Two down...

Thanksgiving and Christmas passed without fanfare. It's just three of us now and this year we seem to be okay with that. No need to pad the seats at the table with cousins and friends to distract us from the missing Patriarch. This year, we were calm, pleased by each other's company and even experienced upbeat moments. Now to just get through and into the New Year without incident.

I don't have anything in particular to discuss this Sunday eve. Apparently this is the day that I like to check in with myself because I'm never overjoyed about beginning my week. Sunday's feel overburdened and heavy to me. I never know whether I should rest all day in preparation for five days with no break or pack them full of things that I didn't do on Saturday. I find that they no longer scare me, but they still don't feel good. They feel fast and unsettling, but not frightening.

I just watched interviews with Hill Harper and Brian McKnight. My suspicious and toxic mind won't let me believe that either celeb revealed his true self. I think that it's just another thing produced to keep up the facade they want to create for their public, adoring or otherwise. I suppose the only reason I felt a need to comment is because I was very aware of feeling smug and even a bit bitter while watching each interview. I'm having an adolescent response to celebrity that I can neither explain nor control. The thought of them fills me with disgust and overwhelm. Why can't we and they be happy with what they offer? Why do we feel the need to know about them and their lives and why do they feel the need to share? It's bizarre and invasive on both sides.

This week, this week, this week. I see Dr. G. tomorrow about my meds, talk with GB about my performance over the last year, and participate in the team lunch. One thing a day for everyday I have to show up. It feels overwhelming (the word of the hour), but I'm going to just take it one day and one thing at a time and get through with each to the best of my ability. I never feel like being on. When does this shift? Does it shift? Is this me forever more?

I guess I'm a bit more tripped out than I realized. I thought I was feeling calm this Sun Day and that I would just ramble a bit about my back and the pain of the weekend and feeling confused and, yes, overwhelmed by little things, but apparently there's more bubbling up than I guessed. I actually feel like I could do this for a while longer, but I sense that would be indulgent. I'm also aware that the reason I don't want to stop is because I feel scared. I want life more than anything, but I feel trapped in a very dark place. I don't know how to get out.

No matter. Perhaps this will be the week of my decision and that will bring me some measure of joy. I suppose the key to freedom is focusing on that which brings joy.

I feel afraid. I know why.

I've been eating with abandon and I can't seem to get it together. I feel irritable and bloated and still I won't stop. What is it about this food thing? Why does it have such a hold over me that I will forsake all else to consume and consume and consume?

I don't want to fail anymore. I don't want to overeat anymore. I don't want to eat badly anymore. I don't want to have to guess at what in my closet fits anymore. I don't want to feel heartburn anymore. I don't want to feel the bloat in my fingers and breasts anymore. I don't want to be confused about what to eat anymore. I don't want to feel helpless and hopeless anymore.

I want a different life. I want to be and conduct myself differently.

Why isn't this enough? Why isn't being miserable enough to commit to change and better behavior?

Fuck, I just want to take a walk. Even if there weren't 8" of snow and below freezing temperatures outside, I couldn't take a fucking walk!!! I am SO frustrated by that. It hurts to take the time needed to re-heat food! I need a solution to the pain.

I feel lost and unhappy and hopeless and yes, afraid.

I Grant Myself Permission to Experience: LIFE

I want more life in my life. I've been looking for this in the form of pets and purchases to no avail. I think about wanting something or to do something, but I don't know what it is or how to even figure it out. I'm struggling to write this post because I feel like I have to find just the right words and articulate just the right thoughts for it to have validity and value. I feel a bit nuts!

I was talking last night with AL and SJ about my concern that I won't feel "legitimate" if I'm successful in losing weight with the lap band. My thoughts about that subject are a topic for another post, but what came out of the discussion was that I don't give myself a chance to live and enjoy life because of my weight. I am waiting and hoping for success with the band because I believe it's the key to me finally being able to give myself permission to experience the freedom, joy, hope and health that I've been desiring all these years.

I'm on the couch and have been since Friday. I want to read, but I want to read things that I want to read rather than things I have decided or been told that I should read. It's almost hard to accept that I'm so punitive that I can't even allow myself to read what I want to read. How nuts is that? I acknowledge that my back is a challenge right now and, physically, I can only do so much. Can't I come up with some other things that I could do that would help me feel more productive without exacerbating my pain?

I feel like I'm in a bottle and that I'm missing my life. I was just watching documentaries about women weight lifters and tattoo enthusiasts and, while I don't find either practice appealing, I couldn't help but admire the people profiled because they identified something they were passionate about and pursued it passionately without regard to public opinion or what is perceived as "normal" by society. I can imagine that must be very freeing.

It is my life. I want to break the chains that have kept me from living it.

I'm at the End of My Seat Belt

I was monitoring my odometer because I wanted to remind myself to ask the guys at the oil change place if they could fix my seat belt. It seemed to be hanging and would lock up even before I could get the metal piece into the clip. Very uncomfortable indeed.

The other night, my sister drove me to an appointment in my car because my hip and legs had simply had it. I sat in the passenger seat and guess what. The same issue with the seat belt. What are the odds that both seat belts would be hanging and locking up before I could get the metal piece into the clip?

None.

So, what that means is that I'm as large as I can be and still wear a seat belt in my car. That is simply fucked and one of the many things that I never thought about. I would just grab the seat belt, pull it around me and go. Another thing that's happening that I never thought about is the flexibility one needs to wipe one's behind. I am really struggling in that area. I've taken to standing up to make sure I get everything. I was reading a book and this woman suggested using a wooden spoon, but I can't get a visual on that and don't quite know how it would work.

I've been having random conversations around the question of "what happened to me?" with people I think know me because I have a memory (perhaps it's false) of being different. The seat belt and toilet are two rather minor items that make me believe that my life has taken a shift in a direction that I don't want to head. The me that I remember isn't the me that I want to be, but she could at least secure herself in her car and tend to her own ass, two tasks I truly took for granted.

I feel exhausted by and obsessed with my desire to change my life. I don't know if I'm going about this the right way or how I'll know my life has changed if I continue to think about it rather than live it. Among the conversations I had on the topic of "what happened to me?" reinforced my inability to process things at anything other than an intellectual level. What am I missing out on by not being able to understand experiences, relationships--life--at an emotional or a spiritual level?

I've been listening quite a lot lately to a song called Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell. She sings about how it's the illusions of clouds, love and life that she knows rather than the experiences themselves. For some reason that song seems to describe or explain something about what's going on with me right now.

I feel afraid. I don't know why.

After taking four vicodin Sunday night, I was still sleepy on Monday and went to bed at 7:30 pm. I slept through until 6 am and awoke feeling refreshed and surprised. I was surprised because I was refreshed and that I had forgotten what a full night's sleep felt like. I also woke up frightened.

I haven't pinpointed exactly what has me frightened, but I suspect it has something to do with everything that's going on. I am now beginning to feel some anxiety about the insurance company's decision and when I'll have it. Today, I changed my alarm service provider, downgraded my cable, cancelled my home phone, and got rid of my data package and I have no idea if any of those were the right moves. I need to reduce my expenses and this is what I came up with. I feel stressed about making these decisions alone sometimes. Quite honestly, I feel stressed by the house! I wish I had made another choice.

VW and I were talking about my desire to die. I'm not suicidal and have no intention of hurting myself, but I have been thinking alot about death. I was deeply concerned until VW said it's just me wanting to feel some relief. I think that's very true. I don't know how to get it, but I want to have a day free of pain, one with enough money to get my hair done, buy myself some incense and body products and revel in the fact that I know my life-changing surgery is covered and scheduled. I can't make any of these things happen so I have to find some joy in something going on in my day to day.

So, when I'm truly in the moment what brings me joy?

I like laughing with GB and DeW at work. I like coming home to the Fabulous Fighting Felines and going to bed with Olive. I like that I'm in the midst of overhauling my attitude about myself. I like my work with VW. I like blogging and exchanging messages with the people on lap band talk. I like spending time with my friends and I'm very grateful for the help my family gives me.

If I can stay focused on these things, perhaps I'll feel less frightened. Perhaps I'll even begin to feel content.

Window Shopping

One of my favorite things about the water aerobics class is the glass wall that separates the pool from the main workout floor. It is through that wall that I can see the Gym Boys--all sizes, shapes, hues, styles, and flavors. It's like being in an ice cream parlor or bakery or walking past a high-end boutique. You know you shouldn't or can't indulge, but you can't help but imagine yourself nibbling a piece of cookie dough out of a spoonful of creamy vanilla ice cream or dragging your finger through some luxurious chocolate mousse frosting or slipping into a garment that costs three months salary--before taxes.

Obesity, depression and meds have undoubtedly taken their toll on my sex drive, but the Gym Boys stir something within me that is pleasant because it's forbidden. They spark a recurring fantasy during which I'm away from home working on a project and temporarily housed in a beach-front hotel. I'm a director or head of the project and have impressive responsibilities. I'm attracted to a man, a co-lead on the project and he knows by some understated gestures I've made. The fantasy plays itself out in a few different ways. The man either manipulates my attraction to him through cruelty or feels similarly toward me, but won't act on his feelings because he deems me unworthy of him or another man exploits my interest in the co-lead with the intention of humiliating me.

Boys (be they Gym or not) are not on my permission list. I had crushes and even a few sexual partners, but no relationships. The glass wall at the gym is a metaphor for how I've dealt with men throughout my life. "Look, but don't touch. See, but don't be seen. Admire, but be sure he never knows. It could be hurtful, embarrassing, uncomfortable, even dangerous. Men don't choose women like you. You be the buddy, but dear God, do not under any circumstances be the flirt. Be thankful that most of them don't see you and those who accidentally do quickly make you invisible."

