Monday, May 2, 2016

Back At It

Here I am again, willing myself to talk about physical and mental things that are fucking with my life. I know I was writing once a week before I started slipping into a depression. Then I gave it up, like I did with eating well and getting more exercise. Yeah, I fucked up.

It wasn't any one thing. It was a lot of pain from my back. It was worrying about money constantly. It was people treating me like I was only good for one or two things, then not even having the decency to listen when I tried to voice my issues. It was a lot of being so tired of everything: tired of life, tired of pain, tired of failing. I know that all of what I just typed (with the exception of the pain and money issues) are symptoms of depression, but it was a huge weight that just kept growing.

I ghosted for awhile. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to interact. It was hard for me to even chill with my family. It was a pain to be pleasant at physical therapy when my body and mind were hurting so much.

I started coming out of it a couple of weeks ago, but I was already back to my old ways, which dragged me down further. I finished physical therapy, but I've been slacking on doing it at home, which is a bad thing. I do some stretches and some stability ball practice, but then I don't push myself further. Apathy is a motherfucker.

Then last week, I developed a horrifying pain in my neck and shoulder blade. I couldn't turn my head. I couldn't lie down without developing a headache. I just felt like shit. I hurt so so much, and just wanted to sleep all of the time to get away from it. But I had obligations and other things that I had to deal with, so no sleep for me. My neck finally got better (still slightly twinge-y, but I don't have to down naproxen and muscle relaxers like a fiend anymore), but the no sleep stayed, and now I'm suffering from insomnia.

I'm a hot mess.

But....

I decided, yet again, that I cannot continue on this path. I started over again today. I am still creeping out of depression and pain, but I need to push forward.

I weighed myself, and by some fucking miracle, I have only gained a few pounds. I went for a long walk with the dog, and am only a couple hundred steps away from my walking goal today. I plan on doing my physical therapy exercises after I digest lunch.

Lunch....

Food. That is still where my weakness is. I just ate a sandwich and more chips than I care to think about, then started thinking about the ice cream and cookies we have in the house. Instead of indulging, I sat down to write this to try and distract myself. It's sort of working. I figure that since I've already binged on chips, I need to not eat other crappy shit. I might have a glass of skim chocolate milk, which sometimes help when my sweet tooth hits.

This food thing is a bear. I can't just stop eating, but I can't do what I did right now. I know part of the reason I ate a bunch of chips was because I ate breakfast super fucking early today (insomnia got me out of bed at 5), then didn't have a snack in between breakfast and lunch. I felt ravenous and stuffed myself. Now I just feel guilty, and will hate to see what my calorie tracker says after I enter the information.

Ah well. I can't undo it. Onward, I guess.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Pain

Didn't write a health post last week because I was upset and depressed with everything. I almost didn't write a post this week, but here it is. I think I'll start doing them on Tuesdays because I'm usually wiped after physical therapy on Mondays.

So. Health. I hurt. A lot. But only sometimes. Other times my leg and back are just fine. Then I move wrong or sit wrong or think that I don't need Advil or Skelaxin. Then I pay for it. Mightily. I really hate it. There have been more than a few times I've dissolved into tears because I feel useless and I hurt. SO. BLOODY. MUCH. I can't lie on the floor anymore and play board games. I have to sit upright, and even then, I can sometimes still hurt myself (typing this as I stand lest I hurt). Getting into the car is a fucking joke. I can't sit on public transportation because the seats hurt. I have to stand and pray that they don't jerk too suddenly and fuck up my leg.

I've been having more panic attacks lately. I'm spiraling into depression because I feel like a failure at everything. My sleep is shot to hell. I made it through yesterday on three hours sleep after waking up to have a panic attack over money issues (another story for another day). I haven't been exercising (with the exception of walking and physical therapy) or really eating right. I'm trying to snap myself out of this funk, but it is hard to do.

