it is what it is.

i have been feeling very unsettled lately.  having moments of extreme sadness, panic, lethargy, ennui.  (not all at the same time, and not in succession).  a specific incident occurred the other day, when suddenly, i was horribly sad.  very dark.  inexplicably so.

if i were paying close attention, i would have to say that it feels like the depression is coming back.    not that the depression ever really left, but it lifted some.  the suicidal thoughts and feelings diminished in intensity, but they were still there, under the surface.

i have to say that i haven’t actively thought about killing myself in a while, but i have thought about dying, quite a bit.  i know that it doesn’t sound like there is a difference, but there is a difference.

but the other day, when the sadness came over me, overwhelmed me, it felt like sinking back into that deep hole, that dark place, and for a brief moment, i got scared.  there is another component to that though, a comfortable familiarity, that feels like an old, worn, but still warm blanket.  an old friend.

but not an entirely welcome friend at this point.  i feel like i need to hold on to every scrap of okayness that i can muster.  if i am going to successfully lose this weight, and keep it off, i cannot fall into that hole.  i cannot succumb to the darkness.  if i do, then what’s the point of trying anything at all, i might as well just end it, and quickly.

but i’m not there… i don’t want to end it.  i want to give it a go, and see what things are going to be like.  admittedly though, i don’t hold out much hope for happiness.  i am pretty sure that i’m destined to be forever alone, and with that comes loneliness.  i’m terrified of losing my parents, even though we have a shitty relationship, and being the only one left in my own family, completely on my own.   but i’m willing to stick it out now, to see how it will be.  i’m not really keen on offing myself beforehand to avoid the pain that losing them will be.

and i’m missing someone to talk to.  someone to dump all of my shit on and not have to carry it around by myself.  someone to share stuff with.  i don’t necessarily miss sandra anymore, i’ve moved beyond that.  in fact, i ran into her a few weeks ago, and i realized then that i don’t miss her anymore like i used to.  i don’t long for her, and there is something that has changed about her.  the last time i saw her, i was actually talking, and not just sitting there mute, and her whole therapy style had changed, and i didn’t like it.  in fact, it kind of annoyed me.  so i know that my desperate attachment to her is gone, and that i don’t need her like i used to.  but i miss having someone “there”.  does that even make sense?   i miss having someone that i “could” talk to, even though i didn’t really talk to her.  but i also don’t know if i would be able to open myself up to someone new.  i have trust issues.  i don’t want to start all over again with someone who i then couldn’t talk to… but then again, i’m lonely.

ugh, i don’t know.  for now, i’m just sitting in my own discomfort, trying not to get dragged under.

—

iiwii

i feel sad.  i’m not sure why.  it’s a deep sadness that i’ve written about before.  i’m not entirely sure of it’s origin, but i have some ideas.

i also feel disappointed, and i’m having a hard time believing that i’m going to be able to lose all of this weight.  but i’ll keep plugging away.  i’m just really scared that i’m going to have to take more drastic measures in order for the weight to come off.  atkins is easy, and if it’s easy, it’s bound to not work, right?

–

iiwii

there is evidence that i am a despicable, unloveable human being.  evidence that i cannot ignore, and when i allow myself to think about it, it brings unbearable sadness.  sadness that can only be suppressed and packed back down with a force greater than gravity itself.

this evidence comes in the form of family.  given family, not chosen family.  a family that has written me off.  a family that has discarded me as easily as someone throws away milk that has passed it’s expiration date and is starting to smell.

ok, some back story for you.

a few years ago, about 8 years ago now, i had a huge falling out with my closest cousin laura and my aunt marlene, her mother, over something i had written in my private, albeit online diary.  i wrote some things about our family thanksgiving dinner that i found amusing (if not amusingly depressing), and my aunt marlene printed it out and gave it to all the people i wrote about.  since then, my cousin has expressed nothing but hatred and vitriol toward me.  no one has spoken a word to me.  my aunt marlene reached out to me about a year ago and said she wanted to put everything behind us, and that she forgave me (for what i’m not sure, since i didn’t do anything), but i told her to pound sand, that i would never trust her again, and that she would not be hearing from me again.  (fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me…)

ok, so now,

my whole family (minus my dad) is on facebook.  my mom, all my cousins, my aunts, my uncle, my mom’s cousins, etc.

