On Facebook and Political Agendas

This is how I feel.

My Version.

Their Version.

Their Version.

 

Which are you?

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Do you usually find yourself being one of the blue pens or the red pen?

If Office Supplies Had Mental Disorders

I get bored easily. That’s about the only explanation for this.20130131-110530.jpg

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20130131-110549.jpgSo, what mental disorders does your stuff have?

We’ve All Felt It.

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Splenda is Your Friend.

I was recently going through some older posts on a blog I just discovered called Sass and Balderdash and her weight loss and how your brain doesn’t ever quite make the switch from fat to thin.

I think I’ve talked about this before, but I honestly can’t remember, and I’m too lazy to look back through all my posts, but I lost around 80 pounds a few years back.

And since then my weight has fluctuated somewhat. I went through a period of about 5 months where I was constantly manic, had no appetite, and didn’t sleep.

I dropped to 130, which, being 5’8…quite tiny.

Then my appetite came back with a vengeance and my body finally said a grand “fuck you” and I slept…a lot. Like, all the time.

My weight shot back up. Too much.

Since then, I’ve maintained a visually healthy weight, though recently my eating habits haven’t been so fantastic. I weeble wobble between 150-160, all the while eyeballing my stomach and thighs with high levels of stress. Want to know a secret?

I am absolutely terrified of gaining the weight back. I have nightmares about binge eating and waking up to find my weight drastically altered.

I remember all too well, maybe a month before I finally said “that’s enough” and started dieting…the day I finally couldn’t fit into pants at regular stores. The first time I looked around and realized…my stores don’t sell my size.

I had items in my closet that I kept, but refused to try on for a good year, because I knew it would force me to acknowledge that I really had gained weight.

I caught myself doing that again a couple months back. A pair of blue jeans, which I plan to go home and stuff my butt right into after work .

It’s not that my weight ballooned. Or that I know they won’t fit. They do…but they’re tight. And for someone who realizes how much longer it takes to remove 80 pounds than it does to gain it….that feeling. That, this feels…different on my body than it did two weeks ago feeling…it’s horrible.

It’s so easy to tip right over that edge, from the “eh I’m a little bloated. No more cookies for me” to the moment where you go to zip up something that fit just fine a month ago, but doesn’t now.

So, I joined a gym. And I’m watching what I eat more closely.

I’m doing great at the exercising bit, especially. 4 times a week from 1-2 hours. I haven’t tried on those jeans yet. Honestly, I have no idea what I weigh right now. My scale’s batteries died and I’m just sorta terrified to find out.  I know my body shape has changed drastically from the exercise, so surely I will be pleased,but lord knows what the actual numbers are. And in some ways it sort of doesn’t matter because…

I never think I look ok.

I always grab sizes that are too big for me.

Sometimes I see pictures of myself and am honest to god shocked that I look the way I do.

My brain has been permanently warped to see myself with a hugely critical eye.

Not only that, but I gotta say it…

Nothing makes you hate other people so much as trying to eat healthy.

I’m serious. I’ve talked about the woman at work who constantly pokes at me for eating salads at lunch, or just a baked potato, or cup of chili. It’s not just her, though.

If people ask me to go out and eat, I feel awkward saying I can’t. That I’m trying to watch my weight. I get glared at, accused of making excuses. People outright scoff.

People talk about the judgement when a fat person sits there eating cake. Try being a skinny person and eating salad.

I mean…it really is a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation.  One way you’re being judged for making unhealthy choices, the other…shit, it’s like people see you eating healthy as an attempt to rub it in their faces that you’re thin.

Note to morons…maybe I’m thin because…I…eat salad??? And no, I don’t mean the kind of salad that has 1/2 pound of ham on it, cheese, croutons, and three packets of dressing. That doesn’t work either. It takes maintenance, people. You don’t become thin and then suddenly get to eat cake every day at lunch. That’s not how it works. You eat that cake and you won’t be thin anymore.

And then there’s the people that have never had a weight problem, and are just so SURE that you can eat out with them JUST THIS ONCE, because  ONCE won’t hurt.

Except that it’s not once. If I eat out with you that ONCE then I’m depriving myself of the day where I get to pick what I want…and that almost never works. Which means I’ll eat badly twice.

And it’s the “just this once” attitude that really fucks you up. Because it’s never just that once. You tell yourself that, and then at the end of the week you realize you’ve snacked all week. That you ate out three times and had 3 bags of chips and two cokes. None of which you accounted for. Because each time, for each food, you thought “just this once.”

Then there’s the people that are down right pissed at you because, some how, your decision to try and be healthy translates to judgement upon them for not doing the same thing. People have trouble sitting there eating pizza and cinna-pie while you eat a small turkey sandwich and baked chips. It makes them feel guilty.

The people who you really honestly want to tell you no, but who love you and so all they want to do is say yes and give you what you want when you kinda sorta ask if they want taco bell because….tacos, man. TACOS.

There are very few people who will actually look at you and be like…you shouldn’t eat that. You’re supposed to be dieting.