While there's something pleasant about the forbidden nature of the Gym Boys, there's also something painful. I want to give myself permission to be seen, to be the flirt, to be the chosen, but I don't know how. It's so safe on the other side of that wall, underneath four feet of water it's hard to come out into the open and just see what happens.

VW asked if the Things to do While Alive list is the same as my permission list. I don't know yet, but if it is I'd like for companionship and love and sex to be on the list. The first step; giving myself permission to add this to the permission list.

Suprisingly calm

My paperwork was submitted to my insurance company today. It feels like I've been suspended in time immediately before this moment for years. I was certain that I’d feel anxiety, but I don’t. No apprehension, stress, worry, fear – nothing but calm. It's just done. I can expect an answer sometime in the next month or so and that, too, will be what it is.

This is a milestone on the journey toward surgery and I feel like I should acknowledge it in some way. I jumped through the hoops and it wasn't so bad. The worst part really was the medically supervised program. I still feel bad about failing so spectacularly. My therapist reminded me that effort and active participation count for something. I showed up a minimum of once a month, sometimes more. I did my one-on-one workouts with the trainer, as well as group sessions. I believe the trainer took good notes about the physical challenges I'm having and that she understood the limitations they caused.

So, I release and I let go and await my response. It feels good to be at this place. No matter what, I'm closer to my goal than I've ever been.

Sleepless, again

It's 3:30 on Friday morning and I am wide awake. I need for this to end. I feel irritable and stressed.

I watched a biography on Phyllis Hyman this evening and it made me realize how much I miss her. I listen to her music regularly, but it made me remember how I used to seek out information on her and look forward to her concerts. I admired her. She was beautiful and talented and funny and tall and elegant. I cried for two weeks when she died and was surprised by how much her death hurt. It's still impossible for me to believe that she couldn't see herself as all the wonderful things she appeared to be and was to others.

I suppose people say the same about me. I have been told that I seem to have it all together, but the cracks in the facade always make themselves evident. You just never know what's going on in a person's mind and heart.

Besides reminiscing about Phyllis, I'm noticing a strong desire to say something really nasty. Not malicious, but disgusting. I have always had an affinity for the scatological and lascivious. I'm sure it explains my attraction to adult cartoons. My impulse control around this issue is weakening. It really was all I could do to stop myself from using the word "dick" in a response to a post on my lap band board. I've also starting swearing more. What is it? A need to express anger and aggression? A need for a creative outlet that lets me explore my vulgar self? I'd like to figure this out before I have an episode that leaves me embarrassed and others frightened.

I feel like if I could do or say something nasty I would feel relaxed, as though a weight would lift and I'd feel free in some way. I have thoughts that should only exist in the mind of an adolescent boy and they crack me up. When John was alive I had someone to be nasty with. After he died, I said something that he would have just loved to AL and SJ and the room got quiet. I looked over at them and they were looking at me in stark horror and I was told that they were not John and I simply couldn't talk with them about the things he and I used to discuss.

I suppose nastiness is a type of addiction or fascination for me and I have no outlet! It's like going cold turkey without a support system. Is there a recovery meeting for those going through nasty withdrawal? Perhaps nasty is my passion and I should find a way to exploit it.

Speaking of nasty, I haven't showered since Monday. I feel a little queasy. I've got to stop with the Diet Mt. Dew. I have to use the bathroom again, but I don't feel like it.

I would like to sleep.

Things to do While You're Alive

Another sleepless Saturday night/Sunday morning and I am, once again, compelled to blog. A while back I was reading Bon Appetite and saw an ad that included a list with the same title as this entry. The items on the list were attributed to Elvis Costello. Given that I don't have Elvis' world view, highly developed creativity, and well -- cash, it's very fortunate that visiting an uninhabited island or driving on the autobahn don't immediately appeal to me.

What does appeal to me is the idea of creating a list like this as a way of goal setting toward beginning to see a future for myself. Elvis' list has 21 items on it, which might be a bit ambitious for a girl swimming in the deep end of the pool of depression. Rather than come up with an intimidating collection of to dos, I'm just making a record of some things in my head that I believe I would like to do or be willing to try to make my life more full, satisfying and worth living.

Rediscover my love for music
Read about the presidents
Attain a healthy weight and fit body
Take a culinary tour of India
Go on a yoga retreat
Volunteer for a cause that I'm interested in
Develop a Christmas ritual
Take cooking classes
Master my field
Love me for me and celebrate all that I am

It evolves, but this is a nice place to start.

I Coulda Been a Contender!

My obsessions are getting the better of me. I realize that I have completely stressed myself out about food and at this point have no idea what to eat. I also think that everything I eat will make me gain weight. There is no such thing as healthy food. I keep gaining and gaining and gaining and I feel frightened. Other people lose weight. Why not me?

Money and the fear I have around it are also causing me real stress. Last night I bid on a computer on ebay. Mind you I have no money for groceries or gas and my consumer debt is oppressive. Why was I bidding on a computer that I couldn't begin to afford? I don't even need a computer! I think that when I feel restricted around something it causes me to want to show out with it all the more. I ate pizza, potato chips and cake this weekend in addition to bidding on the laptop. Not to keep you in suspense--I was outbid in the final several minutes of the auction. Thank God! The stress of having to pay for that would have been too, too much for me.

I want to give myself permission to release myself from all my obsessive and punitive thoughts. I am very hard on me and it's beginning to take it's toll. Everyday I am increasingly more aware of my inability to give myself a break. The physical and mental challenges this causes are becoming unbearable. I want to learn to be more gentle, more accepting and kind to me so that I can experience a better life.

My last session with VW was very productive. I'm ready! I just need a lot of help to get there. She suggested that I create a permission board--a visual representation of all the emotions, relationships, opportunities, experiences, and love that I deprived myself of because I bought into a false image of myself. I think the concept of this is really powerful and as I think about it, I acknowledge that I have kept me from more than even I realized.

I want to love something. I mean really just fall deeply in love with an idea or an author or a genre of music or even a piece of music! I am so envious of people who have the ability to take an idea or a theory or philosophy or experience and break it open and explore every aspect of it with curiosity, passion--love. I want that, but must admit that it frightens me. What if I make the effort to break "it" open and find that I'm disappointed or that it wasn't worth being dissected at all. Perhaps that's why I haven't ever addressed the challenges I have with food and depression. I may not be worth it. I fantasize about what could have been if I hadn't been such a demonic force in my life.

I'm sitting here at 9:30 on a Sunday night not really ready to begin my week, but wanting this week to be different from last week. So, I've prepared my lunch and breakfast and will pack my gym bag and set my alarm and get up tomorrow and go run my fat ass around the pool.

I feel hated and stupid and I don't know why. I feel like I should know better and do better, but I don't. Clearly lightening up on me is going to be a challenge.

...and the fat lady has sung!

Today was my last weigh in for the six-month medically supervised diet program. The final word is a 12 pound weight GAIN!

Yep!

So, as a form of punishment I ate three double cheese burgers from White Castle, potato chips, cake and ice cream. I was so sad and humiliated by performing so badly and possibly jeopardizing my chance for insurance approval for my surgery that I just had to make myself pay.

I keep asking myself why I can't master this. Why can't I simply get my weight and eating under control? I say that it's all I want so why can't I make that one thing happen? I ask and ask and ask and I can't come up with an answer.

A friend of mine reminded me that in spite of all of her success and the fact that she has access to anything in the world she wants, Oprah can't get it right either. That's an excellent point, but it still doesn't help. I keep beating myself with every weapon I can find because I can't get a handle on this.

My question for the day is if one cannot see a future for oneself does that mean that it's time to die. I haven't been able to see a future for myself in decades, but now it frightens and worries me. I don't see more than a few hours in front of me and maybe I don't need to. I remember someone saying that when you're driving on the open highway at night, your headlights only illuminate so many feet in front of you and that's all you need to see in order to complete your journey.

I know that I want lap band surgery. I know that I want to release Kick Ass Bridgett and get over all the bullshit that I hold on to as beliefs. I know that I want to live.


A followup to the Sunday morning message--"Thrice means three, Sis. Eurns. Dumb Bitch!"

Tomorrow's the Last Day

Well, I complete my six-month medically supervised diet program tomorrow. I've gained 8 pounds. I'm concerned that the insurance company will decline me because I failed so abundantly and that they'll think that I'm not committed or capable of losing weight. The insurance company said that I had to participate, not that I had to lose anything. I feel embarrassed and sad about not being able to drop even 1 pound in 6 months, let alone gaining a whole heap.

I'm convinced that I'm a dumb fuck.

So, I'll go tomorrow, stand sheepishly on the scale, blame it on my inability to exercise, and apologize to the staff for failing.

I suppose I should focus on the fact that I get my papers and can submit my application for coverage.

I'll let you know how it goes.

1:46 am, Sunday, November 16

At this late early hour, I feel anxious, desperate, discouraged, sad and restless. Only moments ago I was "resting" in my bed, but felt strongly compelled to begin writing the cathartic letter about the experiences that have led me to this place. I have to write this letter not only because VW has assigned it to me, but because I hope it's a key to my healing. My feelings of stress are due to my desire for this to be what it needs to be for me to feel purged. I want to be completely vulnerable and honest - naked and raw for the sake of reclaiming my life.

