I've always said that I like going to my weekly meetings because I can identify with what everyone in the room is going through, and that sense of community and shared experience makes a huge difference in how I get through this process. It's 100% true, and I miss those people dearly, but there's another part of identification that is heartbreaking and hard to watch.
Some of my closest friends are fighting this fight as well, and despite the laughter and self-deprecating humour that we all employ, it kills me to hear the frustration and see the tears when it comes time to really talk about the fact that we're not happy with ourselves and our physical appearances. The fatigue from physical strain, the clothes that don't fit, the waning confidence, all of it. At the time in our lives when we should be happiest, we are unhappy with ourselves.
Knowing what I go through, and what I had done to myself through years of self-neglect, is one thing. But seeing these women struggle and not be comfortable in their own beautiful skin kills me because I know there's no magic word or secret handshake that I can give them to alleviate their suffering.
It's an uphill battle that everyone, to a degree, fights alone. We make the food choices, we make the exercise choices, we call the shots. And the hardest thing to admit is that we're ignoring ourselves for the sake of others, even though it sounds like the right thing to do. I did it for a long time, because I didn't feel that I deserved that kind of dedication to myself. I should be working, I should be doing this, I should be doing that instead. I let myself get like this, did this to myself, how dare I be so selfish in trying to fix it?
The day to day lives of my friends are very different from mine. Different demands on their time and attention, different careers, different circumstances. But aside from rock solid friendships, we're bound by the desire to change and save ourselves, inside and out, whatever the motivation. The spark is in all of them, and I know that each and every one of them will absolutely succeed in making their changes when the time is right for them.
Some of them read this blog, and I want to remind them that they're not alone, and that they're beautiful and successful women through and through. I know so much of what you go through physically and emotionally, and even though I hate that you have to experience some of the same negative shit that I've had to slog through, I am glad I can be here to listen and truly understand.
Whatever path any of you choose, I will support you 100% of the way, because you've done just that for me. I fight this daily battle alone, but the support I get from my friends and family is a huge factor in my success thus far.
If I can offer one piece of advice, it is this: When you decide to make a change, however small, get excited about it. Don't think of it as a task, think of it as an adventure. Even if it's something that you've tried before and it wasn't successful. Get excited about it as if it's a new experience, because really, it is. Make it fun for yourself, not something that warrants an eye roll, a curse word or a feeling of dread. It's a positive change, keep it positive at every level.
In a week or two I'll be back in action and back at my weekly meeting. I can't wait. I've missed it so goddamn much. I have a renewed mental picture of myself going forward down the line, and I'm EXCITED. I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything, but I'll gladly share it with anyone who asks.
XO
LB
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
In which I reach my breaking point.
Tonight is garbage night.
My landlord has been putting my garbage out on the curb for me due to my current situation of being mobility-limited.
Not so, tonight.
For some reason they put their garbage out (they live next door), and put something at the end of my driveway, but my two bags of garbage and my recycling were still in here with me. 9:30 p.m. rolled around and it's now dark out.
Yay. I get to take my awkward garbage bags out myself. In the dark. On crutches. On my gravel driveway. Super.
It went something like this: get my lame ass down the stairs on my ass, toting the nasty garbage and throw it out the door into the driveway. Then proceed to throw each bag as far as possible, and catch up to them on my crutches. Lather, rinse, repeat. It wasn't quite humiliating enough, but luckily some strangers walked by and insisted on carrying the nasty garbage the rest of the way to the curb.
I appreciate their good samaratanism, but it was fucking humiliating. I felt so goddamn pathetic at that point, I almost started crying on my way back into the house. I am frustrated with this shit. My dependency on others is driving me INSANE.
I am sick of these fucking crutches, the walker and the wheelchair. I am sick of having to concoct ridiculous schemes to get everyday chores done. I am sick of having a foot I can't put any weight on. I am sick of THIS WHOLE SCENARIO.
Honestly, I just want to scream.
xo
lb
My landlord has been putting my garbage out on the curb for me due to my current situation of being mobility-limited.