Because most people…even if they say they want that. They don’t.

They get pissed and hurt and angry and BOOM you’re the bad guy.

So everyone, even if they want to help you, are terrified to open their mouths when they see you struggling to decide between the french fries or fresh fruit.

I don’t even know how to end this post. Seriously. I’ve been watching my weight and my food intake for …crap, 3 or 4 years now? I have about five bajillion things I could say about the experience. And a lot of it ain’t pretty.

1. You will be hungry. Sorry. This is partially because, once obese, you damage your metabolism enough that you will never be able to eat the same amount of calories that an “always skinny” person can, and not gain weight. It’s scientifically accurate. Not only that, but the power of the mind is a scary son of a bitch and once your brain is trained to see a GIANT full plate of pasta as a meal, it will never allow you to be satisfied with a portion half that size.

2. Less than half, if we’re being honest.

3. It’s expensive, damnit. You kind of have two choices if you’re going the counting calories route. Eat unhealthy food…but eat very very little. Or, you know, not starve yourself. This means buying fresh fruits, vegetables, lean beef, diet drinks/snacks, lotsa mother fucking chicken and fish (not fried, because that would taste too good). And that stuff is immensely more expensive than a bag of Cheetos, Ramen, and Hot Pockets.

4. Yeah, you will always feel fat. You’ll, logically, know you’re not…but that doesn’t really help. Prepare to be surprised when you see full-body pictures of yourself and you’re actually smaller than the people beside you.

5. People…people suck. People suck fungus, toe jammy, athlete’s foot 90% of the time. They’re either tempting you, judging you, or guilting you. If you find someone that honest to god pushes you to succeed and finds happiness in your success, CLING TO THAT BITCH. They are valuable, damnit.

But guess what? There’s another side to this list.

6. You will feel so ungodly proud of yourself each week when you’ve lost/maintained your weight. It will make you do a damn jig.

7. Things that used to ache, don’t ache any more. You don’t realize how much strain you’re putting on your joints and muscles until that strain is gone. You’ll have more energy and your mood will stabilize.

8. Yes, you will always mentally feel a little unsure of yourself, but God Damn does it feel good the first time you walk into a normal mall store and can find a million things in your size.

9. Food will taste better. No…I’m totally serious. See, when you have something every damn day, you get bored of it. Your body and taste buds get used to it. If you’re really good with your diet, and you have a splurge day…prepare for a heavenly feast.

P.S.

10. Splenda is your motherfucking friend.

 

 

 

 

Ghost Sounds

No, no. I don’t mean like “Boo!” or “OOOOoooOOOoOooO” or whatever other cliche sound you think paranormal figures create to scare the shite out of us in the middle of the night.

I mean, that crazy thing that my head does to me, to make me feel like I need to rip my ears off and run screaming into a sensory deprivation tank.

Now, I’m not sure if anyone else does this. I’m sure a few of you do, but I dare to doubt that many of you do this to quite the same extent I do.

Ghost sounds…this is what I call it when a simple sound, usually high pitched or repetitive, continues inside my head after the actual sound has ceased to exist. It’s like a part of that sound continues to live on, even though it’s reality is no more.

And it drives me absolutely insane.

I don’t necessarily mean that figuratively, either. I once stuffed my ears with ear plugs, covered my head with the pillow and blanket, then actively counted inside my head to try and drown the sound out. It didn’t work, and eventually I ended up sobbing pathetically into my mattress because it was 4am, and not only was I not sure that the sound was going to stop, but I had to get up at 7am for work.

Generally speaking, the more I try to ignore it, the louder it gets, too. Which, try not not ignoring a loud screeching sound when you’re absolutely exhausted.

I bring this up because there are a few specific things that like to trigger my ghost sounds.

Alarms that beep instead of wailing

When the fan gets rusty and starts to make weird whirring noises

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MOTHERFUCKING TORNADO SIRENS.

Which, being in the Louisville area, meant that I was driven absolutely nuts last night. Tornado sirens going off from 3-4:30am.

The worse thing is when you aren’t entirely sure if it’s real or imagined. I realized eventually that no siren was actually going off because, not only had all signs of the storm passed, but my husband looked at me like I was bonkers when I complained about the noise…which he, of course, was not hearing.

The worst thing, is when you are comfortable in the belief that the annoying sound you hear is real and can be stopped, only to get up and turn the fan off…and still hear the fucking whirring.

I’m just wondering.

Does this shit happen to any of you??? And if so, have any of you figured out a way to make it stop?

You Carry It Where?

So,

I step on the elevator and over hear this one-sided conversation.

Girl on phone: “No no no, you’re supposed to carry it between your legs.

Yeah…and when it goes in the toilet it, like, changes the color of the water.

Well, it should change the color.

Maybe you’re not doing it right.

Between your legs, yeah.”

Ok, so, what in The Fuck was the person on the other line saying? I don’t think I’ve ever carried anything between my legs…and certainly not anything that had magical water changing properties???

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