Still alive, but sick.
I have had zero energy for days on end, I had my evil attack of PMS on Saturday (blessings to all of you for putting up with that), and today I've been sick to my stomach all day and still lethargic. I have an excuse for today's lethargy, at least; I couldn't sleep for half the night and slept fitfully for what was left.
I may currently be hungry. I'm not trusting my stomach very much at all. In between hunger rumblings, it still feels sick.
Mostly I'm just wallowing in a pit of despair. (Warning: high whine content ahead.) I may have managed to injure myself with the new yoga DVDs (as my Hub put it this morning, "It's not that you don't try to go easy on yourself, I think you just don't know how"), and it's no fun to have DOMS cycling over my body all the damn time, and even when I try so hard to get extra sleep I'm still so tired all the time, so very, very tired.
I'm recognizing this mode of depression from back when I hit the "fucking hell, I have to do this FOREVER" transition period. I think part of it may be discovering, and being deeply disappointed with, my limitations. I'm not strong. I'm not fast. I'm not flexible (and in whole ways I didn't even know EXISTED until this week! how fun!). I'm scared to death that nothing's ever going to improve and I'm going to suck AND be sore and exhausted all the time for the rest of my life. I hate it.
I'm retaining water on top of the nasty gain from this last week, so my clothes aren't fitting quite right and when I look in the mirror, I seem to look wrong. I feel fat. Which, added to the fitness despair, means that I'm fighting off a further round of panic along the lines of "oh fuck, if this happened even with all the extra exercise, I'm doomed, I'm never going to lose weight again, it's all going to come back, it'll be like Flowers for Algernon." Hell, hell, hell.
And what pops up when emotional disturbance rules my life? Why yes, my stupid eating disorder. The WWE ought to be put me on the payroll for the amount of wrestling I've been doing with this thing. Cue another round of panic: "I'm never going to get over this, I'm never going to improve, I can't win, I'm doomed to be this way forever and I hate it SO MUCH."
To add to the fun, now that summer has hit (apparently our endless springtime temperatures from last year mean that we used up our quota for this year; in one week we've catapulted from "late winter/early spring" directly into summertime temps), I find myself surrounded with dainty little skinny girls wearing dainty little clothing. I want to beat them to death with a pipe. Every one. I am just so angry that they exist, that they can be that way without having to earn it-- and worse, that no matter what I do to earn it, I can't look like that. I can't even come close.
I would do better if I had some kind of energy. I'm just so dead all the time. Maybe I should go to the doctor over this. There just doesn't seem to be any rational reason for this. I've done everything I'm supposed to; by my calculations a big weight loss, healthy diet, and regular exercise should have me BURSTING with energy. Instead I'm just scraping together enough to get by, day after day.
Sigh. Wow, I must be a joy to read today. Sorry, folks; right now I'm trying to be proud that I got up and exercised and made it to work, because all I really want to do is stay in bed and not think or move.
I may currently be hungry. I'm not trusting my stomach very much at all. In between hunger rumblings, it still feels sick.
Mostly I'm just wallowing in a pit of despair. (Warning: high whine content ahead.) I may have managed to injure myself with the new yoga DVDs (as my Hub put it this morning, "It's not that you don't try to go easy on yourself, I think you just don't know how"), and it's no fun to have DOMS cycling over my body all the damn time, and even when I try so hard to get extra sleep I'm still so tired all the time, so very, very tired.
I'm recognizing this mode of depression from back when I hit the "fucking hell, I have to do this FOREVER" transition period. I think part of it may be discovering, and being deeply disappointed with, my limitations. I'm not strong. I'm not fast. I'm not flexible (and in whole ways I didn't even know EXISTED until this week! how fun!). I'm scared to death that nothing's ever going to improve and I'm going to suck AND be sore and exhausted all the time for the rest of my life. I hate it.
I'm retaining water on top of the nasty gain from this last week, so my clothes aren't fitting quite right and when I look in the mirror, I seem to look wrong. I feel fat. Which, added to the fitness despair, means that I'm fighting off a further round of panic along the lines of "oh fuck, if this happened even with all the extra exercise, I'm doomed, I'm never going to lose weight again, it's all going to come back, it'll be like Flowers for Algernon." Hell, hell, hell.
And what pops up when emotional disturbance rules my life? Why yes, my stupid eating disorder. The WWE ought to be put me on the payroll for the amount of wrestling I've been doing with this thing. Cue another round of panic: "I'm never going to get over this, I'm never going to improve, I can't win, I'm doomed to be this way forever and I hate it SO MUCH."
To add to the fun, now that summer has hit (apparently our endless springtime temperatures from last year mean that we used up our quota for this year; in one week we've catapulted from "late winter/early spring" directly into summertime temps), I find myself surrounded with dainty little skinny girls wearing dainty little clothing. I want to beat them to death with a pipe. Every one. I am just so angry that they exist, that they can be that way without having to earn it-- and worse, that no matter what I do to earn it, I can't look like that. I can't even come close.
I would do better if I had some kind of energy. I'm just so dead all the time. Maybe I should go to the doctor over this. There just doesn't seem to be any rational reason for this. I've done everything I'm supposed to; by my calculations a big weight loss, healthy diet, and regular exercise should have me BURSTING with energy. Instead I'm just scraping together enough to get by, day after day.
Sigh. Wow, I must be a joy to read today. Sorry, folks; right now I'm trying to be proud that I got up and exercised and made it to work, because all I really want to do is stay in bed and not think or move.
posted by Meg at
10:59 AM
3 Comments:
I wish I knew the right thing to say here to make you feel better (not least because you always seem to know the right thing to say) but I'll have to settle for just sending you my sympathy and hugs...
...and a gentle reminder that you have acheived something amazing that huge portions of the population find utterly impossible or at least far too difficult. Not only that, but you write about it in a way that inspires so many other people. I love your blog, and, in the two weeks (or whatever) since I started reading it, I feel like I've learned so much from you.
On a possibly constructive (or maybe just annoying) note, when I was feeling this way, it helped me to ease up a little on the exercise. I didn't stop, I just lowered the intensity--which not only helped my body rest, but gave me a mental break from pushing so hard.
Maybe you should step back for a week, and go back to the familiar yoga tape, just to remind yourself that exercise can feel good.
At least you're getting some chocolate. :)
By
Noames, at 1:02 PM
I must say, you're always quite a joy to read. Hope you feel better!
By
Anonymous, at 9:57 PM
Go to the Dr and get your blood tests done!! Things like iron deficiency or thyroid malfunction can make you feel depressed and unbelievably weary all the time and make it v. hard to control your weight (been there, done that, fixed it with an iron supplement).
As far as the 'never looking like the hot chickybabes'goes, I'm not sure how old you are but I bet I'm older than you (I'm 38, but don't tell anyone). For me, the hardest thing to get my head around is that I won't ever look like these girls, not because i'm heavier (although I still am a bit) but because I'm not young any more. Could there be grief for your 'lost/wasted youth' in your reaction?
Anyway, take care and keep at it. You know you 'are that girl'
LBTEPA
By
Anonymous, at 1:27 AM
Post a Comment
<< Home