I am not in good shape this week. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. But that’s hardly a surprise since we’re moving across state lines on a budget and with more stuff than we can probably fit in the biggest U-haul and all the complications that moves inherently come with have certainly come with this one. I’m going to bullet point things that come to mind that I feel like sharing in absolutely no cohesive order or for any other reason than that I really love bullet points visually.
- It has come to my attention that my PMSing is becoming so bad now that I get nearly suicidal every month when it comes. I will admit that thoughts of death or the desire to go to sleep for years on end or forever have been uncomfortably frequent in the last two years but never so acute as it is two days before my period. I never PMSed at all until after I had Max. It’s been getting steadily worse over the last 11 years. But it’s ridiculous now.
- This move is requiring so much help from others and I’ll bet most people don’t actually know how hard it is for me to ask for help in the first place because I have learned over the years that it’s important to ask for help and to give it because reciprocity is at the heart of a strong community and so I force myself to reach out. This week I reached out because I have no other option. My sister and our friend Bobby are going to get quilts from me because I’m THAT grateful for their willingness to help us in such a big way.
- I love making quilts. I intend to work on not only those two quilts but the two I’m already working on. I intend to make/finish 4 quilts in the next year or so. My friend Chelsea quilts so maybe we’ll inspire each other.
- I have this horrible dialog/anxiety running through my head night and day as this move approaches – I am moving back to a lot of family and friends who knew me back when I was either a regular sized person or a chubby person but NOT an obese person. I am so ashamed of my body right now and I simultaneously want to be around my old friends but also not let them see me. This past month I have gained back every ounce I managed to lose previously and though I refuse to step on a scale I know I am back to my all time heaviest weight and maybe have made a new record. I’m less ashamed around my Oregon friends because even though many of them have seen me go from fat to obese – none of them have ever seen me as a regular sized person. I am aware that this is a stupid thing to be anxious about and I’m also aware that those of my friends who really like me and care about me are not going to be harsh judges of my weight just as I would never be harsh judges of them in the same situation. But I can’t stop this awful shame from living in my head every hour of the day. Meanwhile I’m so desperately stressed that I’m doing everything possible to make it WORSE. What’s actually going through my head is something like an apology I’m silently making to my friends and family every waking hour “I’m so sorry I’m obese. I’m so sorry I am so disgusting! I promise I will take better care of myself after the move. I am so sorry to be such a gross disappointment! I’m not fat inside! It’s not completely my fault! Only half of this weight is from my own bad choices – the medications did the rest! I promise I won’t always be this hideous looking!”
- It’s actually excessively noisy in my head all the time – that isn’t the only dialog playing on repeat. Why the hell don’t minds have shut-off buttons? Beer and television do an adequate job but then they cause other problems. My sleep isn’t free of noise either. I’ve been having awful nightmares. One ended with someone having their nipples cut off and this person dragged himself to a house I was wanting to rent leaving a trail of blood. You just don’t feel rested after disturbing dreams.
- I can’t wait to get myself set up with a new doctor who can send me to a psychiatrist and also a therapist. I’ve been in desperate need of therapy for the past six years but couldn’t afford it because it wasn’t covered and then we had no coverage.
- I can’t wait to join the YMCA! I can’t wait to lose enough weight to not feel ashamed of publicly exercising. But if you are starting off as large as I am there is no better gym than the Y to work out. It is filled with all shapes and sizes and ages of people. No one cares or judges. Or, if they do, I never feel it there.
- This week I had a dent on my leg that convinced me it was a sign of a fatal illness. Those of you on facebook already know all about it. It was ridiculous. I had to make fun of myself but this kind of thing happens ALL THE TIME. (Not the leg dent, the part where I obsess over some minor physical mystery and become convinced of my own doom) It took the dent more than 16 hours to disappear. So I’ve concluded that I have spectacularly unresilient flesh. Probably just a function of my age.
- As soon as Philip leaves the most muscular, fast, and hairy spiders move in.
- There was a word (or a phrase) camping out in my head all week that I was going to mention because it was driving me nuts but now it’s gone and I can’t believe I’m so annoyed that I can’t remember what it was!
- I just remembered the word that was trolling my head for the past few weeks: Verklempt. But in reality what my head was saying was: Ferklempt. Over and over and over.
- At least this bastardized line of Shakespeare “Life is not life when it alters with alteration” has finally stopped going through my head on an endless loop. that went through my head several times a day almost every day for a year and a half.
- Max has discovered one of the many uses of bubble wrap and tape guns: bubble wrap armor to protect yourself in an airsoft war.
That’s it for now because I have to do a little work and then do a lot more packing. There’s no one left to help me. It’s just me and Max here with the animals. My mom is in California with Philip and I feel jealous. Even though I’m going to be there in 6 days with them. I’m way overwhelmed.