this fact usually doesn’t bother me in the least, because it is not in my realm of awareness.  none of them are fb friends with me. it’s just not on my radar.  however, yesterday, i had to do some stuff remotely on my mom’s computer.  she had an email from my cousin kelly (laura’s sister) about her daughter, a picture she posted or something, which prompted me to assist my mother going onto her facebook page and showing her how to respond to kelly.  in doing so, i saw my mom’s wall, chock full of posts from my cousins, and aunts.  there was even a picture of all of us cousins in murrieta hot springs (when i was about 7 years old.)  everyone was tagged except for me.

this made me profoundly sad. upset really.  and reminded me that there are a whole group of people, banded together, that cannot stand me.  and all of them are related to me.  and that really hurts.

and it makes me think that i must be a horrible person.  i must be, otherwise, they would like me.  they seem to like each other.  and it makes me question and doubt every relationship that i’ve ever had that has ended.  including the one i had with my grandma (who is no longer living).  did she really love me?  she used to make me feel like i was her favorite, but i refused to go see her when she was dying in the hospital, because i was too scared to see her so sick, and then she died.  and what if she died hating me, like the rest of the family?  and my brother, when we were going through his stuff after he killed himself, he had a little green address book, and my phone number was listed under “b” and the listing said, “bitch kraft”.  my own brother hated me.  and i know that my parents, on some level, don’t like me… because they sure as shit keep their distance from me.  especially emotionally.  and julie, did she ever really love me?  or did she just tolerate me until she was done with me?  because from the way she treats me now, i’d have to say she never really loved me in the first place.

so, what makes a person disposable?  unloveable?  i’d say that a person with those qualities is despicable, detestable.  and that would be me.

i’m sure you will say that my logic is flawed, but it makes perfect sense to me.

—

iiwii

i’m starting my eighth week of weight loss.  i’m inspired and motivated by having lost 21 pounds in that short period of time.  i have been working out, and i’m starting to see the payoff of that as well, in more defined muscles in my arms and legs.  but the problem is, i’m still really fat, and that is discouraging.  i still can’t see my collar bones.  my neck and chin are enough for two people, my arms are gross, and i’m not even getting into what my belly looks like.

i want to be thin, strong, powerful, pain free and healthy.  i am fighting for it.  i’m working my ass off… but it’s taking a really long time.  no one at work has even noticed that i’ve lost weight yet, and that is also discouraging.

i’m teeter tottering between feeling really good about my accomplishment, and hating myself vehemently.

and, to top off all the uncomfortable feeling, my shirt is too tight today.  i got ambitious and wore a too small shirt to work and i feel like garbage in it.

but i guess i’m still here, and i’m still working hard, and i’m still fighting, so that is something.

as usual, iiwii.

i am SO frustrated.  my weight loss has appeared to have stalled.

i’m 7 weeks in.  i’m 200 pounds.  i should not be hitting a plateau.  there is no reason for me to be stalled at this point. i’m sticking to the plan (to the letter), i’m working out hard 5 days a week.  it makes no sense.

it’s making me grumpy and irritable.  it’s also making me scared that i’m going to be stuck at this weight for the rest of my life.  destined to be a disgusting fat ass… and i just cannot have that.

at the end of this week (after i finish the jenny food i paid for), i’m switching to atkins.  i know that if i’m in ketosis, i’m going to lose weight.  it’s a proven fact.  and the fastest way to ketosis is atkins.

atkins is sort of a gateway diet for me.  i did atkins before settling into lindora, which worked like a motherfucker.  i think if i start atkins, i’ll either stick to it for the duration, or transition into lindora again.