Not so, tonight.
For some reason they put their garbage out (they live next door), and put something at the end of my driveway, but my two bags of garbage and my recycling were still in here with me. 9:30 p.m. rolled around and it's now dark out.
Yay. I get to take my awkward garbage bags out myself. In the dark. On crutches. On my gravel driveway. Super.
It went something like this: get my lame ass down the stairs on my ass, toting the nasty garbage and throw it out the door into the driveway. Then proceed to throw each bag as far as possible, and catch up to them on my crutches. Lather, rinse, repeat. It wasn't quite humiliating enough, but luckily some strangers walked by and insisted on carrying the nasty garbage the rest of the way to the curb.
I appreciate their good samaratanism, but it was fucking humiliating. I felt so goddamn pathetic at that point, I almost started crying on my way back into the house. I am frustrated with this shit. My dependency on others is driving me INSANE.
I am sick of these fucking crutches, the walker and the wheelchair. I am sick of having to concoct ridiculous schemes to get everyday chores done. I am sick of having a foot I can't put any weight on. I am sick of THIS WHOLE SCENARIO.
Honestly, I just want to scream.
xo
lb
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Tubby Tub
I started the day feeling like a total tub, but another journey to the centre of the basement helped lift that stupid mood a bit. Because, dudes, that is a process and a half. This time, I was toting the shitter litter box down to get scrubbed out because Team Goombah was starting to stink out the joint.
These are the culprits, clearly drunk:
It's quite a production getting anything physical accomplished when it's all being done on 1 foot and with some sort of assisting device (today's tool is: crutches!). Add to the fact that my basement has a super low ceiling and ducts running everywhere, and it's all comedy. Banging of heads, spider freakouts, exasperated sighs. Why there isn't a camera crew following me, I'll never know.
Calamity aside, my forays into more physical activity are definitely helping to lift my depression. The end of this part of my recovery is in sight, and I'm getting closer to being back in my normal routine of lard ditching and weight loss focus. With each new task (not that there have been too many), I feel like I'm helping my lazy ass out a little, and that will help when I'm able to kick this back into high gear later on.
Of course, all of this activity talk aside, I plan on planting my butt on the couch and knitting after I make some lunch. Whatevs, at least I'm honest.
xo
lb
These are the culprits, clearly drunk:
It's quite a production getting anything physical accomplished when it's all being done on 1 foot and with some sort of assisting device (today's tool is: crutches!). Add to the fact that my basement has a super low ceiling and ducts running everywhere, and it's all comedy. Banging of heads, spider freakouts, exasperated sighs. Why there isn't a camera crew following me, I'll never know.
Calamity aside, my forays into more physical activity are definitely helping to lift my depression. The end of this part of my recovery is in sight, and I'm getting closer to being back in my normal routine of lard ditching and weight loss focus. With each new task (not that there have been too many), I feel like I'm helping my lazy ass out a little, and that will help when I'm able to kick this back into high gear later on.
Of course, all of this activity talk aside, I plan on planting my butt on the couch and knitting after I make some lunch. Whatevs, at least I'm honest.
xo
lb
Monday, July 19, 2010
The old new normal.
I've been sitting for almost three months. Not an exaggeration by any stretch of the imagination. The last time I took any normal steps was May 10th. Since then, life has been conducted from my wheelchair and my couch.
I don't like this temporary norm. I am dying to get back to the old new normal of self-transformation. I want to go back to writing about my weight loss victories and process. I want to go back to my talk of the war measures act and the insanity of going to the gym at 6:00 a.m. I want to get this show back on the road.
Bear with me, weight loss peeps (that's why a lot of you are reading, I know). I'll be back to my routine soon. I'll be back to kicking out the lard ditching jams and rambling on about it, swearing about it, come what may.
I've impressed myself already, actually. Three months off the official wagon would do some people in, it would be so easy to throw in the towel. My brain remains rewired, and the master plan has stayed in the back of my head the whole time.
