I need a makeover

I don't know what is WRONG with me.  I fix a problem for someone at work and I have to hold back tears because of feeling good and knowing that I made their day better. I watch the Biggest Loser and I cry.  I tell a sweet story about someone and surprise! I tear up.  I watch a video or a commercial that's touching and freaking bloody surprise!!! I cry like a baby. Every single couple I see I feel like punching in the stomach with my green fist filled with envy.  On the flip side, I see a good looking guy, or a tall guy around my age who isn't wearing a wedding ring and my thoughts in this order are: "Oooh, no ring. How YOU doin'?  Who are you kidding, you're fat he'd never go for you. Moving right along... Stop self, don't tear up, C'MON!!!"  It's almost as if my brain is shouting out "I'm not happy, so you shouldn't be either!!!!!!!!" I'm just so worn out all of the time. 

I watch the Biggest Loser every week and I love the show so much.  I watch Jillian Michaels, Bob Harper and Dolvett Quince train their contestants and I am filled with envy. I want that experience so badly.  I have so far to go: 100-130 pounds until I get to a satisfactory weight.  I haven't seen the dastardly 'one-derland' since I was 14 years old, if not younger.  The thought of it terrifies me, I've spent more than half of my life this way, all of my adulthood. Who would I even be?  I see Danni Allen in this season's BL and I find myself dying to be in her shoes.  I feel like that could be me.  I feel like it should be me (in addition to, not instead of her)...

I've been dieting.  It has been going okay; I lost around 10 pounds in February / first week of March, but I had a weekend away and I'll find out for sure in the morning but I think I've gained a few pounds again.  I feel like crap: emotionally, physically, psychologically.   I need a head to toe makeover, starting with my brain.  I'm so lethargic and never feel like exercising.  For weeks I was making veggie smoothies to take to work and was eating solely at home, but for the past week I just haven't.  I don't know where to begin again.  I hear / read / listen to people say 'start small! positive affirmations!' but any time I have been involved with a person or group who talks about that, I want to curse at them and in plain english say "S.T.F.U."

I have figured out a few of my key issues: 

1. Depressed over a death of a parent (though it was 8 1/2 years ago it still hurts like heck). 

2. Job hatred: I'm WAY underpaid and undervalued; I don't love what I do. 

3. Weight and issues relating to this stemming back to early childhood. 

4. PTSD and PMDD. What a delight having these two together. 

5. Jumpstart motivation: I go so quickly that it's like when you jump too high on a trampoline... You never land just right. Then the landing hurts so I walk away. 

6. Anxiety: I paint pretty pictures of things but can't physically do them, as if a barrier is stopping me. 

7. Money: my devil. 

I take so many things in emotionally. I just watched a video about cage free vs free range vs pasture raised chickens / eggs and I feel like giving up my life for chickens. I watch the BL and I feel like giving up my life and moving to the BL resort to lose the weight I need to lose.  Any and every time I watch TV or movies I regret leaving California (where I once lived) and leaving the industry, because I just love that side of things.  So now I wonder. What do I do?  I'm being encouraged to stay in my job because the benefits are really good.  I'm being encouraged from another person in my life to quit my job, take out loans and go to school full time.  I'm being encouraged to just stay on Weight Watchers and lose weight.  But my head is so full and I'm so confused.  What...do...I...do...????

The girl in the glass bubble.

As obvious as it might be on my most recent attempts at blogging, I'll say this: I'm struggling, I'm always anxious, I'm depressed.  I have become my outward self: "the fat chick who..." and not "the girl/woman who..."  I am stuck in my own head like a bad cassette tape that keeps replaying a five second clip of a song.  "You're fat, you're worthless, you're fat, you're worthless."  Intellectually I know that I'm not worthless, but the emotional side of me has taken over my brain and I'm just in a horrible place.

This week I think I had my first panic attack. I was driving in the most stressful city in the world (DC), and pulled into the parking lot of my new therapist.  Late because of traffic (never going to get used to how bad it is in DC), and there was this guy meandering slowly across the parking lot from my left. I made the decision to park on the right side, so probably left around 5 feet between us and turned / parked. In front of him? Sure, probably.  A risk to him? Not at all.  I've been driving for more than a decade, and I'm not a moron.  He was in no way a risk.