i just want this weight off my body.  NOW.

i’m not sure how i’m going to tell my jenny counselor though.   i think it’s going to upset her, and that’s the last thing i want to do.  but i have to do this.

i’m kind of excited about almond butter, and cream in my coffee, and a bacon burger, and not having to worry about how many eggs i eat, and atkins peanut butter chocolate things.

i’m getting so bored with what i’m eating.  but i know that i’ll eventually get sick of not eating fruits and veggies in the same quantities, and that’s likely when i’ll transition to lindora.

i keep getting ahead of myself.  i keep launching myself into the future, when i’m thin and wearing clothes that are not made for the circus fat lady.  and then i come back to now and i realize i’m still fat and still disgusting and still stuck here.  it’s frustrating.

i just have to try to stay in the moment.

—

iiwii

time is passing anyway, no matter what you do, time is passing.  you can’t stop it.  you can’t make it go slower or faster, it just passes.

this is something that i know very well.  there are and have been many times in my life that i have wished (if not begged) for time to pass more slowly or much faster, but my pleading is always ignored by whomever the time gods* happen to be.

i have been pleading for time to speed up quite a lot lately.  i want to be done with jenny craig and at my goal.  i want it all to go faster, but saturday, after my weigh in, i had an epiphany of sorts.  i was standing there, waiting for my jc counselor to come out with my food for the week, when i suddenly got very zen about it all.  time is going to pass.  no matter what.  the same time would pass whether i was dieting or not.  in 3 months, i’d be three months older, but i’ll also be x number of pounds thinner… no matter what.  if i wasn’t doing jenny, i’d be 3 months older and just as fat as i was before, if not fatter.  so i’m moving forward, even though it isn’t fast enough for me.

i’m going to reach my goal, no matter how much time it takes.

if i can let go of the time thing, and just take it for what it is, then i’m going to have a much easier time of it and a better experience all around.  and when i’m done, i’m going to look back on this period of time and marvel at how quickly it happened.

i guess it’s just what side of the tunnel you are on at the time.    right now the tunnel looks long and the light at the end is far away.  when i get to the other side, the perspective will shift.

i just have to keep reminding myself that i’m in no hurry.

* not to be confused with time lords.  totally different.  not the same.

—-

iiwii

i hate myself.

i know i’ve said it before ad infinitum, but it’s true.  every time i open my mouth to speak, i regret it 10 seconds later.

i laugh too loud, i make stupid jokes, i insert myself into conversations too often, i am too geeky/nerdy, i say inappropriate things, i take up too much space, i come off as desperate and lonely, i put my foot in my mouth, and on and on and on.

i try to be helpful, and funny (maybe i try too hard).  probably i do.  i just feel like a square peg in a round hole all the time, every minute of every day.

and the shame is excruciating.  debilitating.  crushing.  it’s like walking around with a 50 ton slab of concrete on my back.

it makes me suspicious of everything and everyone.  are they being nice to me because they haven’t figured out that i’m an idiot yet?  or are they just being nice?  are they being distant because they can’t stand me and don’t know how to get rid of me?  are they all talking about me behind my back?  do they want me to go away?  do they wish i would shut up?  are they just using me because i’m helpful in the moment?

it’s no wonder my parents sent me away when i was 16.  it’s no wonder they don’t bother coming to see me.  they can’t stand me either, but i’m theirs, so it makes it complicated.

it’s no wonder julie left me.  it’s actually a wonder she stayed so long.

i am filled with regret.  regret and shame and vitriol.