Just gotta get through to August, back to the old new normal.
xo
lb
I don't like this temporary norm. I am dying to get back to the old new normal of self-transformation. I want to go back to writing about my weight loss victories and process. I want to go back to my talk of the war measures act and the insanity of going to the gym at 6:00 a.m. I want to get this show back on the road.
Bear with me, weight loss peeps (that's why a lot of you are reading, I know). I'll be back to my routine soon. I'll be back to kicking out the lard ditching jams and rambling on about it, swearing about it, come what may.
I've impressed myself already, actually. Three months off the official wagon would do some people in, it would be so easy to throw in the towel. My brain remains rewired, and the master plan has stayed in the back of my head the whole time.
Just gotta get through to August, back to the old new normal.
xo
lb
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Journey to the Centre of the Basement
It had to be done. For more than one reason, it had to be done.
The sister that has been handling my laundry while I've been on lockdown hasn't been able to make it over for a couple of weeks, and the pile of laundry has been getting bigger. Mind you, couple the humid heat with the fact that I spend most days completely on my own and it results in my lounging around in my skivvies most days.
However, laundry needed to be done. And I needed to accomplish something.
The whole "screeching halt" of this recovery has been very difficult to deal with. I have a lot of trouble asking people for help. It's a pride and independence thing. I constantly feel like I'm imposing on people even if they offered in the first place. This whole process has done nothing to cure me of that problem, and if anything, it has made it worse.
Yesterday, I decided it was time to get my ass in gear. And I mean that quite literally. I packed up the laundry bag, the phone (I'm stupid, but I'm no moron. I don't want to wind up sprawled out on the floor until someone finds me), I corralled the cats so that they were not able to escape the apartment, and I headed towards the stairs.
Yup, I bummed my way down two flights of stairs toting my laundry and my walker, and despite the grossness of the spiders I encountered, I made it. I chilled out in an old lawn chair while the wash was in and that was that. Then, I had to crawl up the spidery stairs again and got back to my apartment. Let me tell you, as sad as it sounds, I was exhausted.
Beyond the dirt, the spiders and the sweatiness, it was worth it. I gained back a little bit of my independence and got some clean gitch out of it. Not bad for a day's work. AND I get to do it all again to get it all out of the dryer this afternoon. Oh god, the excitement of it all.
In a few weeks, this recovery will move on to the next stage: back to the life more ordinary. Back to work, back to WW, into physio. Not a minute too soon, either. I need to take back control of my life.
xo
lb
The sister that has been handling my laundry while I've been on lockdown hasn't been able to make it over for a couple of weeks, and the pile of laundry has been getting bigger. Mind you, couple the humid heat with the fact that I spend most days completely on my own and it results in my lounging around in my skivvies most days.
However, laundry needed to be done. And I needed to accomplish something.
The whole "screeching halt" of this recovery has been very difficult to deal with. I have a lot of trouble asking people for help. It's a pride and independence thing. I constantly feel like I'm imposing on people even if they offered in the first place. This whole process has done nothing to cure me of that problem, and if anything, it has made it worse.
Yesterday, I decided it was time to get my ass in gear. And I mean that quite literally. I packed up the laundry bag, the phone (I'm stupid, but I'm no moron. I don't want to wind up sprawled out on the floor until someone finds me), I corralled the cats so that they were not able to escape the apartment, and I headed towards the stairs.
Yup, I bummed my way down two flights of stairs toting my laundry and my walker, and despite the grossness of the spiders I encountered, I made it. I chilled out in an old lawn chair while the wash was in and that was that. Then, I had to crawl up the spidery stairs again and got back to my apartment. Let me tell you, as sad as it sounds, I was exhausted.
Beyond the dirt, the spiders and the sweatiness, it was worth it. I gained back a little bit of my independence and got some clean gitch out of it. Not bad for a day's work. AND I get to do it all again to get it all out of the dryer this afternoon. Oh god, the excitement of it all.
