time in my LIFE, I got that rush. The sudden glad energy that just lifts your head and spirit. It was good.

Now, I am face first into the wall. Even my arms feel too tired to lift up, much less my head and spirit. I am aching in my abdominal muscles because I gave them an extra five minutes attention after the elliptical of flexing and releasing them. Well, on the good side I actually saw the upper abdominal muscles, not just the shift in position of the stomach.

I didn’t exercise this past week. The trip to the hospital was really a blow to my self esteem. I have lost approximately 107 pounds (48kg) and I get told I am doing it all wrong. I do too much exercise for my food consumption and not enough calories even without exercise. Here I was working on healthy habits… So, I just sat down. I knew that I would get back up, but it depressed me. I did my weekly weigh in after today’s workout, and with sitting on my ass, I lost 4.8 pounds. 2.2 kg down without working at it. Last week when I did exercise, I maintained my weight. I didn’t lose muscle in the week due to inactivity. This adds to my depression.

Looking on the bright side, I am leaving for my vacation on Tuesday. I am excited about it! I am anxious about the planes, but not the airports. I have got the job of keeping a safe buffer space down to a science. I know where to find a corner to put myself into to protect myself.

Right at this moment I am pretty upset about a lot of things. Trying to keep my eye on the positive is easier with my vacation in 2 DAYS!!!! 🙂 But I wonder how I would be dealing without the break.

Don’t Pay Attention to the Man Behind the Curtain

Today, I decided to unveil myself. Well, actually decided last night, but I was in bed at the time, and just having taken my night-time meds, it didn’t seem so smart to try to keep my thoughts gathered, somewhat, while being chemically lulled into sleep.

This is me before I even realized what I looked like on the outside. I mean, I knew I was fat, but my mind kept thinking of myself as no SO fat. Pictures like this really showed me that something needed to be done. I didn’t have any health issues aside from sore knees from carrying their daily load, and sometimes a child or two;) But look at that. That is diabetes, heart disease and other serious health issues just begging to happen.

This is me at the end of January, where I have been exercising almost daily for over 6 months. You can see a big improvement in the number of chins.

This is me about last month.  That means it was about 5 months after the operation, The exercise is still almost daily. My hair is too bad today to take a picture. Going to get it cut later this afternoon. As you can see, the surgery and the lifestyle change has been working for me.

I am still not at the weight that I want to be. I am still wearing women’s 2xl tops (44) and larger cut jeans, about a 37″ waist (42). I am starting to find more clothing options, but I still need to look at the shops that carry a Big Girl range. I know I still have a lot of work ahead of me. The first 6 months are easy. The surgery is doing the regulating. Now it is my turn. I am up to the task, but the lack of proof that it is working will be hard for me to take. As I said, I have been encouraged to eat more, and in my mind, that is a bad thing. Until I lose these last 30 pounds, I feel I have to keep it low. I will amp it up to sustaining caloric intake when that happens, but I am not going to stop exercising. If I do that, I will easily slip back onto that beach, though this time my daughter won’t be on my lap, because I will have none.

Mental Issues

I had an appointment for my son’s ADHD. He will begin medication for it Saturday. This scares me. I want what is best for him, but I am scared that the meds will turn him into a zombie. I have had that happen to me. It wasn’t cool. Damn, I have already started crying just writing these few sentences. And then to the final meeting with his current caseworker, because she feels there is nothing more she can do for him. She has referred him to another team that deals more with his type of issues. But, she made me breakdown in the meeting. Not a complete spider type breakdown. but I had to close my eyes, and try to not scream. She wants him tested for Autism and Aspberger’s. He don’t need any more fucking labels!. He doesn’t need any additional challenges.

I am just tried of people looking at my mothering skills and JUDGING me. They say that they are not, but that is bullshit. When they “kindly” point out what I am doing wrong, and making suggestions to fix it, I get mad. These people are so far into our business I swear they know what my shit smells like. I am being judged as handicapped because I had a nervous breakdown at the same time that they decided to start evaluating. They act as if nothing has changed from the days that I couldn’t control my shaking, and my stuttering, and my general lack of togetherness. Now it only gets bad when I am stressed. Of course all these meetings stress me, but only to the hand-wringing and easy tears stage, which I am doing now just thinking about how much this stresses me. My daily life with my children is uneffected by it. As long as I keep a minimum of outside stresses off me, I feel I do a fantastic job with overcoming the extra hurdles my family has to tackle. My son tells me many times a day that I am his favorite person in the world, and that he would even give up body parts if it could keep me with him. If I were such a bad mom, that wouldn’t be happening. BUT these PEOPLE!!!! ARGH!

So of course, of own mental state is a bit of a mess. Keep distracted. Do your exercising. Plan your vacations (Less than a week before I go to Ireland to tear it up with my best friend! WOOT!) I wish I could get my tearducts removed. I would seem more “acceptable” if tears didn’t run down my face every time something upset me. Then people might think that I am sane, They might believe that I am a FUCKING CAPABLE mother who does everything in my power to be better and make it the best possible world for my kids.  Why can’t people understand that just because I cry?

So, this is me. The good, the bad, the ugly. Time for me to get some crunches in before I start my day.