I need this now because each day I think more and more about death. Not as an action, but as an answer. I feel that my life is over. I have no hope, no vision, no sense of purpose, no joy and I believe that the only thing that resolves this is to die. I don't have thoughts of hurting myself, but I do think about tossing up my hands and taking to my bed until I expire.

This is my forum, my venue, my soapbox, my podium and it is the logical tool for capturing my thoughts. Why? I do hope that someone who finds themselves facing some of the blackest darkness they thought they'd ever witness finds my missives and feels some comfort and companionship. I want to free myself to experience a richer, more satisfying, and happier life. My apologies to those who find my comments too raw, too vulnerable, or too painful. I'm simply using a tool that I think is conducive for exorcising some of the demons that have lived with me for too long.

It sounds silly, but the negative thoughts that I hold about myself have a lot to do with how I was treated by family, adults, and classmates because of my weight. I don't want to, nor could I recall each and every event of teasing or cruelty, but I don't think it's necessary. Suffice it to say that teachers, aunts, uncles, cousins, peers, medical professionals, sales clerks, and strangers, all felt that I was fair game for ugly and hurtful comments. Everyone is teased, but I needed a protector. I needed someone to tell me that in spite of the teasing that I was okay. I didn't get it and I didn't know how to provide it for myself and as a result I bought into it. I began to feel ugly, stupid, unimportant, worthless, and less than human.

This got worse for me in high school when it was compounded with questions about my intelligence and value as a person of color. My memory isn't that this period was filled with a barrage of attacks, but what was lobed at me was impactful, to say the least. I didn't have a a filter through which to pass the information I was getting. I didn't have an adult around me to tell me that I was good, that I was valuable regardless of my weight, race, address, or socioeconomic background. I remember being told that I wasn't as smart as I thought I was, being questioned about getting a good grade, that I could go to any college I wanted simply because I was black. I remember going into hiding because I felt that I wasn't good enough and if I could just stay in the background maybe no one would notice and grant me permission to be on the planet in spite of the fact that I sucked.

There's a part of me (VM likes to call her "Kick Ass Bridgett") that knows all that was totally fucked up and that no one had a right to say those things to me or to treat me that way. She's my protector, nurse, manager, and coach. She wasn't able to help me through all this because she didn't have the tools or maturity. Her response was to go underground to nurture herself and exercise her proverbial muscles. That left me to fend for myself. I did a lousy job.

I don't know why this has had such a hold over me for the last two decades. I see more clearly than I ever have that I have denied myself LIFE because I allowed the people from my past to rob me of my creativity, curiosity, intellectual development, peace, love, sexual identity, financial and material security, adventurousness, and confidence. I have been waiting on "them" to tell me I'm okay and worthy of a good life and to give me permission to pursue my dreams and hopes. I'm still that girl looking for a protector and waiting to hear that in spite of my weight and race that I'm okay, that I'm smart, that I have something to contribute, that I'm worthy of love and companionship and that it's okay to step fully, unapologetically into life and live it the way I want to.

I'm so angry and hurt right now. I've been walking the earth like a wounded animal waiting on someone to pat me on the head and say "okay, you can seek the medical attention you need" and I never hear it because I'M the person who has to do it. I know this, but I just don't know how to give myself permission and to move forward in my life. I am so disconnected at this point from the desires of my heart that I don't know how to access or realize them. I feel lost and overwhelmed. I have wasted so much time. I am so sorry for that.

I work so hard every day, every month, every year to keep my anger at bay. I try not to take up space in the world and not to offend anyone. I, to this day, apologize for being overweight and even undergo physical treatments like eyebrow arches not because I enjoy them, but because I want to make myself more acceptable to other people. I've grown weary and tired and I can't keep it up anymore. I'm walking on eggshells and hiding in plain view. I want and need something different if I am to remain on the planet.

My anger also makes me want to act out. Kick Ass Bridgett is tired of the bullshit and wants to take on a more active role in my life. She's ready to burn some shit down. I want to set Jane ablaze while screaming, "Fuck you, wide-ass bitch whore! Who the fuck do you think you are to question my intelligence?"

I want to set ablaze all the teachers, doctors, sales clerks, and dietitians who didn't give me quality medical care or service because of my weight while screaming, "Fuck you incompetent motherfuckers! You have no right to say whatever the fuck you want just because you perceive yourself as being in a position of power."

I want to set ablaze LK while screaming, "The only reason you're anywhere is because you suck RT's dick and he moved you along for giving good head. It is not because you're capable, punk ass bitch."

I want to burn down Marian HS for the irresponsible and insensitive treatment of students by its teachers and administrators.

I want to bitch slap "Wimpy Bridgett" for denying me a life filled with knowledge, mastery, love, adventures, sex, money, passion, creativity and joy by buying into the negative and unsubstantiated messages I received throughout my life.

I think of this blog in its entirety as a cathartic letter. I suppose it's an organic process and one that doesn't have a visible end point at this time. Kick Ass Bridgett wants to survive. She wants a quality and exciting life and will continue to be proactive about her healing and well-being. I continue to tell myself that all is as it should be and that I'll emerge from this dark place. It's work, though, and sometimes I just don't feel up to it.

A Breasts-Focused Day

So, I finally made it in for my mammogram appointment this morning. I couldn't quite figure out how to put the gown on so I asked Justine, my tech, what was front and what was back. She told me whatever I wanted to do was fine. I opted for opening in the front. I strap myself in (or so I think), fight with the little key and storage locker, turn to head to the exam room only to realize that the right one wasn't secured and I had just flashed Justine in the hallway. She looks at boobs all the time. Hopefully it's not the first time she's gotten a pre-exam flash.

Then there's J in my water aerobics class. She's a lively, amusing and, well, challenging personality. While doing a movement across the pool, she noticed my plunging neckline and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Titties! Titties! Titties!" I was so stunned I didn't know how to respond other than to say that they weren't exposed. I've been wearing this suit for the last several months. I don't know why she's just noticing my cleavage.

Nutty.

Other than my breasts-centered activities, it's been a lazy day. I looked up home stuff on the computer, read, watched TV, ate more junk than I want to see in print and napped. I'm a bit sad about the nap because I definitely won't sleep tonight. I simply couldn't keep my eyes open earlier. I feel irritable and think that it has a lot to do with my inability to sleep.

Other things on my mind have to do with work and home. MLB had a meeting with some former board members on Friday who have wanted to create a green business on the land across the street from our headquarters. The business would provide real jobs, as well as a source of earned income for GCFB. That is hot! I so want to be a part of helping to create that. The other projects we've been working on are equally hot and I am so grateful to be working on those, too. My issue is that I keep thinking, "well, I can't stay here forever. I have to be thinking about the next thing. I shouldn't get too invested." I do want to be invested. I do want to fully commit to my work at GCFB. I do want to learn about all the issues that we deal with. I really want to be there.
So why is it so difficult to just settle in and be okay with the fact that I've settled in?

It's the same with home. I know what I want my bathroom to look like and the types of materials I want to use, but I question whether or not I should spend the money. What if I over improve and am not able to get my money out of the renovation? Even though I'm not likely to move anytime soon because the market sucks, I'm in a house that I can afford and a neighborhood I like, and I can't afford to lose any money on a sale, I keep second guessing myself.

Why is it so difficult for me to just live in the house the way I want to live in it and not worry about whether or not it has a bathtub?

I think getting over these two issues is one of the many keys to my happiness. It's also key to me being more myself, expanding my knowledge, and having richer experiences in my life.

On Being Myself

So, I passed my pysch eval thus moving myself one step closer to surgery. I also called the insurance company today and confirmed that I do not have to lose any weight on the medically weight loss program, I simply have to participate. It's a relief, though still an embarrassment. No matter. My final weigh date is November 19. I'm going and whatever happens happens. I'll be done.

I wish I was someone or something else. Or maybe I just wish I was okay with me. Hmmmmm. I had a conversation with CH and she, as per usual, pissed me right on off. I just got off the phone with her and I think that's the best way to deal with her from now on. I'll just separate myself from her when she gets nuts on me. I also just gave her a directive regarding the project. I need to wrap this up. I want to see some change and I also need to know what I'm up against financially. Finding a context in which to deal with her from a position of strength felt good.

I would like to be smarter and more powerful. I do tend to be intellectually lazy, though. I wish I had been one of those smart kids who could have had any pick of high school or college or career. Instead I went to Hell High and No Name University followed by a lightweight program at CMU. How do I get more out of me? I believe there's more to get, but since I've firmly decided that life is over, I don't know how to access it.

I wish I had chosen to do something that would have earned me money. I just feel so disappointed in me. I feel that I'm screaming inside.

It's been brought to my attention that people find receiving a "subscription" to my blog burdensome. I'm not in some faux hyper positive space in my life and I just can't pretend that I am. I'm morbidly obese, broke, in pain and severely depressed. That's where I am right now. This blog is part of me working my way out, but it is what it is at this moment. My sincerest apologies to those I've offended or inconvenienced. This will be the last one that I send. Interested parties can log on at their own discretion.

The holidays are upon us. Prepare yourselves and enjoy!

Sleepless

It's going on two or more months since I've had a decent night's sleep. I find myself awake until 2 or 3 am, dozing off and then having a difficult time waking up. I don't feel refreshed in the morning and when it's time to go to bed, I find myself dreading it. I told my doctor about it only to learn that neither he nor his nurse sleep. I seem to be meeting more and more people who don't sleep.