In a few weeks, this recovery will move on to the next stage: back to the life more ordinary. Back to work, back to WW, into physio. Not a minute too soon, either. I need to take back control of my life.
xo
lb
Friday, July 9, 2010
Jabba don't knit.
Do you have any idea how much I wish knitting counted as cardio, or some kind of conditioning? Like, shit. I'd be able to bounce quarters off of any body part at any given time if that were the case. And I sure as hell wouldn't feel so much like Jabba the Hut these days.
With every day that drags by around here, more and more I'm dying to get moving again and re-launch the great assault on the lard. I miss being in the pool for Deep Water Aquafit and busting out a sweat on some scary piece of equipment. There's so much I want to achieve, and I am feeling so stuck here right now while I want for my ankle to fuse properly.
Last night, I couldn't sleep. That's nothing shocking since it seems to be how things are now. I got to thinking about what I want to achieve once I can walk and do stuff again. I'm still super sad that I didn't get to put my skates to good enough use before I had deal with my self-destructing ankle. I read some research about post-ankle fusion activity and apparently skating (ice or roller) is still do-able after the ankle has been fused, which fills my heart with nervous joy because being a ref is something I still want to do so fucking badly. I don't know if I'll be able to, because every ankle fusion is different, but the study did make me hold on to whatever hope I had left for it.
Gah. I have to stop thinking about it for now, it's making me dislike the current state of things even more.
In the food department: everything rules. Good choices, good food. Lots of cooking effort despite the melty heat. It's raining here today which has taken the edge off. Good times, good times.
Peace oot,
xo
lb
PS: Oh yes! Be sure to take a wander over to Hot Across Buns! My pal Steff and her partner in crime are serving up some serious sass with their Ass-o-gram Derby Gitch and shirts! Hell, I'm ditching as much lard as possible so I can properly express my feelings...with my butt! Their stuff is super fun, and definitely worth a gander!
With every day that drags by around here, more and more I'm dying to get moving again and re-launch the great assault on the lard. I miss being in the pool for Deep Water Aquafit and busting out a sweat on some scary piece of equipment. There's so much I want to achieve, and I am feeling so stuck here right now while I want for my ankle to fuse properly.
Last night, I couldn't sleep. That's nothing shocking since it seems to be how things are now. I got to thinking about what I want to achieve once I can walk and do stuff again. I'm still super sad that I didn't get to put my skates to good enough use before I had deal with my self-destructing ankle. I read some research about post-ankle fusion activity and apparently skating (ice or roller) is still do-able after the ankle has been fused, which fills my heart with nervous joy because being a ref is something I still want to do so fucking badly. I don't know if I'll be able to, because every ankle fusion is different, but the study did make me hold on to whatever hope I had left for it.
Gah. I have to stop thinking about it for now, it's making me dislike the current state of things even more.
In the food department: everything rules. Good choices, good food. Lots of cooking effort despite the melty heat. It's raining here today which has taken the edge off. Good times, good times.
Peace oot,
xo
lb
PS: Oh yes! Be sure to take a wander over to Hot Across Buns! My pal Steff and her partner in crime are serving up some serious sass with their Ass-o-gram Derby Gitch and shirts! Hell, I'm ditching as much lard as possible so I can properly express my feelings...with my butt! Their stuff is super fun, and definitely worth a gander!
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Hot child in the city.
The heat continues here in London-town, hot hot hot. Things are alright here in the Fortress of Solitude, very much the same as every single day of the past couple of months. I wake, I knit, I heal, I sleep.
Last night I busted out of the confines and sat on the porch. Hot as blazes, but I still managed to get a sock done in a couple of hours. My pal and tattoo artist Anthony stopped by to pick up my concept sketch for the new piece we're starting in August, thanks to the gift certificate my awesome and amazing graphic design pals gave me for my birthday in May. Lots of colour, lots of fun, I can't wait to get it started.