6 months down. The rest of my life to go.

I had my 6 month control from the surgery Thursday. I was told to increase my calories. Stop eating low-fat yogurt, drink whole milk, eat more nuts. She even recommended cutting out the meal replacement bars, but I depend on them for nutrients, so even though they are low-cal, I need them. I have been told because of my very reduced calorie consumption, I am starving my body. I am not pleased with this information. She tells me I am being unreasonable in my goal to have a “normal” weight.  She said that after being fat for so long, my body will not see 165 its set weight point http://www.livestrong.com/article/326795-how-to-change-your-body-weight-set-point/.  I am doing the things recommended on this page. Truth is, I don’t know what my body’s set weight point is. I was ever increasing. So, it is possible that my it is around 175. I could be happy with 175. Everyone always feels that they are carrying around 10 lbs too many anyway, even supermodels.

I was so not pleased that I went on a “fuck-it” weekend. Pizza, chips, cake, Paad Thai, and homemade honey butter. Mind you, this wasn’t all in one day. It took 3 days to consume so much junk;) I don’t have the bad sugar reactions as some people, so as long as I moderate the sugar, I can eat whatever I want. I also skipping on exercising. And with my Sunday weigh-in, I have do gain. No loss either, but with that kind of indulgence after all my hard work, and seeing no side effect, I am bummed.

Today is my short day of alone time. My son comes home early from school. so that means my window of exercise is a short 2.5 hours, and I use one of them for the actual exercising, and another 30 for shower.

I am also told to go back on the iron supplements. I quit them for a reason. I have my two babies. I don’t want every trip to the bathroom to remind me of the birthing days.

I have lost 100 lbs. Exactly. 197 ponds. Just under 35 more to my long-term goal. The hardest weight as everyone says.

Well, I had better stop wasting my workout time. I could always go with the crunches. I can’t do more than 30 minutes with them:)

Captain Crunch

So, I bought a yoga mat, again, seeing as to how I gave the first one away… Anyway. I bought a yoga mat with the intention of doing some floor, abdominal exercises. HOLY CARP! I have absolutely no muscles there. Trying to do crunches, I am lucky to get my calves off the floor. Then there is even more advanced crunches, and let’s not even start about sit-ups! So, it would be so easy to just say “screw this” and work out on the elliptical until I am raining sweat. But, I don’t want to be unbalanced looking, Toned legs (well, somewhat) and a floppy flabby belly. So, I gotta try to get those crunches in.  14×30…Heck I am lucky to get 8×1 😉

I FINALLY hit under 200 lbs. I have lost, wait for it, a grand total of, keep waiting, for the month of August…FIVE pounds. Was it worth all the build up? No, I didn’t think so either. Just as I didn’t think that it is worth all the work I have put into it. Yeah, yeah, Plateau. I see, to be having more plateaus than hills. Again, I know I have to keep at it. A plateau is better than an upwards climb. Just five pounds in a month that I really have been trying hard with is very discouraging.

My exercise tracking bracelet is a motivator, but as I said before, possibly over motivator. Looking at the summary when logging food shows me that I haven’t been active enough, walked enough, burnt enough calories. It also shows me that I am not eating as I am supposed to. I am doing my best to avoid the sweets, at least on a regular basis. But each day, even though it is telling me that I haven’t burnt enough calories, it is also telling me that I haven’t consumed enough. Mixed messages anyone?

The lack of weight movement isn’t very helpful with my mental health. I am beating myself up over it. I mean, I should be celebrating, I have officially lost 100 pounds, instead of approximately. People around me are telling me that I don’t need to lose anymore weight, because of my bone structure, but I know that I can, because I was skinnier before. At one point I wore a size 12 jeans. I am not hoping for that, but a 14 would make me happy. A woman’s extra large blouse instead of a man’s 3xl (I am down to man’s XL)

I got a dress that I think looks great on me for my upcoming trip. But when I see it hanging on the hanger, all is see is yards of fabric.This constant back and forth in my head is making me dizzy.

The social services here are still concerned about how my bipolar disorder effects the children. I don’t go off on them when I have a bad day. I don’t ignore them. I am a good mother, DAMNIT! They do their best to make me feel as though I am not. I know that that isn’t true, but it certainly feels like it when they look at my life with a magnifying glass. I hate it. It makes me mad. It makes me sad. And it makes me turn into the blubbering mess that got me in this situation in the first place. I can’t keep from crying, but that doesn’t mean that my kids feel that it is their fault. I have explained that sometimes I am just sad for no real reason, and they seem to understand. My son tries to comfort me, and fucking social services see that as a bad thing. As though I am relying on him to be my caretaker. He makes me a fucking cup of coffee for god’s sake. Yeah, I have a hard time controlling my emotions when I think about this. This makes all the interviews harder to show that my kids are okay and safe. All they want to know about is my “Support Network.” I don’t need a network. Because I am not in a relationship anymore, they see that as bad. IS there anything about my life that is good in their eyes? For fucks sake I am trying.  I am willing to let them help my kids with their social/learning issues, but leave mine the fuck out of it!

Okay, what started out as a somewhat positive post ended up in a rant. That is my life. That is what I deal with.