He came up to my car and just started shouting at me about paying attention.  I just flipped him the bird and ignored him.  So he laid into me. "Oh wow fattie, what a real lady you are. Wow chunky puff, really? Big woman, wow! pay attention, or are you too fat to see??" I mean, this man was at my car window. I just kept saying "F--- off a-hole, go away." My years of compounding PTSD set in and it was all I could do.  My seatbelt was still on, and I felt absolutely trapped, filled with rage, angry, sad, disgusted with myself, hating him. Out of control. Who was he to yell at me about my WEIGHT??

He kept threatening to get my car towed, saying that he didn't think I had a parking permit, kept calling me fat and everything like that.  I've never experienced this kind of fat discrimination before, it was always just looks from people.  But this was something else.  I started to get out of my car, because I was honestly going to hit the man.  I'm not a violent person, I've never wanted to physically go crazy and punch people, but this was amazing. As soon as I opened the door he walked away and into the building. I got my stuff and left to go in, and by that time, only seconds after him, he was gone.  He ran away like a b----!!

I went to my therapist and when she started talking about our last session I looked down at my hands and realized they were literally shaking. Never having experienced this before I did a quick mental check of my body.  My breathing was off and I was absolutely tearing up. Heaving with sobs and losing it in a fit of tears, out came the panic attack.

My therapist seemed surprised. I explained what happened and annoyingly she was calm and tried to ask me to repeat what he said. I wanted to just shout "BE ANGRY WITH ME. SIDE WITH ME. STOP ASKING ME QUESTIONS!!!" something.  But nothing came out. She tried to have my do deep breathing, but that kind of relaxing makes me panic. I get angry. I get frustrated and annoyed.  So we changed the subject. It worked within two minutes and I was able to talk about other things.

I got home and surprisingly (as I'd usually just push it down), I told my roommate.  She was angry at him, saying 'What a child! Who does he think he is?' and pretty much defended me.  That was nice.  I actually told another friend and he told me that this man wasn't worth it, because he's clearly not a good person.

When and why did I become 'the fat chick who' instead of just 'the girl/woman'.  When did my physical appearance become my identity?  A few weeks ago I watched a Lifetime movie (yes, I'm that depressed) about a girl who faked a pregnancy in high school for her Senior Project.  One poignant thing at the end of the movie was that people saw her as 'the pregnant girl who COULD have done...' instead of 'the amazingly smart girl who is destined for...'  I feel just like that.  My whole life I have felt like someone who should be able to just unzip this suit and a thin, pretty, happy, innocent again version of myself would just step out. That would be my life.  Problem solved.

My good friend told me today that I need to see 'me' as the person he sees: fun to be around, nice, easy-going, a good listener, funny, charismatic, smart etc. But I see 'the fat chick who has these attributes:.." then they're listed.   I don't know if I learned anything from this panic attack. I never want to see that A-hole again in my entire life though. Ever.  I heard a quote today 'she has the knowledge, but not the understanding', about a little girl who was overweight who knows that her health will be affected if she doesn't keep changing, but doesn't understand all of the exact consequences.

I have the knowledge, understanding, and many resources to make changes. I am fighting this battle where my intellect is going CRAZY inside of a glass bubble. It's like a 'jail cell' and my emotion is the bars, floors, walls and guard, preventing me from making a change.  Keeping me locked up. Keeping me in this "safe" place so that I don't have to live.... Breaking out will make you get cut, hurt, you'll bleed. But I WANT TO!!  How do you break out of this proverbial jail? How do you beat this system? I want all of the stuff on the "outside." I want the health, body, love life, and confidence, however I'm sitting in this emotional jail cell bubble with no way out. I know that once I get there, once I figure out how to break out I'll be unstoppable. But today.. tomorrow... who knows...

Dreams vs Reality; Dancing vs Couching.

For as long as I can remember, I have made up vivid little scenarios in my head that I'd like to see happen. Sometimes it starts with a daydream and then becomes an all out scenario.  Sometimes it's just an escape for me, from the drudgery of my day-to-day existence.  For example: 


I might see a super-good looking guy in person and then daydream myself thinner and dating him.  That daydream turns into picturing my dream house that I'd remodel, us in our king-size bed with flowing curtains looking out over a large lawn with perfect grass and our two or three dogs running around the back yard.  The detail in my daydreams is somewhat frightening. I can picture my night-stand, the books on it, the books on his night stand, the paint on our walls, you name it. I dream at night like this too - often awakening to the thought of "where am I?", being confused as to why I'm not awake in my new house.