Is this an epidemic of sorts? Are people stressed out about the election and the economy to the point that they're not resting? What does lack of rest do to your mind and body? Anyway, he suggested that I take Benedril. I tried it last night and it worked. I did wake up groggy, though. Perhaps I should try taking it earlier in the evening. I feel a little tired now. I wonder if I could sleep without an aid.

I've noticed something and I don't quite know how to react to it. I don't seem to desire or be as satisfied by food anymore. It hasn't resulted in any weight loss, mind you, but it has diminished some stress. For the past several days I've just been focused on food as a way to alleviate hunger rather than to overcome some deep dissatisfaction. I haven't thought about it as a companion at all.

I feel very disconnected from my body and am hopeful that this will mark the beginning of a new relationship with food; one that isn't co-dependent or plagued with addiction. Could it be that the reading and preparation for surgery has had a positive effect on me?

I still feel deeply embarrassed by my inability to lose weight. I just can't seem to break 300. I should do a liquid fast and see what happens. I really want to lose some poundage before my last weigh in at WTG. I'm sure not looking forward to seeing LB again. Maybe I should shift to liquids two weeks before my weigh in.

The money thing still has me down. I don't need anything and don't mind living lean at all, but I have committed my funds in such a way that I don't have money for gas and can't make all of my November bills. Hmmm. I must get a handle on this.

So, what to make of a new weekend? Tomorrow is class and then home to clean a little something. I'll see what my back can endure. Sunday is read and write day. I must finish the draft for the Green Ribbon proposal so that I can get feedback.

It's a slow mind day. I don't have anything else to report.

A New Week Begins

It's Sunday again and I'm not feeling any more focused than I was last week. I actually feel a bit numb. I was listening to a CD yesterday that included meditations. One of the exercises was to stop and think about what you're feeling. I couldn't come up with anything. I don't know exactly what that means.

I talked to VW on Friday about my last encounter with LB and she was helpful. She said that LB has some difficulty with her personal interactions and is overworked and unhappy in her position. Not that those things are an excuse or that her behavior wasn't inappropriate, but it gave me a frame of reference for what happened. She also said that she may have found a new job and won't be there when I return. In either case, she suggested that I ask for an appointment with the other nutritionist just so I can end the program on a positive note. I still want to try something liquid.

I hate that I'm so obsessed with weight. I haven't answered the questions of what my life is like after weight loss with the band. I hope that it's filled with confidence, increased self esteem, less physical pain, travel, laughter, friends, fashionable clothes and hot butt-naked sex.

VW challenged me to put together a vision board. I think it's a good idea and will hopefully help me move past the weight loss obsession.

I Gained a Pound and a Half

My depression and hunger got the better of me this week and I ate too much resulting in a gain. I wasn't devastated, though I did spend the day eating White Castle and potato chips. I'm going to get back on the program tomorrow. I'm thinking about a liquid diet so that I can possibly lose 20 pounds by the time I weigh in next time at Weigh to Go. Maybe I could try some combination of Atkins shakes and vegetable juices.

I went to a support group this evening at my surgeon's office. I found it helpful. There were a lot of people there and those that have had their surgery were very positive. I got to sit next to the one person in the room that had lap band. She said that the loss is slow and steady and she's happy with her decision.

I don't feel understood or supported by those close to me in my decision to go this route. It's okay. People don't understand a decision to volunteer for surgery. They think that I should work harder to make lifestyle changes that will help me meet my goals. I feel like I've been through it all and this is the last thing left for me to try. If this doesn't work then I'll do whatever it takes to live fat and happy. I'll do as many meds, therapy and affirmations as I possibly can to make myself tolerable to me. I have to try this, though, in spite of what people think.

I'm going to bed.

Monday Musings

It was a good day. MLB, PB and I met to talk about next steps for the project. PB was on the same page as MLB and I and it was nice to feel supported and hear some of our ideas and concerns echoed. MLB and I feel like we have clear marching orders and are working well together. I feel good about work and am wanting that feeling to translate into other areas of my life.

I looked back over my materials and realized that I've actually gained 8 pounds since joining WTG. That's kinda bad. I feel so stressed about losing weight. I go to JC on Wednesday and I don't that I had a good week. I let my depression get the better of me and showed out with food on a number of nights. I didn't do as badly as I could and have, but I still haven't yet figured out what to channel that energy into. I have to find something that provides me the same comfort and escape that food does.

My depression wasn't as intense today. I think it's because I feel that I did good work today. I have to occupy my mind with something that is productive and outside of myself. I always find this to be the case, but I also think that by not thinking about what's causing the depression and trying to dismantle the feelings I'm not dealing with it. I suppose I should just focus on what I know works. I suppose I should practice occupying my mind with other productive thoughts that make me feel smart and useful and engaged.

I want to eat, but I don't know why. I don't feel especially sad or dissatisfied, but I want pizza or french fries or White Castle.

I still feel bad about the interaction with the nutritionist last week. I feel embarrassed and tired and judged and like a failure. I have to work on my attitude prior to our next meeting and go in focused and unapologetic. It is what it is and I didn't try as hard as I could or should have. There really was no reason for me to gain 8 pounds. I feel very stressed about my weight and having to lose.

I want something to look forward to. I want to start my bathroom project. I want something beautiful and new going on in my life. That, or go on a trip. I would like to see the ocean and have a spa day.

I'm all over the place. I'll sign off.

Thoughts on the Eve of a Monday

My ability to manage my depression is slipping. I don't go back to those deep, dark places, but I do feel very unhappy about some decisions I've made and I can't seem to forgive myself for them. I feel that I've irreparably damaged my life and that I'll never be satisfied with the life I have. I also seem to be shaky on how to make some positive changes to begin to feel better about my life.

I feel that the financial hole I've dug for myself has so deeply and adversely impacted my life that I'll always be in a precarious and insecure position. I'm genuinely afraid and worried about money. I create budgets. I track my expenses. I save. I shop around for car and home insurance. I look for the best credit card offers. I place limits on my spending on meals out, travel, and personal items. I've made job moves that have increased my salary. I bought a home. I drive a car that's paid for. I have managed to rack up quite a bit of credit card debt, however, that I'm not sure I can get myself out of. I often find myself on payday with no cash to last me from day to day.

I want a better quality of life and unless I get a handle on this, I'll never achieve it. I feel like my stupidity around money is reason for me to be punished. I am literally broke. Thank God my job isn't in jeopardy because without it I have no safety net. This makes me feel bad and contributes to my depression.

I saw my gym crush yesterday. It confirmed for me that I do want a relationship and sex in my life. I want it with someone who I care about and cares about me. I have denied myself this because of my weight and my belief that I'm a bad person. It's hard for me to accept that anyone who could find me attractive has anything to offer. It's contradictory; on the one hand I don't believe I'm worthy of anybody. On the other, I believe that I'm too good for those who find me desirable.

Poor money decisions and an inability to manage my weight have been my justification for living a small life. This depresses me. I'm very aware of it and I think that I suck because of it. I've just wasted all this time and have accomplished a mere fraction of what I could because I'm constantly engaged in social comparison and believing that others are more significant and competent than I am. I can't seem to become satisfied with the life I have and am ambiguous about the life I want. I think I want to be someone else. That makes it impossible to ever be satisfied.

I feel overwhelmed by my depression. My back is feeling a bit better so I worked in the basement yesterday and today took a short walk. Both were hard because my back is not healed, by any means, and I was distracted by pain during each activity. I feel like I don't deserve good health because I've lived my life in such an irresponsible way and wouldn't know what to do with anything of value.

I don't know what to do. When we were shopping for headstones yesterdays, I became acutely aware that I want to live a long life. I want the opportunity to get it right and demonstrate to myself that I can overcame my depression and live a meaningful and happy life. I also want to find and fully explore that thing or those things that make my soul come alive. I want to get moving on this. To remain stuck is to be unappreciative of the gifts that I have.

I told my mother yesterday that I find very little joy in life. I suppose that wasn't the right thing to say to your mother, but we were talking about some things and I was honest. Everything seems very dark to me. I do feel as though life is over. I don't want it to be over, but when I look that's all I see.

I don't know how to lift myself out of this or even if I can.

Why I don't Suck: an exercise in perceiving a new reality

So, my friend RT and I were reviewing my day yesterday and discussing my addictions to obesity and financial lack and she suggested that we both partake in a little exercise. It's a two-parter. Part one, identify where the messages of unworthiness came from. Part two, identify three to five characteristics that refute the message.

Here goes...

Part I

My messages of unworthiness came from peers, family members, health professionals, store clerks, strangers, crushes, teachers, veterinarians, homeless people, the media and anyone else who did or did not see me and my fat ass in a public or private setting. The message that I was unattractive, unintelligent, unworthy, and unlikely to have anything good has been reinforced throughout my life and I continue to believe it.

Part II

• I have good writing skills.
• I've helped the organization I work for raise $600,000 in new money.
• A lot of smart, good people love me.
• I helped relocate my mother into a space that is safe, attractive and perfect for where she is in her life now.

Well that's four, which is the only whole number between three and five, so I think that I satisfied the task.

That was hard and even looking at it I'm afraid to post it. What if someone disagrees and sends me a message that I suck? Notice that some of those are qualified. I can't claim that I AM a good writer or that I played a leadership role in getting the money or relocating my mother. I have to minimize it and question it even though I know it's all true.

I feel all at once damaged and dishonest. I feel that I'm sub-human because I can't manage my weight and I feel uncertain that I feel that way because it seems so outrageous. There are people in the world dealing with so much more than a few extra pounds. I am immeasurably blessed.

So, why is this such a big deal for me? Why can't I let this go and move on with living a full life? Why does it feel like an albatross? Why am I so obsessed? Why am I thinking about a hamburger and potato chips?

