THE Moment...That Moment...The Moment of Clarity.

Stress. Anxiety. No caffeine. Depression. Irritation. Anger. Annoyance.  All here.  I told myself that when I turned 30, to put it bluntly I would "get my sh*t together".  It's been a few months and I still haven't done that much in my personal life.  I re-joined Weight Watchers and went to some meetings, but I haven't hit that 'moment' where you say "this is it. I need to change."   Two weeks ago I gave up caffeine and I feel like it was awful and terrible and yet a good thing to do for the long run.   Still, no visit from "the moment". 

My roommate and I planned yesterday to be the day we started cleaning out our apartment to move in a couple of months, as well as to clean out our fridge and begin anew with healthier eating and following WW.   As she works nights and sleep days, I did the trip to Costco for a few things.  On the way home I was thinking about my gym which I passed on the way home; I decided to go later that day and schedule an appointment with a personal trainer.  I need to strengthen my core, begin increasing my overall health. 

Upon my return home and ready for the day, I had some groceries and a purse in one hand, and as the elevator doors opened I leaned down to pick up (with my left hand) a huge package of toilet paper (on my right side) when I did the dreaded lift and twist; I felt it immediately.  Incredible pain throughout my lower back and upper butt area.  I struggled down the hall and dropped our stuff off inside the doorway to the apartment.  Putting weight on my left foot was like a knife being stuck in my left buttock and spine.

I went into my room immediately and laid down on my back with my knees up in an upside-down V.  I just kept repeating 'oh no, oh no, oh no.'  My mother, brother and sister have all had the same injuries: herniated or bulging discs.  My mother and brother required surgery and my sister required physical therapy…. Now I guess it's my turn.  I struggled to stand up, crying out as the pain was getting worse and I went into my roommate's room and woke her up so that she could take me to urgent care.  

As the Nurse that she is, she told me to stick an ice pack on it and take some ibuprofen and rolled over.  Within ten minutes I was in tears, hunched over a chair.  I had to use the bathroom, but sitting down caused intense pain.  My roommate got up and took me to urgent care and my doctor told me that it was most likely similar to my family's injuries.  The pain is mainly the soft tissue inflammation and it'll take a few days to go down. In a few days, I might start feeling better but might need physical therapy; if not at all by a week from now then I have to visit an orthopedic surgeon. 

I was sent home with pain killers, steroids and muscle relaxers.  On the way home from the urgent care all that I could think about was 'is this a sign? Is this the one that I've been waiting for?'  This is my warning sign.  "The moment" that I've been waiting for.  I'm so mad at this moment!  I have been on the couch or in bed for the last 30 hours.  I feel like a lump, especially as I have to take an extra day off of work this week, where I'm already struggling.  My stomach is again larger, I'm barely fitting into my clothes.  Is this it? 

I'm thirty years old and I've barely dated.  I have these amazing dreams and daydreams about climbing mountains and taking amazing pictures.  I think about running and rowing crew and playing soccer and skiing, roughhousing with my amazing boyfriend/husband, making out with him in a cottage in the countryside of England, sledding, playing in the snow.  I see pictures of me scuba diving in the tropics, and hiking in the highlands of Scotland.  In my daydreams I always have boundless energy and take incredible pictures. 

Caffeine gave me ten percent of that energy and I felt great for a few minutes here or there but I want it all of the time.  Quitting caffeine and making the changes that I need to make, will help.  But it's what I do with "the moment" that will decide my future.  What would you do in this situation? 

Oops, I did it again

I have kind of had a reminder-breakthrough.  Well neither of those, really.  Have you ever had a moment where you have this 'epiphany,' only it's not an epiphany but something that you've been telling yourself for years, that you keep hearing and finally HEARD?  I had one of those tonight.

I eat a lot at nights when I'm alone.  Food has been my companion, my love, my best and at sometimes only friend.  It's been like this since I was probably 6 or 7 years old.  I found a picture from 3rd grade that was of me in a bathing suit, and good golly did I look engorged.  I transfered from a school with a small, safe learning environment and community to a public school in the beginning of third grade.  I was the outcast, the weirdo. I didn't raise my hand before going to the bathroom because I never had to before. I didn't know the lingo, didn't have the friends that my other classmates did.  I was such a social butterfly and have always been so, but that was tough when everyone thought you were strange.

I was bullied at home by my older brother. I remember hiding food, saying "I only had one cookie" when it was clear that I had eaten with fervor one half of a package of cookies.  Even now for example, tonight I bought some cookies for me and my roommate and I had five of them; I had this plan in my head to tell my roommate that I only had three.  She worked tonight, so even though my bank accounts and credit cards have a total of less than $100 in them, I chose to spend $22 on the same delivery calzone and mozzarella sticks that I had last night(!!). Even more embarrassingly, I went grocery shopping today and have plenty of semi-decent food to eat.

