Thursday, 21 June 2012

Running Review

I read This article a little while back. The blog is a fitness blog about a mama who gained quite a bit of weight after having kids, and vowed to get it off - she has done a great job. In it, sometimes, she discusses her battles with feeling blue or being mildly depressed. This specific entry caught my eye. Unlike her other entries it wasn't filled with inspirational crap, or the I did it and so can you, or the look how amazing I am things that I noticed tend to run rampant on her and many other fitness blogs. This post talks about how she was in a funk, and hadn't been to the gym in quite a while, she kept making excuses. Finally - she just did it. After her work out, she admits:

"I can’t promise you that working out will make you feel “better”, but it sure as hell won’t make you feel worse.

So that has been my motto for the past two weeks. I am NOT NOT in anyway trying to lose weight, I can't handle that right now. What I can handle is trying to exercise, and if I get to the point where I think weight loss could be something I can handle without falling apart then I will try to modify my eating. Food is still my best friend and enemy. I am 176lbs. I fear getting to 180, and then 200. But I am trying to accept that right now I am doing the best I can by running.

So I run. Sometimes I cry through my run, sometimes I have to lay on my bed for an hour before I can make myself get up. Most of the time it doesn't make me feel better, half the time it makes me feel defeated - but I do it. I run because I know its good for me in more ways than just for my physical health.

Tuesday, 19 June 2012

Here we Go Again

A new Medication.

So I hadn't heard from Wiggers by Friday so I called him and he emailed me back that evening. I replied back quite snappily. I don't think he got how serious things were becoming and how fast. I don't think he quite understood what I was doing to myself, I know I still don't.... he told me to call monday and make an appointment.

I guess he read my Friday email monday morning because he emailed me again and told me to come in ASAP. So I went in, thank goodness for a boss that will let me use one of his three cars. We talked and I told him everything. That Im not depressed all the time, but that I cycle so fast. That I can't concentrate at all at work anymore, and that I feel like I could sleep for hours all the time. I told him I look for an escape nearly every night and had been taking sleeping pills or tryptophan to knock myself out. I told him how close to suicide I had been, I laid it all out.

I told him I wanted to try ECT and that was one of my main reasons for not killing myself - it would be cheating to do it if I hadn't tried everything. I told him I didn't know a ton about it, but it was worth it to me. He explained that he didn't think it will work for me for a variety of reasons (age, class of symptoms etc). I told him that I felt like I needed to get back to baseline before any bipolar meds would be able to stabilize my moods. I told him that I need help accepting myself and being okay with me, and its the self loathing and others' judgment (or my perceived judgement) that causes me great pain. He wants to try one more med.

So I am now trying abilify - its the one with the horrible commercial that everyone makes fun of because it's list of side effects make up 2/3 of the commercial. I dont know. I took it last night. I felt so nauseous this morning, and it took me a while to fall asleep - but that could be nothing. Who knows.

I think I will email him and have him put me on the ECT outpatient list just in case - I can always be taken off if the abilify works.

Im so tired of medications.

Thursday, 14 June 2012

No Response

I emailed wiggers yesterday evening.

No response. I know I'm not top priority, but I thought I got my impending internal explosion message through to him pretty clearly.

Just another kick in the ass is all.

And on the sad fat girl note: I totally became that girl last night. And I cried and cried while I did it.

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Sad Fat Girl - 2

Food. Food. Food.

Every time I take a bite of food I feel disgusted with myself. I see every morsel, every crumb as another cell of fat on my body. I hate it. I look at food as such an enemy. I am disgusted with myself.

So I feel awful about myself, and the only thing that makes me feel remotely better is food. So I take another bite, and another. Sometimes the boys bring me a muffin or a donut from timmy's - and I know I shouldn't eat it, but I do, because it makes me feel better.

Its a vicious cycle. I've given up on weight loss, and that makes my relationship with food even worse. I don't know what to do or where to begin.

Monday, 11 June 2012

Another difference

This is not only different feeling...its having a much different effect on Andrea. Before she was filled with energy to help me - Ive drained it now. I don't say this because she is being unreasonable; she isn't - but this go around, is so much harder for both of us. As a result we are both off, both distant, and both afraid of making the other feel bad/guilty/unhappy.

I dont even know what I want to say, or what Im feeling. It's not that I am hiding something or trying to keep things from her.


I dont know how relationships are supposed to survive shit like this. I am constantly worried. What if this continues on and off for years, what if I am constantly dealing with this? I can't ask her to continue to do this. Moreover, Im not sure she would want to stay anyways.....

Sunday, 10 June 2012

Falling Silently

Couldn't even make it through my own kid's birthday without needing to pop a pill. Does that make me an addict, or does that make me pathetic? Im pretty sure its the latter, as this isn't the first time I've used something to get through an ocassion without internally exploding...*sigh*

Andrea confronted me about me being all off for the past week, and mentioned something about my moods over the past 5 days. She mentioned feeling hopeless and lonely. She asked if I was suicidal - I said sometimes, and then I said that it certainly felt like it was never going to go away. She said she can't live in fear forever. I dont blame her...and I dont want her to live that way.....

I dont want to live that way.

She suggests a med change. I say to what. It's all happening again. Only quieter this time..

Saturday, 9 June 2012

Sad Fat Girl - Part 1

I was contemplating starting another blog - called Sad Fat Girl. I almost did it too. But then I decided to pick up my old pen and paper journal and started flipping through it. It was at that point that I realized that in the midst of my horrid depression I was struggling immensely with my body weight and feminity. On top of that I referred to myself as the Sad Fat Girl. So, it's not right of me to start another blog, because these two issues are very inter-related. Instead, I shall just put a header as ny title any time I talk about this.

I am sitting in my bed, Andrea is sewing on the couch. I just want to hide from the world to be honest. There is a brownie in the fridge - and I am fighting every urge to go and get it and eat it in my bed in hiding. The only thing that is stopping me is the potential embarassment of them finding out what I'm doing. But, the fact of the matter is that I am *that* girl. The one who eats the food in hiding so no one knows how disgusting she really is - or at the very least I am on my way to being that girl.

I have given up in every sense of the word.

I am not nearly as outwardly depressed as I was last year - but I certainly am much more resigned and hopeless.

Tuesday, 5 June 2012


Im so fat. Seriously. I hate it. I hate being in my skin, in my body. I hate looking at me, I hate feeling me. I hate it all.

Emailed wiggers. Nothing he can do. Nothing can be done - except stopping my meds. Which I tried - and failed so poorly.

Andrea suggests weightwatchers. WW is for fat people who have no other choices, and can't do it themselves - which I guess is me perfectly, but fuck - I cant get a handle on my head, and now I can't get a handle on my own body. I depend on Andrea emotionally even. It's like I merely exist by leaning on people, and having crutches. I'm a weak miserable person.

I'm the same weight now I was when I started trying to lose weight. 12 weeks - no change. 170lbs....


I quit. I can't do this any more. What's the point? I'm unhappy no matter what I do.