One of my longest going mock-scenario-daydreams has been that I'm a terrific dancer. I'm talking Heather Morris from Glee talented. I have many quasi-secrets and daydreams regarding dancing. The first and probably oldest is that I am wonderful at ballroom dancing, and can perform dances like the waltz, foxtrot and tango. I picture myself like Princess Diana, dancing in fancy gowns, amazing jewelry, terribly uncomfortable shoes.  They become more modern as I've aged.  I am not generally a hip-hop dancer fan, and holy crap anything that Glee puts out I dream about being involved with.   I have this secret dream that the creators of Glee will put out a series of exercise videos, with sections for beginning, intermediate and experienced dancers.  It's something that I could really get into and sweat to. It would encourage me to lose weight. Also, it's probably a cash cow, because people love that show! <Glee plug over>


I don't know what these scenario-daydreams are about, or even when they got started - I don't have them all of the time, sometimes once a day, or twice if I'm feeling lonely or anxious.  I was relatively active as a kid, but was teased and beat up (emotionally, mentally and occasionally physically) throughout my childhood, so turned to food and gave up activity. I even had my parents tell me things like 'this sport is going to be too competitive in high school, you won't be able to compete at that level.'  I have a feeling they were trying to protect me from the pain of failing a tryout, or the inability to attend meets and travel games due to a lack of familial finances at the time, but I'll never know if I could have competed at that level.  I always felt second best, second rate, second class.  It was almost in a sense...engrained in me. 


I have this intellectual side that says that the dreams are probably a way for me to feel normal and what I picture others' lives like; an escape from my day-to-day life. A lot of times I know that these things are just things that I want.  Having PTSD, I find myself reverting to these scenarios when I'm feeling vulnerable or anxious. After an assault that I went through, for some time I found that they were nearly all bad scenarios: picturing myself bloody,  traumatized, beaten up, etc.  Then they turned back to 'normal' or desirous. The emotional side of me feels childish, doesn't want them to stop; I feel more whole in them because in them I get what I want.  It's like an imagination-based 'Second Life' game (which by the way, freaks me out and I find creepy). 


Part of me feels trapped, like they are a security blanket from the PTSD. I know that I can be happy when I escape into my inner-mind: in love with my "boyfriend", thin, happy, athletic.  None of these scenarios currently exist in real life.  I sometimes wonder if I'm too scared to find them in real life because I'll be disappointed by what I find, as I've created such a tall pedestal upon which my expectations sit.  I hope that this doesn't make me come off as crazy.  I can absolutely discern the fact from fiction, and know that when I daydream or create a scenario, it's not real; I start or stop them at any given moment.  Hmm, I don't know.  Maybe I'll find a way to eventually make some of my dreams a happy reality! 

Help; I need somebody, Help; not just anybody..

I'm a morning person.  My body wakes me up at 6-7am, no matter what time I went to sleep.  If it's 8am, it's a damn miracle.  My job requires me to work late, meaning 12p-10p four days per week.  I usually have a break at around 3:30 or 4pm, so by the time I get home I'm starving, and so exhausted that I don't want to cook or prepare anything. So I eat: crap foods.

The month of December has been pure hell at work. I've been yelled at by ignorant people, we've been robbed where I work (long story), and for the entire month of December I'm working late.  I usually work these later shifts once or twice per week which is fine, it's when I take my dog to the dog park in the morning.  Now that I'm doing it four times per week, I notice that I eat crap foods when I get home.  My roommate wakes up at 5-7pm for the night because of her work schedule, so she's always up for eating when I get home, which in a sense encourages and enables me.

This job doesn't pay me well. I find that because I'm always in the poor house, when I get money I can't hold onto it. A lot of times it goes to food.  I have a feeling that it's a deep-rooted issue from childhood, because I know we had some money troubles for a few years back then, and I was always really terrible at budgeting. Also, I was always teased about my weight and turned to hiding and eating food when I was like 5 years old and older.  I know this is all related to PTSD but I can't figure out how.. I also go to the grocery store and buy fresh and beautiful foods with desires to cook, but most of the time they go wasted.  I get anxiety cleaning out the fridge, knowing a. how much money I wasted, and b. how it means what I really put in my body.