I want to correct this. I want to stop denying myself things and experiences and growth and LIFE because I bought into the myth that I am in some way and for some reason a bad person. I've made mistakes. I've been at the front end of some unfortunate circumstances. I've never intended malice or hurt. The pain I've caused wasn't fueled by ego, but by ignorance. I'm much more careful now.

Doesn't that count for something? Can you, BL, forgive me just a little bit?

Emotions Running Wild

I had another stressful encounter with the dietitian at Weigh to Go. She asked me repeatedly why I was there as if I wasn't supposed to be and wasn't welcome. I told her I felt as though I was being attacked. Her response was apologetic, but not shocked. I can't help but think that she was attacking me, so wasn't surprised when I called her on it. She said that it was my time and she was just trying to understand how she could be helpful. I wish I had jumped her, screamed and beaten her death. I feel bad enough about having to get up, travel and talk with people about why I'm failing at a weight loss program. I don't want to deal with someone who's unhappy and snide.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I've been enrolled in the program for the last six months and have managed to gain 2 pounds. I haven't found the program to be very supportive. In actuality, you only have to show up three times every 6 months (which is just plain dumb), the tracking method is convoluted and difficult, and the staff is unfriendly and disinterested. I feel hurt and sorry that I signed up for the program. I'm also feeling embarrassed and ashamed that I wasn't able to lose even one pound.

So, my whole day has been tainted by my interaction with her. I have completely lost sight of the fact that I showed up there once a month because I needed to for insurance to approve my weight loss surgery. I want surgery and this is something that I had to endure in order to prepare my application.

I've also hit a financial bump that is causing me great stress. I feel like I'm addicted to being broke and fat. It makes me feel like such a loser. I feel like four decades more of this is simply not acceptable. I want a seachange--a dramatic shift in my energy and my perception about myself and my expectations of what my life can be like.

How does one kick the habit of a behavior or state of being? Is it the same as kicking the habit of a substance? How do you begin to feel that you're worthy of better circumstances and that it's okay to be who you are?

What I Learned Tonight

I feel like I'd like to have someone in my life and there are no prospects and I have neither the energy nor the confidence to identify any and that makes me feel lonely.

When I go out into the world I see people who are hurting, animals that are abandoned or lost and a city in serious disrepair. That makes me feel sad.

Both make me eat.

So, today I ate crackers and cheese and yogurt and fruit and meatloaf and potatoes and vegetables and popcorn and roast beef and mushrooms and a tortilla. I feel finished eating now, but I did have a whirlwind session.

What could I have done differently? What could I have done to comfort myself in my feelings of sadness and loneliness? Is it as simple as saying to myself that I'm not alone and I'm not sad?

Fuck, I don't even know. I want to lose weight. I'm tired of failing. Why is this so hard? I just want to get myself under control.

What the @#$% DO I Know?

At the urging of my therapist, I watched "What the Bleep Do We Know?" As with the last time I tried to watch it, the first part was incomprehensible, but I did get the second part of the film. I feel like it's information that I've heard before, but just presented differently. I was particularly intrigued by the discussion about the cellular damage caused by our thoughts and how our minds determine what our bodies look like.

So what thing, person, emotional pattern, item, thought process am I addicted to that has locked me into the life that I have? Into the body that I have? Into the financial condition that I have? Into the fears that I hold on to? How do I break these addictions once I've identified them? How do I identify them?

All I want is a bigger, more evolved, happier, more meaningful life. Is that so much to ask? I don't mind doing the work to get there. I just need to understand what the work is and how to do it.

What role does God play in all this? I am, admittedly a bit confused about God. I don't believe that he's this big ole angry white man in the sky waiting to punish me if I have a drink or a lustful thought. But I don't know exactly what He is or how to access him. One of the experts interviewed in the film said that we're all in the process of becoming Gods. Another said that we all have the ability to become the avatars we worship, like Jesus and Buddha. I've heard this before and the intellectual part of me believes this. It makes sense. How is it that no one has come along since either of them who can motivate, inspire, and educate in the same way that they do? Where are the contemporary Jesus and Buddha?

There's another part of me, though, that thinks this is blasphemous. I, the equivalent of Jesus and having the possibility to become like the Buddha? Don't seem right.

I want to answer these questions and become the next higher evolution of myself.

Fucking Turd!

I acknowledge that I'm out of control and that I don't know how to regain it. Once again I got up with the best intentions and once again I blew it. This time with Halloween candy. I feel so disgusted and discouraged and gaseous. All I want is to lose one fucking pound and it's as though I have no capacity to do it! I feel very sad. I feel that I can never be happy if I can't control what goes into my mouth.

So here I sit in my office using my ass like a horn and wondering what does this say about me? Do I really want to lose weight or is it more important to me to satisfy my fleeting cravings? Can I be happy as a person who weighs 350, 400 or even 520 pounds? I feel like this is where I'm heading if I can't get myself focused.

It's hard for my friends and family to understand how stressed I am about my weight. I apparently am more influenced by media and culture than I thought. I very much identify as an obese person and all the stereotypes that accompany that. I feel stupid and invisible and ignored and undesirable every day of every month of every year. I think I suck. Hard. If I'm honest, the only reason I feel this way about myself is because I'm fat. Again, my friends and family think this is extreme, but it's honest. I feel that I and everything around me is shit.

If anyone read this, they would think that I'm some self-pitying fat girl who just needs to commit to spending every evening at Weight Watchers and the gym. I wouldn't blame them. It's very cathartic for me, however, to finally put to paper and say aloud in some forum that this is the way I feel and this is what consumes my thoughts on a daily basis and there is nothing I want more in life than to change my thoughts and there's nothing I know less about than how to do that. This to me is pretty pathetic.

Whew! I feel better.

Random

Today was a high pain day. I don't know if it's the weather or my cycle, but the smallest bit of standing really bothered me. I had to leave at 3:30 for Vicodin and bed rest. I feel better now. Vicodin really is a great pain reliever. It's too bad that people abuse it.

I'm at a crossroads with regards to what to do about my back. I don't feel that I have enough information to make a decision about decompression treatments. I need to feel reasonably certain that it's not a rip off before I can commit. The pain treatments are painful and don't help. I should go back and see Dr. C., but I haven't been able to lose any weight and I feel like I haven't done everything she told me to do and that I'm not worth another option (yes, I said it!). I'm thinking that I'll just get through the holidays and make a decision come January.

I finished PT for my knee on Wednesday (yippee). Now, my ankle hurts. I think it's just some muscle strain. I'm going to deal with it. I don't want anymore PT for a while.

I spoke with someone today about scheduling my bariatric pysch eval. I hope she'll call me tomorrow to set a date. I feel a little nervous, but I've decided to just be as honest as I can. I believe that I'm ready. VW cosigned my thought process, reasoning and expectations. I'm in a good place and feel very good about my decision. I can't wait to finish WTG and get on with it.

Speaking of WTG, I really don't want to go back. I don't think that LB and I hit it off and she is just stress inducing for me. I'm waiting for her head to come to a point. I just can't stand how rehearsed she is. Admittedly, I am very embarrassed and disappointed that I haven't lost any weight. I do feel that I've benefited from the program in spite of that, however. I am more conscious and feel that I make better food choices. I also think that I've put a little distance between me and food. I really want to learn to eat again and reduce my intake.

So, should I tell WTG that I've decided on surgery? I really don't know. If I could lose some weight I would. If I can get myself together enough and lose some weight by my October 15 visit, I'll tell them that I'm going to have surgery. No matter what, I only have two more visits, which is good. I am, however, going to go in lighter than I am now.

I rejoined JC. I do better with a weekly program. It gives me a beginning and an end to my week. I ate a big bag of potato chips this weekend, so I don't think that I did that well. I would, however, like to go to my weigh in. I don't need any food, though. I'll think about it and let myself know.

What else? What else? I suppose nothing. I felt compelled to write, though this is a fairly dull post.

Woman Under Construction

As part of the process of preparing for surgery, I've been reflecting on my habits and what makes me eat when I eat, eat what I eat and the emotions or circumstances related to my choices. It's all at once eye opening and empowering and depressing and a bit crazy.

I have a lot of issues around worth and value. I actually question whether or not I deserve a good life and to have what I want and need in order to be fulfilled. At some point, I gave up my right to grant myself permission to do what I want to do and to feel what I feel. I recognize this, but I notice that I still do it. Even with the surgery, it wasn't until Dr. W. said if you want surgery you should consider x, y and z -- it depends upon what YOU want to do. I didn't truly feel that it was an option until he said that.

This morning I realized that I don't have enough money to pay my expenses for the next few weeks. I would have enough if I hadn't agreed to pay RH according to such an aggressive schedule. I just needed to demonstrate to him that I could afford the project. What I didn't take into consideration is that he presented me with an invoice that, though fair, wasn't what we discussed at all and expected immediate payment! I should have been reflective and given him a set of terms that work for me. Why didn't I? I am so stressed about money.

I feel like I need to apologize to everyone for being me. I feel like I need to find ways to not take up too much "space" in the world. I have to be careful not to offend, demand, need, ask, want because someone will remind me that I'm not worthy and that I've taken too much. I feel very deeply that this is a core issue, but I don't know how to resolve it. I have a stream of images running through my mind as I write this of episodes where I accepted crumbs or set myself up to be served crumbs.