—-

iiwii

feelings are not facts.  i know this well, but i can’t help but be scared almost immobile by some of the feelings and thoughts i’ve been having.

sometimes, i think i am actually crazy.  but i know that i’m not.

i have lots of scary thoughts.  i start thinking about something, and then i play out the thought to the ugliest conclusion, and then i fret and fret that what i thought about will happen, or is happening.

case in point.  i’m sitting on the bus this morning, and i start thinking about my mom.  she’s having a colonoscopy today.  and then i think about what if they find colon cancer, and then i envision myself sitting by her bed as she is dying, and then all of a sudden, i’m freaking out about my mom dying of cancer.  cancer that she doesn’t have, and dying that she is not doing.

case in point, the second.  i see someone walking their dog down the street, which makes me think about java.  i picture myself walking java down the street (which i don’t and would probably never do), and then i see him get out of the leash and dash into the street and get hit by a car.  then i’m fretting and worrying about java getting hit by a car and dying.  two things that are definitely not happening. but i’m getting all worked up about it in my mind.

i’ve been doing this since i was a little kid.  catastrophizing every thought.  when i was small, i would say out loud, “that’s not going to happen” and it would help a little bit with the runaway thought.  nowadays, i just force myself to think about something mundane, like paint peeling off a building, or trees, or something that has absolutely nothing to do with me or my daily life.  and usually that works.  by the time i get to work, and am fully immersed in what needs to be done for the day and the crazy pace of work, i am usually not thinking about myself at all.  but the minute i’m alone, or the minute i go into my head, i’m blindsided by those horrible thoughts.

case in point, the third.  i spend time with someone in whatever capacity.  they respond or react to me in a cold way.  could be they are having a bad day or a hard time, could be they are just being quiet.  i think about the interaction, and in my head, suddenly they hate me, and when i start examining every other interaction that i’ve had with every other person, i realize that they hate me too, and all the people that i haven’t talked to in a long time, or have lost touch with stems from the fact that they must hate me too, and now i’m completely friendless and unloveable and everyone in the world thinks i’m disgusting.  even strangers give me dirty looks and i have become an untouchable.

i know it’s my fucked up brain chemistry.  i know it’s part of the depression or whatever complicated fucked up mental illness i have, but it gets so tiresome.

sometimes, i just want to be normal.  whatever that means.  i want to have a normal brain, and a normal body, and a normal metabolism, and i want to blend in and have a happy life with all the normal happy milestones.  but that is not how it is.  i am alone, i’ll die alone, i know this.  i’m just not meant to be happy.  i know this too.

iiwii.

i’ve lost 12 pounds.  my jeans are looser, my face is not so puffy.  i’ve been punishing myself with jillian michael’s 30 day shred, my muscles are sore (in a good way) and i’m starting to see changes under all the fat.

it’s good, and it’s happening fast, i just started week 4, and i’m already down 12.  i just pray to whatever is holy that it continues like this.  i have so much weight to lose.  realistically, 77 pounds, idealistically, 87 pounds… and i’ve lost 12, so 75 to go (or 65 to be sane.)

that’s SO much weight.  i hope i can do it.  i hope that when i’m done, all this working out pays off and i’m not just a bunch of saggy skin.

i say, “i hope” but what it is really is that i desperately pray.  beyond desperate but i don’t have a word for that.

seems like lately i don’t really have the words for the depths of my feelings.

i should ponder that.

today i have an unknown sad.

it’s a deep sad.  a sad that comes from way within and has no beginning and no ending.

it’s the type of sad that sucks the wind out of you, where every single thing reminds you of something or someone you have lost.

it’s a sad that calls to you from far away, and you can barely hear it for a minute, and then, suddenly, it is upon you, engulfing you.

it is the kind of sad that is not easily ignored, or pushed away with chocolate or shopping.

this sad demands attention.  it demands to be spoken to and spoken about, but the words i know to describe it are insufficient.

this sad comes over you in waves, and ebbs only slightly so that you can catch your breath for a second before you are again immersed.

it is a sad that cannot be hidden.  people can see it in your eyes, hanging on your shoulders.  they ask, “are you ok? you look tired” and you nod and smile and push the sad away just enough to lie and respond, “i’m ok.  just tired.”  because if you were not able to do so, you would have to acknowledge it to someone else and that would be all that it took to wash you away.

this is the brand of sad that feels like it is never going to go away.

the kind of sad that feels like it will be with you forever.