I hate waking up full and feeling disgusting.  This is a true sign that I've slipped into some of my old ways. This is truly embarrassing, but here is a taste of my old ways and what I put myself through last night.  I got home at 10:20pm and thought about ordering food. For some reason I have this thing that I can't figure out: if I think about food in a certain way ('ooh, I want pizza'), it is an all-consuming 'deal' until I actually do what my brain is consumed with: eat the food I can't stop thinking about.  By can't stop thinking about it, I mean NOTHING stops me from thinking about it. I won't pay attention to conversations, TV, music, internet, you name it.  Then I do what I'm consumed with and it's like 'okay cool, back to reality.'

Last night I unfortunately thought about a calzone and mozzarella sticks.  At 10:30pm I ordered them, and started watching (of all things, The Biggest Loser).  I ordered said food as well as a pizza, 'to tide me over for a couple of days.'  They came at 11:15; I ate my calzone and mozzarella sticks, and when I was putting away the pizza took a slice to eat. I don't know why, but !#%(&# @$%@ I wish I hadn't.  I sat on the couch in a sad state of lethargy, watching the Biggest Loser contestants run a marathon. P.S. if John wins this I would like to personally drive to his house and punch him in the face for being a bloody jerk.

So I went to bed last night, and just like in my old ways I had trouble falling asleep. It was after 2:30am when I finally did.  I woke up this morning at around 7:30, and fought off actually getting up due to exhaustion until 9. Then I got up.  I got an all-consuming desire to blog this, like I know it would help.  It hasn't, but maybe it will soon.  I don't know what to do. My job doesn't offer health insurance for more than six months, so I'm still waiting on that. I'm sure therapy would help, but I'm stuck.

Being Present

I hate the term 'being present.' I probably hate it the most because I never really was 'present.'  I've been pretty mechanical, which I think will explain some of my anxieties and depression, and for sure PTSD.. I just go through life, non-stop, everything has to be right, done right, mechanically handled, etc.

I've lost weight before. In 1994 I went to fat camp for 6 weeks and lost 24 lbs.  I went from 140 to 116 and I looked amazing afterwards. I was in middle school, and kids were much nicer to me that year. Boys told me that I looked pretty for the first, and what feels like the last time. But, By 14 I was at about 180 and by the end of high school I hit about 200.

I lost weight at 21 years old (20 lbs, back to 200lbs), but it was all mechanical - I did the diet, I lost weight. Things happened and I ate again: for stress, depression, happiness, boredom, fear, you name it.. In 6 1/2 years, I must have really checked out, because all of the sudden as I've shared, I was 300 lbs.

I went through treatment for an ED two years ago, but I'm not sure that I was present for all of that, or if it was the right treatment. I don't know what I weighed, because I was terrified of finding out. I don't think I lost weight, because they had us maintain (or gain, for those who had EDs that required it).. It was then that I was diagnosed with PTSD, which I've found really causes me to close my mind and just forget, not allow any information in. Literally.

So, the past 6 or 7 years have been a blur, some times more than others.. I was struggling with that emotion vs. intellect that I've spoken about, but I think it's even more-so, I've struggled with being there and being okay with sharing my experiences.

Something is different now, or at least it feels like it is.  Maybe it was seeing the number 3 as the first number of my weight, or realizing that I have missed out on so much, maybe it was removing myself from the biggest stresses in my life, I don't know.  But this time I think like I'm actually feeling the weight loss, I'm seeing it happen, I'm keeping track.  I'm blogging about it, which means that I'm sharing my experiences, which I've rarely done before.

I'm trying to be present during exercising. I'm trying to feel my muscles during their struggle, and remember how I feel afterward. I'm trying to engrain it into my brain what I feel when I put clothes on that are too big. I'm trying to remember that five years ago, I was wearing shirts that fit now, so I probably only have 15 lbs to lose until I reach the weight I was 4-5 years ago. I'm trying to remember that being at a weight from five years ago after only six months of hard work is amazing.  I'm finding amazing, strong, supportive online supporters and friends, and this is just the beginning!

Roller coaster motivation

I've been unemployed for a while. This has led to an off-and-on inspired, lazy, energetic, lethargic, up, down, roller coaster lifestyle for a couple of months. Luckily, I've pretty much stuck to my diet, and whereas I could be healthier than I am, I am working towards that, it's tough to stay motivated on an even level.

With what I think is my PTSD and anxiety rearing their ugly heads, I notice that sometimes I'll put things off that are very important. For example, I needed to get a document notarized and sent off with other documents, and could have done this two weeks ago. Instead, I waited until what I realize could be the last possible moment to get it done and still meet the deadline. Now, I ended up paying extra money for it, and am now going to be on edge about it until I hear back.