Yesterday felt good. I did my water aerobics class. The water felt warm and safe and I was pleased with myself for getting there. Afterward, I took a long shower and washed my hair. I pulled on my house dress and went to get my brows arched. I spent part of the evening grooming my locs and they look good. My bad feelings about myself manifest in the form of poor hygiene. I will go for days without bathing, won't pay attention to my clothes and appear as though I am quite literally dragging my ass.

I took some time yesterday to do these few things and I think that I look a little less busted. You know, I'm not fully convinced that I do these things for myself, but rather to appear more acceptable to others. I suppose the reason I offered to pay RH according to a schedule that ultimately doesn't work for me is because I feel like I have to sacrifice myself for the comfort of others so that I won't be chastised for taking too much. It's how I seek acceptance.

As I contemplate my next four decades, I very much want to heal myself of this behavior. I'm as worthy and deserving as the next person and I need to start acting like it. I'm tired and I want a better life. Part of getting it is having the courage to stand up and claim it for myself.

Foul Mood, Foul Odor

I started therapy again. I'm glad to be back. I feel like it's a good time in my life to do this. I really want change. I want to deal with the thoughts and behaviors that prevent me from living to the fullest. I want to feel more happy, more satisfied, less punishing toward myself. I am capable of living a bigger life and I want to experience it before I die.

I suppose it's actually a bit dramatic to describe my mood as foul. I feel irritated, restless, distracted, worried and annoyed, which I don't think equates to foul. It adds up to something, I just don't know what. I do know that I feel some intensity. I feel stressed about money and weight loss and the ability to make real change in my life.

Everyday I wake up with the best intentions and everyday I mess up somewhere along the way. Today it was potato chips. I had been thinking about them, but had no problem saying no to buying some. I come home and MM has brought some by to help SJ celebrate her birthday. If they weren't in the house, I wouldn't have eaten them. Seeing them there after just having a thought about them, though, was too much to resist.

I want to change my habits and become a virgin to food. I'd like to experience it as something beautiful, sensual, creative, communicative and controllable. I want a different relationship with it. I want to eat for the pleasure of eating; not because I'm addicted to it or because I need some vitamin D, but because food connects people on a variety of different levels. Perhaps that sounds romantic. I do really like food both as a comforter and a creative medium. I want to find something else to comfort me, but continue to build my culinary skills and knowledge without the fear or temptation of losing myself to food.

So, what's this about odor? I'm in the basement. I put the cat boxes down here and also had some seepage issues. It smells like a combination of mildew and cat urine. Not cool. It's a large area and needs to be swept and mopped. The floor probably also needs to be scraped down and repainted. I so want to do it myself and I find myself discouraged by the fact that I shouldn't. AL and SJ don't seem to notice or aren't bothered by the smell so no one's anxious to clean it except me. It actually makes me angry that I hurt and can't maintain the house to my standards.

Alas, I have decided to try it. I'll get up early in the morning and sweep and mop as much of it as I can. I can just take a Vicodin and get some ice afterward. Hopefully, it won't hurt too much.

I want to go to bed, but I am concerned that the chips have given indigestion. I have to schedule my psych eval for my surgery. What if the doctor says I'm nuts and have unrealistic expectations? I don't believe I do, but what if I say the wrong thing?

Okay, I need to stop buying myself worry. All I can do is go in and talk honestly about my decision and the thought process leading up to it. I think that it will bode well for me that I'm in therapy now.

Til.

Midnight Randomness

It's 12:33 on Sunday morning. I made the mistake of taking a nap and am concerned that I'll be up until dawn. I've been having a terrible time getting to sleep lately. Many nights I haven't dozed off until 3 in the morning. I've had a headache for the last three days and my right eye hurts when touched. The skin around my eyes is going through its change of season thing so it's dark and scaly. I had a massage today that loosened up the muscles in the hip and lower back allowing me to take a short walk, which was kind of exciting.

I perceive myself as having a wealth of physical challenges that are causing me to withdraw even more from participating in my life. I just want to scream and cry right now. I want something, but I just have no idea what it is or how to get it. I think at times that it's some type of spiritual awakening, but I feel challenged to stop worrying and feeling frightened long enough to get centered and listen.

I've been reading a blog written by a woman in Seattle about her lap band experience. She has nearly 50,000 hits and each post gets on average 4 responses. I, and many others, really enjoy reading her blog. It's upbeat, funny at times, pithy and full of cool images. For a second I felt a bit of jealousy. I want my blog to be one that people enjoy reading and follow with some regularity. I got over it pretty quickly, though. I am not in the same place that she is and it's okay. I need to exorcise some shit and this is the place in which I've chosen to do it.

I just watched "PS, I love you" with ARL and SCJ. The movie was too long and the romantic stuff was a bit over the top for me, but it got me thinking. Are we all entitled to love, to companionship, sex, and affection? I don't have an answer to the question. This surfaced for me because of one of Swank's lines where her character says that she hasn't been held or had sex or something. She said it as though it's an expectation or a right.

I never saw it as such. I have two recurring fantasies. One revolves around me wanting someone and them kinda liking me, too, but not acting on it because I'm so fat and they don't want to be ridiculed by other people. The other involves someone who really likes me, but I don't relent because I can't believe that anyone could care about me because of my appearance and weight. I suppose these are not really fantasies, huh? Others who describe their fantasies say that in them, they're elevated to the status of rock star. In the latter, I do get a great kiss, which is something I've never had.

Comcast put a hit out on my service. If I don't comply by October 3, they'll kill my Internet. Other parts of my package will be eliminated at later dates if I continue to resist their demands. It made me feel a bit sad. I feel that I'm too old and make too much to have no money and be behind on my cable bill. It surfaced for me my regrets.

Regret number one: not managing my financial life in a more forward thinking manner.

Regret number two: being fat for all of my life to date.

I have a few others like wishing I had stayed in Florence that summer, or wishing I had gone to school in NYC or wishing I hadn't fucked so and so...you know, episodes that make me wince, but those two are the biggies. To this day, they continue to impact my life.

What four decades more means to me is turning that around. Making choices that support the financial and physical life I want rather than the one I've had. Some days I'm more motivated than others, but I suppose this is what it's about.

Dr. Wood

So, I had my first appointment today with the bariatric surgeon. It was a long day. There were papers to fill out, a session with the dietitian, a group session with the doctor, more papers to fill out and then a one-on-one with the doctor. I like him a great deal. I think he knows his stuff and is invested in his patients' success.

He thinks that I'll do well no matter the procedure. I'd prefer the lap band. It's less invasive and has a shorter recovery time. I don't want to spend time in the hospital or miss a lot of work. I think it's the right choice. Besides, it costs less so my out of pocket won't be so painful.

I'm getting the Realize Band, which has a pretty cool website. I'm going on to play around after I finish this just to see all that I can do. I need to work on making more positive changes to my diet. I'm eating way too much sugar, too few vegetables and fruits and quite a bit of red meat. I'm going to start by reducing my alcohol intake to no more than 4 times a month, making certain that all of my starches are whole wheat, and increasing my vegetable intake. I also need to work on reducing my caffeine intake. I do love my diet soda, however, so I'll have to work up to that.

I don't have a surgery date yet, and likely won't for another two to three months. I have to finish this supervised program and wait for insurance approval.

I want nothing more than to eat right now. I'm choosing not to, though. I want a new life and that requires better choices.

I ate a dozen cookies

I had planned my meals today. Breakfast: 2 slices of whole wheat toast with 2 tbs peanut butter and 2 tbs fruit spread. Lunch: brown rice with broccoli, chick peas, olives and feta cheese. Dinner: veggie burger topped with honey mustard and lettuce wrapped in a lavash. I felt good about this menu. I thought that it would be satisfying and reasonably healthy.

I started off fine, but then, while placing my food in the fridge at work, I came across the remains of a cookie bin. I started eating them at that very moment and actually replaced my lunch with cookies. I feel sick and tired and terrible and bloated and disgusted and discouraged. I could vomit, but I'm really working on stopping that. I haven't done it in a while and it's ultimately not helpful anyway. Also, I'm at work and I don't want to mess up the bathroom or my clothes.

I wonder if I'm a food addict. When I want comfort or feel bored or lonely, I do turn to food. I watch those programs on Discovery Health and TLC about the super obese and I see how much they eat at times and I think, hmmmm, I don't do that nor do I have a desire to, but I do oftentimes feel powerless to stop myself when an eating episode starts.

Why? I know that I want to get my weight under control. I know that my back hurts and my knees hurt and I look like utter hell, so why can't I just do this? I've decided that surgery is the answer, but why has it come to this? Why have I failed repeatedly to get my weight under control? Why is it so much easier to make the wrong choices than it is to make the right? I feel exhausted and disillusioned. Will I ever understand why I overeat to the point of jeopardizing my health and quality of life?

Why did I eat 12 cookies? Today I felt drowsy and distracted and like I don't want to go on anymore. I think the pain and anxiety that I feel about the pain and my growing obesity and about "what's next" make me feel overwhelmed. I don't want to participate or even move anymore. I feel trapped in this cycle of blame and unforgiveness. I work on (or at least believe I do) releasing these thoughts, but I am admittedly not there yet.

Can I be successful with surgery if I can't get a handle on what drives me to eat? How do I find ways to comfort myself and get a handle on the drive to eat? I just want to let go. So, why did I eat all those cookies? All I can come up with is I wasn't satisfied with my breakfast, I'm wanting to eat with abandon right now, I feel fat and ugly and terrible today and I guess I wanted to comfort and punish myself all at once.

Even as I write that I'm not sure that's what it is. I feel like it's something deep that I have yet to access. How do people uncover why they engage in detrimental behavior?