Food wise it's just been more of the same, except that I ate some kick ass points destroying pizza last night. Nothing to hide, here. And let me tell you, it was goddamn DELICIOUS. Back to the norm again today, though. A big pan of roasted veggies for supper tonight, despite the heat. Brussel sprouts, carrots, onion, sweet potato. YUM.
Back to the needles to finish sock pair #30. I honestly do not know what I would have done without the project I'm working on while I recover. I'm having problems with depression at the moment because of being house bound and mobility limited. I shudder to think about how I'd be feeling if I didn't have a productive task to fill my days, because this feels shitty enough.
Pass me that yarn, it's time to get back down to business.
xo
lb
Last night I busted out of the confines and sat on the porch. Hot as blazes, but I still managed to get a sock done in a couple of hours. My pal and tattoo artist Anthony stopped by to pick up my concept sketch for the new piece we're starting in August, thanks to the gift certificate my awesome and amazing graphic design pals gave me for my birthday in May. Lots of colour, lots of fun, I can't wait to get it started.
Food wise it's just been more of the same, except that I ate some kick ass points destroying pizza last night. Nothing to hide, here. And let me tell you, it was goddamn DELICIOUS. Back to the norm again today, though. A big pan of roasted veggies for supper tonight, despite the heat. Brussel sprouts, carrots, onion, sweet potato. YUM.
Back to the needles to finish sock pair #30. I honestly do not know what I would have done without the project I'm working on while I recover. I'm having problems with depression at the moment because of being house bound and mobility limited. I shudder to think about how I'd be feeling if I didn't have a productive task to fill my days, because this feels shitty enough.
Pass me that yarn, it's time to get back down to business.
xo
lb
Monday, July 5, 2010
Ain't no thang.
Saturday was a much needed tune up for me, and my concerns about screwing my brain over seem to be, so far, fading away. My focus remains on the two big tasks at hand: letting my ankle heal as it needs to heal, and keeping my food on the right path in order to ditch this lard.
That taste or normalcy, seeing both familiar and new faces, feeling the community lifted my spirits and really got my head back in the game. Next month I will get back to my regular life (with some limitation, true), and get back to functioning in the outside world. With my regained focus I know I won't be overwhelmed or panicked, I'll be cool like Fonzie. I just have to learn how to walk again (for the third time, actually), no biggie.
It's hot as shit around here, Southern Ontario really kicks ass when it comes to hot and humid summers. I was up at 2 this morning and the humidex was still over 30 degrees. Right now, it's registering at a lung-punching 40 degrees (that's 104 degrees for you american readers).
I'm hibernating in the air conditioned fortress of solitude, but still (crazily enough) considering going outside to knit. I'm sure I'll come to my senses soon enough.
Peace out,
LB
That taste or normalcy, seeing both familiar and new faces, feeling the community lifted my spirits and really got my head back in the game. Next month I will get back to my regular life (with some limitation, true), and get back to functioning in the outside world. With my regained focus I know I won't be overwhelmed or panicked, I'll be cool like Fonzie. I just have to learn how to walk again (for the third time, actually), no biggie.
It's hot as shit around here, Southern Ontario really kicks ass when it comes to hot and humid summers. I was up at 2 this morning and the humidex was still over 30 degrees. Right now, it's registering at a lung-punching 40 degrees (that's 104 degrees for you american readers).
I'm hibernating in the air conditioned fortress of solitude, but still (crazily enough) considering going outside to knit. I'm sure I'll come to my senses soon enough.
Peace out,
LB
Saturday, July 3, 2010
The second thought, the back to the first.
It occurred to me last night, what if going to my meeting today makes the next 5+ weeks even more difficult mentally? Should I have just gone for the burn and stayed away until I could go back every week?
The question sounds silly, yes, but I do wonder if I'm screwing my brain here. Saturdays without my normal and needed ritual have totally sucked, will I make it worse by going today when I know I can't go back until at least a month from now?
It doesn't matter, because I'm still going. I need to see the people, I need to hear them talk. I just need some of the good normalcy back. I need to get out of here for a little while.