Sometimes, like last week, I'll have 200% motivation and focus. Now herein lies the question: who has had this type of roller coaster motivation and conquered it? How did you do that?

This I Believe, This I Deserve.

I love http://thisibelieve.org/  There are so many powerful essays that speak to so many different types of people.  I listened to a Jillian Michaels' podcast today, and as I mentioned in a prior blog, she asked the woman who called in to the show what she wanted, what she deserved in losing weight.  This is what I believe, this is what I deserve.

I believe that I am worth it. I believe in myself. I believe that I am intelligent, witty, kind, beautiful, and as many people have told me: the spark that lights up any room that I enter

This is a recent phenomenon for me, as before about a year ago I only sought acceptance and love from others. I cared more about what others thought of me than what I have thought of myself.  I always wanted to lose weight FOR so-and-so, BECAUSE so-and-so might love or appreciate me, IF xyz happened in my life, you name it, I excused it.  

In my teen and young-adult years, I always had adult men say things like "Oh, if I were only 5/10/20 years younger .... If we only met at the right time ... You'd have been my first choice if I wasn't already married, dating, there was no age difference, etc... Someone wonderful will come along for you..."  I have had experiences that I'd much rather forget, and I haven't met one man who truly cares enough about me or respects me enough to deserve me.

Now, I imagine Bob Harper & Jillian Michaels from The Biggest Loser (who, yes, I've put on a very tall pedestal) would say to me something along the lines of: "Cut the crap. What's blocking you? Get up, get moving, get over it!"  So, that's what I'm attempting. 

In the past year I have lost my job, lost nearly 40 pounds (that took at least 3 years to gain) and lost what I thought was my sanity, but what turned out to be the exact opposite. I lost some things that were holding me back, now I'm trying to shed the rest.  

For the future, this I deserve: 

• I deserve a body that matches my wonderful personality.

• I deserve a body and mind that work together, and not against one another. 

• I deserve unwavering self-confidence. 

• I deserve to live in a world where I am not fighting PTSD on an hourly or daily basis.

• I deserve to walk down a street and not feel judged, most of the judgement coming from within.

• I deserve to feel sexy and confident in a Little Black Dress.

• I deserve to walk into a store and pick out fashionable clothes, not flower print tops meant for the elderly.

• I deserve to feel love from a man, with a connection that I've never had, in a way that I've never loved.

• I deserve to love myself over all others, unselfishly and fiercely. 

This I believe: I am fighting a battle that will take a long time to win. I believe that I am strong enough to fight it, if I just continue to believe in myself and ask for help. I believe that I will have good days and bad days. I believe that although there are days that I will want to hide under my old fat-suit, but I know that it's an escape.  I believe that I will succeed, and that I will bring many people up with me. I want this, all of this I believe.

Jillian Michaels

I just sent a tweet announcing the fact that I'd be skipping my workout today: I have been up since yesterday AM, am sore, etc. I immediately saw a tweet from @JMRadioShow: "Think you've hit a plateau? Think again! Check out @JillianMichaels advice on her latest podcast, available now! http://bit.ly/fWv8DV". 

Immediately I felt guilty that I was going to skip all forms of exercise today and decided to go to the gym. I put on an XL shirt that never fit before (score!) and an XL set of exercise pants that didn't quite fit, but which I wore anyway.

In the gym first thing I see is @Ali_Sweeney on the TV.  I smiled, thinking 'yep, this is right.'  I get on an elliptical and turn on the TV. Listening to the podcast, I hear @JillianMichaels say 'Weight Watchers' just as I look up at the @WeightWatchers commercial playing on TV.  Again, it felt right.

The workout was so easy, very steady. I did 45 minutes on the elliptical and 16 on the treadmill, for a total of 712 calories.  I kept watching myself in the mirror, feeling self-loathing regarding my appearance and happiness regarding my current weight loss.  As usual, former demons crept in and out, trying to almost taunt me into giving up and stopping the workout.  

This came to me: My brain did this to my body, my body didn't ask for it.  The 140 pound version of me living in the light at the end of the tunnel loves working out. The demon on the other shoulder, the one who has been winning for so long, tries to keep me fat, safe from taking chances, safe from actually living my life... Like it wants me all to its' self.  My brain let this second voice have the stronger influence on me, but I'm done and I hope I can stick to these guns.  

