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!