Having a physical injury when you're already mentally destroyed is like hell on earth. The feelings of being useless multiply. You feel like you're letting down friends and family when you say that you can't do something. I try to be upbeat and do my physical therapy without complaining and just try. TRY. And at the end of the day I'm wiped the fuck out from trying and get snappish with my family. Lately I've taken to crying in the shower, usually because I'm upset, but there are the times that my leg and back hurt so much from just standing underneath hot water that I have to let out the pain somehow. Crying doesn't help, but screaming wouldn't either.

I try to be strong. I try to just live my fucking life. I try to tell myself that tomorrow will be better, that tomorrow I can try again, that tomorrow the therapy exercises will make a huge difference.

It never fucking happens.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Weekly Rambling

I usually do a weekly post on my health situation on Facebook. This one might go a little bit long, so have a post.

First off, I'm gonna be straightforward about last week. I failed. Spectacularly. I was okay on Monday and Tuesday. My leg even felt like it was healing up.

And then I fucked up.

Tuesday night saw me battling insomnia. That's fine. I've dealt with it before. Then I went to move my leg around my dog (who insists on sleeping between my legs....wtf), and the most godawful searing pain shot down my thigh to my knee. I actually jerked and cried out loud enough to wake up my husband. I was in tears. It hurt so fucking bad. I was so upset with myself. I felt like I had been making progress and it was shot down in an instant.

So me being me, I just caved. I didn't do much. I hurt so much that it was (and still is, but we'll get to that in a moment) hard for me to get into bed or sit down or bend over or really, just about ANYTHING, without causing a huge amount of pain. I sucked down Ibuprofen like a fiend, but knowing what type of damage it can cause, I started tapering off on Friday. My eating healthy habits suffered because I started spiraling.

And here we are. Yesterday was pretty bad, and when my leg gave out on me when I climbing into bed, I just collapsed and started crying. Today has been a bit better, but not by much (now battling another cold and with this leg.....ergh). I ate like crap today. I acknowledge it. I need to do better tomorrow.

Yet through all of this, I haven't gained weight. My body is a cunt.

So I'm resetting again. I have decided that I'm going to do my leg strengthening exercises twice a day, just to keep things limber. I'm going to revert back to eating better. It wasn't hard to start it up. I can still do it. I'm going to keep to walking moderate distances and using the elliptical so I don't screw up anything with crazy flailing or lifting too much.

The above paragraph is a marked change from how I felt three hours ago. I was just sitting there in a horrible funk, thinking that nothing will work or change for me, that I'm always destined to be like this. I don't know what snapped inside me, but I can't do this. I need to get better and keep on going. If not for me, then for my family.

So here's to attempt #.....ah shit, I lost count. I'm just going to do it. Fuck you, body!

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Weight Ramblings

Background for the people who aren't on my Facebook: I started trying to eat better and move more at the beginning of the week. This is how it's going.

Two and a half days in. Couldn't hit the elliptical yesterday because my leg muscles (quads?) were screaming. As was I every time I went to sit down or bend my legs. I walked a lot and took Tylenol and whimpered through the day. Ate the same amount of calories as the day before, including some cookies.

Today has been better. I found an old Richard Simmons tape from '86 that is geared towards seniors. I managed to get about 20 minutes in before it started murdering me. Muscles are still tender in my legs. I need to go walking in a bit to loosen up some more and get my steps in.

I have found that I have a huge thing for sweets. This seems to be more prevalent when I try and do better about my eating. Ah, the mind. You're such a cunt. At least I've learned that I CAN back away, that I CAN ignore the cravings. And I didn't even have to bother everyone about it!

I've been doing well in other eating areas. More veggies. More protein. More water. Relearning how to eat without overeating.

As easy as I make this sound, it hasn't been on a mental level. I went to Walgreens yesterday and wanted to buy all the chocolate. I wanted to stop and eat nachos. I wanted Thai iced tea. I wanted to go in the candy store and buy a huge piece of homemade candy. My mind wants everything back the way it was. I am constantly at war with it. The fat girl is demanding to stay, telling me that this isn't going to work. Telling me that I did surgery and that failed and that I'm a failure. Telling me that I should just lie around and not exercise and you know you don't want to anyway and it's not going to help. I need a switch to shut her off. Sometimes she almost succeeds in getting to me.