School was hell until I went to Catholic school when I was 15; and I hated it after that, still. I went to 'fat camp' the summer between 5th and 6th grade, and at camp right after I turned 11 I had my first kiss.  I thought I was the coolest girl in the world. I'd bet half the girls in school hadn't been kissed! Take that Kelly, Hillary, Caitlin and Caitlin, and whatever the hell else your bloody names are. After fat camp, it was a new middle school.  I survived in 6th grade - at 24 pounds thinner, people noticed me. The weight piled back on though, and I reverted back to the social butterfly-turned-pariah that I'd become.

From ages 8-14 I was bullied, never asked to dance at a school dance, laughed at when I did the asking.  I was so depressed when even the geekiest and those who were considered the strangest guys in my grade wouldn't dance with me in middle school. I based my self-worth on the fact that I couldn't get a 'boyfriend' (aka someone who would hold hands at recess, or sit with me at lunch).  There was a girl in my grade who had been heaver than I was, had frizzier hair than I did; we both were blessed with curly hair during the mid-90s (read: frizzy hell).  She kind of liked the same boy I did. I asked him out to selfishly prove to myself that I could get a boyfriend; he accepted and we were together for a whole two days.  It is still the longest relationship that I've ever been in. They ended up dating for the rest of 7th grade and most of 8th.

To offer an understanding as to the power that I give men: in seventh grade my entire public school class went on an environmental retreat, where we learned about nature and were supposed to have bonded.  My crush of one year (and still for another year until he moved in 8th grade) was on the trip and we ended up in line (yeah not by accident, it was puppy love!) for dinner together. I'd wanted to be a vegetarian for a year, but couldn't do it. I asked him 'why aren't you getting a burger?' and he responded (swoon!!) 'I'm a vegetarian.'  My response: 'yeah, me too.'  That was nearly 16 years ago and I'm still a vegetarian.  That was probably our longest conversation..

Due to severe bullying during my freshman year at public school I nearly died.  I won't say how or go into details, but it was terrible.  I was punched in the face when I tried to confront a friend-turned-bully.  After defending myself we were both suspended.  My one and only fight.  Girls taunted me or laughed at me to my face and behind my back.  It was hell.  I turned into one of those goth kids, fell in with the wrong crowd, and smoked a half-pack of marlborough reds until my brother stole them and beat up the guy who bought them for me. I didn't have many friends after that; my brother's reputation was known around my town.

I went to Catholic school during my second freshman grade year (the idea of a nun, and a decision which haunts and beats me up still yet) and found solace in the drama and music departments, but the bullying changed from mostly students to a few stupid girls and the teachers and faculty.  I am not Catholic, and they never let me live it down. I always felt, again, like an outcast.  I kind of had some crazy moments also, some of which were caused by others and that I reacted to, some were due to my brother's teasing, and some were just my own teenage angst.  Fast forward (quickly please) thirteen and-a-half years and here I sit.

I've endured bullying from home (until a few years ago when my brother and I unofficially made a truce), bullying from boys, being punched in the back of the head for sitting on the wrong seat on the school bus, severe bullying at work as an adult, an abusive mentor-mentee relationship, sexual harassment, sexual assault, compulsive eating ED treatment, the loss of a precious job that I look back on and shudder and I sit completely in my own mind and feeling crazy.  There's this feeling of never being good enough.  My brother called me a man-hater until a few years ago and still gives me the vibes that he thinks I am one.  It's not that, but maybe he's not exactly far off.

I'm in this state of constant underlying gentle anxiety. Does that make sense? It's not to the point where my heart is pounding and I feel nauseous, but it's there, like an old frienemy. Sitting on my shoulder, ready to take over when I need someone to, ready to cause me pain and then offer me a solace to which I always turn: food.  So tonight, after my calzone, mozzarella sticks and five cookies, I topped the night off with a bowl of ice cream (taking some from each quart, so that my roommate wouldn't notice as much) with chocolate chips on top.

I went on a date with a guy I met on match.com during my brief membership in 2006.  I lost almost ten pounds in the month leading up to our date - I wasn't hungry at night.  I remember being so excited, because I just felt better - we talked a lot, I was looking forward to talking to him instead of eating blindly at night.  He was a complete weirdo, so that one date was our last, but again I turned to food. From 2004 until 2011 I'm pretty sure I gained 90 pounds.  I'm down 40 pounds at this point, but I know it won't be long if I continue this trend.

I hate reading comments on articles where people say "fat people would be thin if they didn't eat so much".  Thanks a-hole, I never thought about that.  It's more than that, it's just like anorexia or bulimia except for your eating disordered brain tells you to do the opposite. This night-time eating thing is for the birds. I'm so sick of it, both physically and emotionally.  I'll beat it, but I feel like I'm traveling this dusty road alone - no one can pick me up from this, I'm the only one who can stop myself.  I wish it were easier.

Stay safe, enjoy your holidays.