In Jillian's radio show, she asked the woman who called in what she deserved, what she wanted, why she wanted to lose 70 pounds.  I immediately started typing along on my phone, things that I wanted for myself, things I deserve.  That'll be another blog, hopefully coming tonight. 

The moral of my day, I think, is that yes the work that I've put in is amazing, but I constantly struggle with my brain. Clearly, if I can conquer my two sides, my PTSD symptoms, my 'demon-side' that is constantly putting me down, this will become so much easier.  The question is... How? 

PTSD

I've been dreading talking about this. I can't hide behind it anymore, as much as I want to. About 18 months ago, I was diagnosed with PTSD. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Without going into too many details, there have been about 5-6 separate traumatic events or time-periods over the span of 20 years that have taken me from 'great' to 'okay' to 'bad' to 'worse' to 'bloody awful,' where I sit now.

I grew up a bubbly, outgoing, fun, a total dreamer, caring, prepared for anything kind of girl.  In high school, I was voted most likely to go into the Peace Corps. I was in half a dozen choirs, head of many community service events, you name it and I had my hand in it. I grew up the center of the room: when I walked in, you knew it and I was comfortable there.  There was nothing show-boaty about me, I just was and still am me: as sincere as I can be...

During my adult life, I would say four of the aforementioned traumas have happened. In six years I gained 100 pounds. I'm starting to lose it (I'm down 38.6 pounds) and am trying to take precautions, but I don't feel any better. Living with PTSD is pure hell. I'm trapped behind this wall of anxiety and dread.  I cry at the drop of a hat.

Nearly any time that I have a conversation that sparks a debate or resembles one, I forget almost everything immediately thereafter. If I feel threatened, survival instincts kick in and I just lash out to get the issue to end. It almost always causes friction, and I can never explain myself properly.  If I can picture myself doing anything inside, it's as if someone threw me into a pit of spiders and snakes, and I'm closing my eyes and screaming, jumping around and trying to push them away.

I turn everyone away: I can't bring myself to respond. For example, someone e-mailed me about ten days ago, and I've been sitting on the e-mail dreading my response. There is nothing sour at ALL on either side, it is actually relatively positive, but it is something that I blew off to handle later and then blew up from a tiny grape to an entire vineyard.

In the past I went through periods of paranoia - not bad, but there. In my old place of residence, every noise was a burglar, and someone was definitely about to break in.  I saw a specific car on my then street, not identical to one that I feared, but a four door version of the two door car that I wished to avoid, and I broke out in cold sweats, panting, tearing up and eventually keeping a knife with me 'just in case.'

When I get to do something (i.e. go to a job, get an interview, etc) I am able to like a light switch really turn the old me back on. Phone interviews are always amazing - I am a pretty good phone person.  When people ask how I am (friends that I still have left), I'm always FINE (f.i.n.e. see liner notes here)!

Lately, I've been feeling so stressed out to where I can't cope.  I have been trying to find a job and have applied for around 100 jobs and have been turned down for 30 so far. It's really difficult, because it's bringing up so many of the past issues, and with no job, money, or insurance, I can't even see a therapist to deal with this stuff..

I started a job 10 days ago and left it 6 days ago after one of my new colleagues, who unprofessional and very slimy, said things to me that made me slip into yet another 'funk.'  Knowing that I didn't deserve what I was getting there, I opted to leave. I finally listened to my gut. It didn't make me feel any better though, and I still don't feel any better.

Recently I have become kind of internally aggressive. I've pictured myself punching people who upset me. At one point at the job last week, to the piss-ant who ignorantly told me that I would receive no love and be a cat lady forever (I hate cats), I pictured horrible and somewhat violent things happening to him.  I am probably the least violent person I know. Sometimes things don't affect me immediately, but they affect me a few days later, it builds up, I stress eat, regret it, etc.

So, I don't know what the gist of this is.  I'm on such a roller coaster of emotions, I just want something amazing to happen to me. I want so badly to be happy. I have fleeting moments where I picture myself to be: a carefree adventurer, an athlete, someone who just loves herself to pieces, a gym-rat, able to stand solidly on my own two feet, financially stable, in love, happy, satisfied. I yearn for those days. I need those days to start. I need an up-swing.

DISCLAIMER:  I'm not looking for a pity party, I just needed to get this out. Only a few people in my life know about my PTSD and only one family member even knows most of what I wrote..