The vanity part of me is wreaking havoc, too. If I am successful down the line, what will my body look like? I know I'll have loose skin because of the damage that I've done to myself. I know I probably won't have the money to correct it. Then the fat girl voice chimes in with how ugly I'll look, uglier than before, and how at least at this weight I know what I look like.

Being nuts sucks sometimes.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Anxious

I'm not even sure why I'm pounding out a post. Maybe it's because I'm just feeling....well, "not right." It's not any one thing. I just feel depressed and shitty and the stupid anxiety attack that started last night and didn't subside until I popped a Xanax this morning didn't help.

Oh yes. I'm back on Xanax. I went last week and got a prescription because I could. NOT. TAKE. IT. ANYMORE. The feelings of....bad, of death, of worry, of everything going wrong started ramping up again, but only when I traveled. It made for some interesting times when I had to do necessary things, like grocery shopping or doing my mini-job (or actually getting to the doctor to get that prescription, jfc). I was only planning on using it when I traveled, but apparently my brain has decided to shoot those plans in the ass.

I have had an offer of help with a type of therapy, and I'm thinking that I will take the offer in a few more weeks. The person that wants to help me has to deal with some sad things going on in her life at the moment, and I am definitely not going to pounce on her with my stupid issues right now. It's okay. I will be fine until she is ready. I have a pretty good support system going on, which is why I'm just blurting this out right now: because I know people read my shit and can empathize.

I'm not even sure what triggered my attack last night. I mean, I know it doesn't need any one specific thing. It just is. But it sucks, and trying to sleep but jerking awake because you dream you are dead or are approaching death is just bullshit. I've gone through this once before. I don't want it anymore. I want it to stop. I want to be sort of normal.

That's another thing I'm dealing with right now. Depression. I haven't been vigilant in taking my vitamins (the horse pills that help with Seasonal Affective Disorder), so I've been feeling it hard right now. That's a fun fucking combination. Depression and anxiety. So I get to be apathetic about my health, but I can't bring myself to fucking do anything to make me better.

I'm also in a spot right now where I just want to crawl into myself and hide from everyone. Friends, family, the general population. Just bye. My cursor has hovered over the "deactivate" button on Facebook so many times in the past month. I can't though. I feel guilty if I do. I feel like I'm letting people down because I'm not there for them. I already feel like I'm not responding enough, so if I were to just disappear on people that count on me.....well, that would be shit.

Saturday, October 31, 2015

The End.....Of This Month

I did it. I blogged every fucking day of this month, even if some of the entries were not very blog-like. Whatever. I wrote something.

I guess this has proven to me that I cannot be forced to write shit, and that I should actually wait until I have something meaningful to say. Or until I'm going off on someone. Or when I'm just generally crabby and need to get it out. I don't know. Anyways, more frequent blog posts, but not every day. I don't know how professional bloggers do that shit.

Moving on.....

Today was Halloween (duh). We were supposed to go to a party, but my mind was like, "LOL NO, HAVE A THROBBING FUCKING HEADACHE!!!!" Yeah. Dealt with that for most of the day. Manage to shake it off, but was left with the whole nauseous feeling that I suppressed through a trip to Costco and a quick round of trick or treating. It didn't help that the weather was shit and made me feel worse. At least my kid had fun, and he looked fucking awesome (he was Harry Potter).

So now I end this. I'm going to go shower and then chill on the bed and not move for ten or so hours. Or until my back screams at me to get up and do my back exercises. Stupid cat related injury.

Bye for now.

Friday, October 30, 2015

So Much For A Proper Blog

My dog had a seizure today. It was mild, but I'm still out of sorts from having to deal with it and get him to the animal hospital. However, I am happy to report that he is doing well and is expected to be fine. 

But.....

Couple that with some other shit going on today and I am just done. I'm so mentally and physically exhausted, but I must stay awake until 1am so I can let the pup out once more.

Oh god, I need to sleep.