I did manage to get on the scale the other night, but I doubt the number it showed me was accurate since it was me standing on one foot, but if it's true, I'm at the 39lb mark right now. That shows a 6 lb loss while I've been home. I'll keep that in my brain for now, until they can tell me something more accurate.
Off I go, to where I need to be today. I need it more than ever.
xo
lb
The question sounds silly, yes, but I do wonder if I'm screwing my brain here. Saturdays without my normal and needed ritual have totally sucked, will I make it worse by going today when I know I can't go back until at least a month from now?
It doesn't matter, because I'm still going. I need to see the people, I need to hear them talk. I just need some of the good normalcy back. I need to get out of here for a little while.
I did manage to get on the scale the other night, but I doubt the number it showed me was accurate since it was me standing on one foot, but if it's true, I'm at the 39lb mark right now. That shows a 6 lb loss while I've been home. I'll keep that in my brain for now, until they can tell me something more accurate.
Off I go, to where I need to be today. I need it more than ever.
xo
lb
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Unearthed.
I managed to dig out two very important components of this ongoing battle. Two items that have been heavily neglected while I've been off the books and off the radar. And believe me, in my current condition, digging any kind of shit out of anywhere is a challenge.
Today saw the resurrection of all my Weight Watchers print materials and my water bottle. I would say that, besides my tracker, these who things are the things that keep me on the wagon. And honestly, shame on me for neglecting them.
Drinking water is easy. Right? Sure. But I haven't been doing it. When talking about it with my sister Norah, we agreed that water drinkage is the the easiest thing in the world when you're at work because it's a matter of: "I'm so fucking bored, what can I do...oh yeah, go get some water!" but being a home, especially now that my mobility is a drag, is a completely different story.
I sit. All day. Really, hours go by before I realize that either I haven't moved, or that I've moved and forgotten to get something to drink. By the time I clue in, I don't feel like hoisting myself back into the wheels of steel to get myself a drink. I don't think to fill up any sort of water bottle to carry around with me. Goddamn ridiculous.
So, welcome back, water bottle.
The other essential element that is back from the depths of storage is the printed materials. For everyone who isn't involved with WW, for the first 10 weeks you get a new booklet covering the different aspects of losing weight through WW, mental attitudes, activity etc. They're amazing and I regret letting go of them for this long. I can't wait to sit down and go through them again to really get my head back into this game (albeit from the sidelines).
Regaining my focus is starting to help with the depression that has set in. I'm still climbing the walls and feeling low, but getting back on track with this process is helping. Saturday will go a long way too.
I'm off to load up on water and get to readin' stuff.
peace oot
LB
Today saw the resurrection of all my Weight Watchers print materials and my water bottle. I would say that, besides my tracker, these who things are the things that keep me on the wagon. And honestly, shame on me for neglecting them.
Drinking water is easy. Right? Sure. But I haven't been doing it. When talking about it with my sister Norah, we agreed that water drinkage is the the easiest thing in the world when you're at work because it's a matter of: "I'm so fucking bored, what can I do...oh yeah, go get some water!" but being a home, especially now that my mobility is a drag, is a completely different story.
I sit. All day. Really, hours go by before I realize that either I haven't moved, or that I've moved and forgotten to get something to drink. By the time I clue in, I don't feel like hoisting myself back into the wheels of steel to get myself a drink. I don't think to fill up any sort of water bottle to carry around with me. Goddamn ridiculous.
So, welcome back, water bottle.
The other essential element that is back from the depths of storage is the printed materials. For everyone who isn't involved with WW, for the first 10 weeks you get a new booklet covering the different aspects of losing weight through WW, mental attitudes, activity etc. They're amazing and I regret letting go of them for this long. I can't wait to sit down and go through them again to really get my head back into this game (albeit from the sidelines).
Regaining my focus is starting to help with the depression that has set in. I'm still climbing the walls and feeling low, but getting back on track with this process is helping. Saturday will go a long way too.
I'm off to load up on water and get to readin' stuff.
peace oot
LB
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