What do I want? What is it? What can possibly be the source of discontent in a decent life? I have to get out of me and into something else.

I suppose we aren't meant to completely understand ourselves. To commit one's life to doing so is very selfish.

Another Sunday

It's the beginning of another week and I feel like I'm not quite ready. I have meetings tomorrow and Tuesday and I have no interest in participating. I really just want to sit in my office and write. I enjoy the solitary nature of my job. I like to just go into my little room, close the door, crack the window and have at it.

I went to IKEA today and it was hard to walk. I wonder what the next step is with my back. It concerns me deeply. Next month will be a year of pain.

I am obsessed with the TLC program Brookhaven Obesity Clinic. There was a mini marathon today and I really didn't want to walk away from it. I fear that there, but for the grace of God go I. I never expected to be this weight with these mobility challenges. I think that the lives of the people profiled on the program are so hard and I have such a hard time believing that the administrator doesn't advocate surgery. The narrator refers to it as a "quick fix." I can't help but question the administrator's thinking. Perhaps if the residents could see some weight loss, regain their mobility and get some relief from their chronic conditions, they'd be motivated to kick their addictions. Minimally they'd feel better. I don't know. They're lives just seem so very, very hard and I can't imagine not considering every available option.

Unless something really sexy happens, I'll likely wait until Wednesday evening to check in again. It's the day I see Dr. Wood!

Overall Calm

It's Saturday. I woke up in pain and skipped my aqua aerobics class. My hips were especially painful. I rallied and cleaned my filthy refrigerator. I felt good after that. I couldn't bend over to get the freezer, but I'm thinking about how I can get it done tomorrow. I want to return to full functionality and sometimes I push myself toward that goal.

Last Monday, I had the nerve block test and it wasn't effective. The whole process was terribly painful and left me in more pain than when I went in. I didn't get any relief and it left me feeling convicted, concerned, perplexed, and in a state of disbelief. I still can't believe that at the age of 40 my mobility has been impaired to this degree. I have been fearful of losing mobility for several years, but I thought that it wouldn't even be a threat until I was in my 60s. It's still hard for me to believe that walking and standing and cleaning are a challenge for me. I often feel as though I made it up and if I would just stop writing this story it would end.

I don't know what to do next. Surgery is not an option and likely wouldn't help. The physical therapy didn't work. The injections haven't worked to date and I don't know what to expect. So, the act of cleaning my refrigerator today was one of rebellion. It needed to be done and I knew that neither of my house mates was going to do it. I'm not the best housekeeper in the world, but I do have standards. I don't think that I or anyone else should eat from a dirty refrigerator.

In addition to pain, I'm dealing with some real cash flow issues. I have never been a good money manager. I tend to spend everything I get and then some. As a result I've landed myself in $15,000 of credit card debt, have no savings and need about $560 more than I earn to cover my monthly expenses. I felt powerless, embarrassed and depressed when I was recently denied a $250 limit increase on my personal line of credit. I developed a budget and a set of strategies for myself that immediately restored a sense of accountability, hope and power. I'm committed to following my budget, eliminating my consumer debt by the end of next year and building my savings. I'm too old to have no cushion and to feel so stressed about money for no other reason than I buy things I can't afford.

My appointment with Dr. Wood is Wednesday. I'm excited, but trying to contain myself because I don't want to be disappointed if something goes wrong. I am battling with myself to stay focused on this as being something I want so that I can achieve greater health and a transformed life rather than getting sidetracked by what might happen and become a barrier to me getting what I want.

So, overall, I feel calm. I'm still hoping for a solution to my back problems. I have a plan to address my finances. And I remain excited about and convinced that my decision to have surgery is the right one.

It's all good.

Am I supposed to write everyday?

Why am I so obsessed with blog rules that do or so not exist?

Anywho, I had dinner with CMB and KGB this evening. I really enjoy and love them. I feel that I can be vulnerable and real with them. We also have good food all the time, which I absolutely adore.

I want CMB to be my advocate for my surgery, but I was hesitant to ask because I feel that she doesn't completely embrace my decision. She mentioned tonight, however, that if I couldn't find anyone else to call her. Should I? I suppose that I should just ask her and see what happens.

We talked tonight about live horror stories regarding people in the hospital or in emergency rooms. I suppose I should be dissuaded from having an optional surgery given some of the issues people experience in hospitals. I'm not dissuaded, though. I want the surgery and I want it as soon as possible. I want a new birthday. A new life.

SJ and I were talking about what a new life for me looks like. I have no answer. I think that it emanates from a feeling, which I don't have right now. I believe that I'll have it when I'm thinner. Right now I feel that everything revolves around my weight. I don't know what life looks like as a slim person. I don't know exactly what I expect. I just expect to feel different. And that by feeling different I'll have a different life experience.

I hope that it's a life filled with companionship, love, laughter, fashion, health, movement, travel, sex, entertainment, good food, good drink and good choices. I hope that it's a life that's more complete than the one I have now. One that's more expressive and interactive and fun and meaningful.

Probably a lot, too much, actually, to hang on a lower weight.

Speaking of a lower weight, it's been a month since I've been to my fat center and I haven't lost a pound. I suspect I've gained. I don't want to face the nutritionist again. I felt judged and apologetic and I don't want to feel that way again. I suppose the larger question is why can't I lose a pound? Am I insane? Am I just a failure? Am I hopeless? Will surgery work for me? Do I have a right to try after having failed so many times? I don't know. The whole thing makes me sad.

I shall face the nutritionist and the scale and while I may not be victorious, I can at least not be pathetic.

A New Life

I want a rebirth. A second chance. A new birth day. A new set of memories, accomplishments, joys, likes, loves, experiences.

Yes.

I have decided to have the surgery, but feel unsettled about my decision because I can't do this on my own. I can't get this weight off or even make a commitment to try. I'm so burned out on dieting that I just can't do another. I'm so disappointed and disillusioned about the failures that I just don't have the energy to try anymore. This combined with my belief that my life has ended make it difficult to be motivated.

Another concern I have is that after the surgery, I'll just look like a fat person who lost weight. I'll never secure the status or value of a person who achieved slimness through non-surgical means or is naturally slim.

I'm also having difficulty reconciling the contradictions. I want to eat with abandon. I'm not able to lose even 1 pound on the weight loss program I'm on now. Am I really capable of committing to the rigors of post-surgery life? And if not, what hope is there for me to engage in my life?

I don't want to go anywhere, do anything, advance in my career, bathe, dress. What if weight loss doesn't help to change some of this? I feel like I'm not welcome in the world. As though I'm not loved or capable of being loved and that nothing I do or think matters. I admit that I feel a bit tragic.

So what motivates people? Why does Barack Obama want to be president? Why do people want children? Why do they strive to achieve things on a professional level? Why do they seek love?

I do apologize for working out all my stuff in this space even though no one's reading it. Maybe I'm telling someone else's story and they will find it helpful.

Thoughts on eve of a weekend

I have noticed that I've been a bit withdrawn and apathetic this week. I feel very different from before, which is different from I felt before before. How does one get oneself to a place where one feels engaged and good? At the age of 40, why am I still asking this questions? When is it just what it is and that's what it is?

I feel very much that I want a new and different life, but I don't why or what it looks like. What is so wrong with my current life? Why am I 40 years old still asking this question??? I just can't take that. I thought that 40 meant total self acceptance and total love. I just thought that I'd be over all my stuff and be getting on with it.

So what does on with it look like? I thought that I'd be comfortable in my skin and that I'd have less of my skin. I thought that I'd be secure in my work and that I'd have a bona fide "career." I thought that I'd be an expert at something at this point. I thought that I'd be on my way to financial security. I thought that I'd have or have had a relationship. I thought that I would have evolved into all me all the time and be good with it.

If anything I feel more closed off from everything. I've minimized my life in a way that I thought made me feel more safe. I feel as though I need to be punished because I haven't been forgiven for some past transgression. I don't know what the transgression is or who's supposed to forgive me, but that's what I feel; as though I'm somehow unworthy of a good life and of love and support and help when I need it. I think I suck. I don't know why, but that's what I think and I don't know how not to suck anymore.

I feel like this is so pathetic! Why am I on the Internet whining about a life that is overall very decent. I have my education, a job I love, friends, my mother and my sister, overall good health, choices. I mean what is the problem? Why do I feel disengaged and bored and vacant?

I don't know. I don't know how to get answers. Is it a crisis of faith? How do I develop a legitimate and engaged relationship with God? I feel tired and not like trying anymore. If I don't do something, though, I'll just end with no fanfare or joy.

I never quite know when I'm through with these. I just want my surgery, I suppose. I want to see if life as a human sized person makes a difference. My fear about that is that I won't maintain it for life. That I'll end up absolutely huge.

I want a full life. I don't know exactly what that means or what it looks like.

Whew!

Fear & Loathing

I was going to skip writing today because there's so much going on inside of me right now and I still feel very uneasy about putting my stuff into these postings. Not because I feel like my stuff is so precious, but because it just feels strange to declare the right to purge myself. Some people would say that I shouldn't use a potentially public forum if I'm truly sensitive about this. I suppose for me it's about growth. It's about learning to be more expressive and vulnerable with the hope that I find a connection with someone else who feels or experiences in a similar way. I want to feel more alive...more human...more me.

So here goes. I want to scream and crawl out of my skin. I want to run and to travel and to act out decadently. At the same time, I want to rest deeply. The type of rest that I've never experienced and don't know if it really exist. The type of rest that results in being totally refreshed and alert and renewed to the point that you just can't wait until the next anything - everything! The next meal is exciting. The next work challenge is exciting. All of your relationships are exciting. The air is exciting. It's all just so damn exciting because you feel fresh and so does everything else. I don't know if that type of rest exists, but I sure would like to experience it.

I want something and I don't know what it is. I guess I need something and I don't know what it is. It keeps me up at night. It distracts me from my job. It impacts the way I interact in my relationships. It's got me feeling hopeless and discontent. I feel like my life is over and that I'm simply waiting to stop breathing. I don't want to bathe, dress, order my locs. I just go through the day looking for activities and reasons to be motivated. I'm going through the motions and hoping that by doing that I'll find some meaning and purpose. I really just want to withdraw and sleep and read.

This may sound a lot like depression, but I don't feel sad. I feel regret. I am disappointed that I didn't manage my financial life more responsibly and am now swimming in debt that seems insurmountable. I am disappointed that I spent the last four decades obese and denying myself love and fun and life. I have been on self-imposed punishment for my entire life. I feel as though I have a very poor quality of life and would very much like to have more flexibility at this point. My past decisions have landed me in this place and I don't know how to turn things around.

Perhaps this is what's making me want to scream.

I don't know how to end this one. I've imposed on all who may read this and I still want to scream.

Pain & Distraction

I've been thinking only of getting to this all day today. It's odd. I was having severe pain in my pelvic area that I believe is coming from my back. I could be wrong, but that's what I think. I feel distracted by the pain I experience and it's hard at times to remain focused. All I want to do is lay down until I can figure out a way to get rid of the pain. I suppose that's not possible.

In addition to pain, I think I'm also distracted by my decision to have surgery. I have yet to meet with the surgeon, who can still tell me no, or to talk with my primary care physician, who could tell me he won't cooperate, and I am failing at the physician-directed weight loss program and wonder if that will disqualify me. I want answers and a schedule. I have to wait until the 24th to meet with the surgeon and find out what's what. I meet with my doctor Wednesday.

I'm afraid to fantasize about life not weighing what I weigh, free of pain and depression. I do it, but I'm concerned that it can't or won't happen. I feel both tired and bored.

I suspect my blog is tiring and boring.

I'm back

I took a long time off because I felt that my posts were too full of pain and lacked gratitude. I suppose it is my intention to use this as an instrument of expression, but I began to feel uncomfortable about possibly making others feel uncomfortable. Claiming this space just for me feels like I'm burdening others with my emotions and thoughts and misgivings and errors and that didn't seem right to me.

Well, I'm back and I'm still not convinced that it's right to burden others with my issues and whining about being a fat girl. At the same time, I haven't resolved my desire to have a forum to talk about my feelings about my life and strong desire for change.

At this point, I'm over 300 pounds, which is a gain from where I was last time I signed in. I was initially feeling quite powerless about the gain. I am dealing with serious back pain caused by spinal stenosis, a herniated disk and spondylolisthesis. I just completed a round of PT that wasn't successful. I begin another round for my right patella on Wednesday. I'm hopeful that it will help because it is very painful to walk up and down stairs.

I share this because I haven't been able to work out since hurting my back. My pain manifest in difficulty standing and walking so it makes it hard to do many of the things I used to do and enjoy doing like walking, cooking, cleaning my home, jogging. This depressed and still gets me down. I miss exercising and feel that I can't take care of myself or manage my life.

My response to the pain has been to minimize. I don't do much other than go to work and even that has been impacted. I've started to work quite a bit from home. Fortunately, my boss is very cool and isn't about measuring my effectiveness by the number of hours I spend in the office. I write a lot and am able to do my work from anywhere, really. I work with wonderful people, which is great and unexpected.

So what does what have to do with what? Well, I've decided to have gastric bypass surgery. That was not the smoothest of segues, but it's what's on my mind and it's why I wanted to re-visit blogging. I want to use it to document my experience.

My decision was based on a lot of things. In spite of my best efforts, I now weigh more than I ever have in life. My mobility has been impaired by my back, which has, (in part anyway), been impacted by my weight. I have high blood pressure and depression and am concerned about diabetes and being confined to one of those little scooters.

So, to date, I've started a physician-supervised diet program and found a surgeon. I still have a ways to go, but feel confident that I will be scheduled by February 2009. I have gained 5 pounds since starting the weight loss program, which doesn't surprise me. I do feel a bit beaten up, though, after my last talk with the nutritionist. It's just humiliating to keep going through these programs and talking to these people about my weight and not losing anything. I feel judged and tired.

I want to work through some of the emotional issues that cause me to eat so that I'm prepared to be successful on my post-op diet. I'm 40 and figure that I'm about half way through. I spent the first 4 decades fat and would like to spend the next 4 not fat.

The journey begins one step at a time.

Following a Brief Hiatus

I withdrew for a while because I needed to re-assess how personal I wanted this to be. I want very much to talk and to be heard about some things that I can imagine make people feel uncomfortable and expose my vulnerabilities. This space has become about so very much more for me than weight and ultimately can reveal how to get myself under control. Am I ready? What will I learn? Can I be okay with it?

Right now I feel angry, lost and vacant. I don't know how to move past or resolve these feelings. I want something to mean something. I want to know that I'm doing something that makes a difference in the world. I want to scream about what I perceive as a dramatic plunge in morality, importance and focus taking place within American culture. I feel deeply distraught about the situation with the mayor and believe strongly that nothing will happen.

I have no belief that if he falls I'll feel that it makes up for all the disappointment and grief that I feel. I just feel that it's not okay to lie and cheat and engage in dastardly behavior with total disregard for other people. He completely misrepresented himself and it's not okay with me.

I don't know how to move away from this global malaise that I feel. I can't seem to focus my mind on things that I can change, effect, see. I've been thinking about taking a mission trip or volunteering. Perhaps if I can see how my life directly and positively impacts something I'll feel more calm. Right now I want to crawl out of my skin and eat fried foods!

On Management

Time management, weight management, project management, home management, staff management, managing management. The data project at work is a bit overwhelming and I'm sorry that I sought help from the other staff. I should have just kept it inside of the department and solved all the problems myself. My quest for help came back to bite me in ways that I couldn't predict or imagine. It exhausts and confuses me.

There is a danger in asking for help that I find manifest in all areas of my life. I am having difficultly distinguishing between what I need to request help on and what I should tackle alone. What does help look like? How does one know when one has been helped especially when what one needs help with is intangible, immeasurable? What happens when it's not a task, but a change or a perception or a revelation? How do you know when the change is complete or the perception has been changed or the revelation been revealed? What if you don't like the outcome?

I'm probably suffering from an over analyzed life, but I can't help but be very aware of the vacancy in me and how I want desperately to fill it. Why is this important or fair? People in other cultures, people in the same culture have a lot less going for them than I do and they manage to live fulfilled lives. Why does what I feel matter? Should it matter? Is it selfish and petty to place any focus at all on my weight and food issues?

Are these issues simply about food and my lack of discipline? If so, I just need to buck up and get over it. I believe that it is, but at the same time I can't seem to commit to making change. I just don't know what to do. I was thinking that maybe I should adopt an alter ego and spend time as that person in other parts of the country or world. I don't know why, but I feel as though I have to do something drastic in order to become the change I want to see.

I guess that's it.

Emotional

I feel vacant. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it, but vacant is the only word that comes to mind. I feel as though something has left me or that I've become acutely aware of something that was never there. Bored, tired, frightened, overwhelmed, hopeless, anxious and stupid. I can't seem to get a handle on myself.

As a way of distracting myself and addressing the anxiety I feel, I thought that I should get a home project. I had a great time decorating my mother's apartment and my house is a blank canvas. I went on a bit of a shopping spree and now feel sorry. All of my purchases were somewhat impulse buys because I felt like I needed something material to satisfy me. It never has in the past, but there's always a first time, right? I have since come to the conclusion that I need to be my project, but I don't know what that means.

I went out today wearing ripped black pants and white socks. I regularly do a snatch back on my hair, I wear knit pants most of the time because my behind has spread and my more fitted items don't fit. I look like hell and I don't think that I'm worthy of looking better.

I feel depressed about my weight and my inability to commit to regularly making good food choices. I get up with the best intentions and make good choices in the early part of the day. I can't maintain my resolve, however, throughout the evening and end up consuming way too many calories. It's absolutely amazing to me how easy it is to exceed my targeted caloric intake.

Well, I don't know what to do.

Today

I know, inventive and telling title, but I couldn't think of anything. I feel better since starting to move. I've been to the gym five of the last seven days. I missed the gym and am glad to be back. My back is still weak so I've been taking it easy. No more than 45 minutes of cardio and I just added weights in yesterday. Tomorrow is Pilates. Saturday, Yoga. My goal is to do something every day.

Eating is still a challenge. I just can't seem to get focused in a consistent and effective way on eating better. I don't eat junk, but I eat way too much. I also absolutely adore alcohol. I'm going to take a break from JC because I miss food and cooking. I want to try soups and stir fries. I suppose it's constant retraining and thinking about making better choices.

I watched a series of documentaries on obesity and dieting this weekend. It was sad and frightening to watch these people who weighed nearly 1000 pounds. Some of them consumed as much as 30,000 calories! I don't want that for my life and I don't know what will prevent me from getting there. I never expected to be this heavy and am having a very difficult time getting below this weight. I haven't given up, but must admit that I do feel hopeless. I work everyday to change my mindset.

Feel a bit sleepy. Hopefully I can empty my mind and get some rest this evening.