Can you ever really outrun your demons?

That small sentence in my last post has me wondering. Will I ever?  Can we ever outrun the demons of our past or will we have to stop, turn around and fight them? And if I have to fight them, will I win- or will they? My demons are large, looming, and scary.  Some of them decades old- some even older than me really- others just young things but spry and strong nonetheless.  And it seems they have reverse aging of me.  The older I get the stronger they are.  The weaker I am the stronger they are.  

I keep running, daring a peek over my shoulder to see the twisted disfigured faces chasing me.  Sometimes quickly I even get a glimpse of me- chasing me. I run faster. I can’t let them catch me, they will overwhelm me I can’t fight them all.  There are too many, and I too weak.

I don’t know how this race? Fight? War? Will end, but no war ends without casualties, without collateral damage.  Who will suffer from this race/fight/war? Who will be the victor?

Does medical intervention = Healthy?

As I get ready to head to my physical therapy appointment that I have in an hour, then almost immediately head to my counseling appointment then my medication management appointment, and my husband heads to the orthopedic doctor, and tomorrow I head to the Chiropractor again, I can’t help but wonder if all this medical intervention is helping us, or just causing more upheaval and running around in our lives.  It seems like we are always at a doctor, or getting a new pill, or a new exercise, or new homework assignment.  To what end?

Will all these appointments bring us to healthy? Will they help or hurt more? The doctors, therapists etc are all well-meaning, but really, is all this headed anywhere? I know my husband is no better off than he was 3 years ago when he started his journey with trying to figure out what’s wrong with him and getting treatment. I have had this hip trouble over a year, anxiety and depression decades- I’ve tried several therapists in the past, and I’ve never been able to outrun my demons.

I guess I am just in a thoughtful mood today as we both face a day full of appointments meant to help us, and get us well wondering if I wouldn’t be better under a blanket fort hiding out with junk food and trash TV.

Two Hundred Thirty-Five

or Two hundred and thirty-five.  I went to the chiropractor today for the first time.  She had to weigh me, one foot on each scale to see my weight distribution side to side as opposed to my weight being an issue at all.  She didn't even mention it.  But for me it was a knife to the heart.

January 2, 2013 I was 235 pounds. I was turning 35 years old in a couple months, I decided I needed to make a change. My dad was 39 when he was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, and I was hoping that if I made a change at 35 I could avoid the same fate as him, and his father. So I made a choice and I counted every calorie that went into my body, I started the couch to 5K program, I did great. I lost 88lbs.  I have gained 88lbs, I am right back where I started. The picture on the left is me the fall before I started, the me on the right is when I was at my smallest. How did I let this happen?


People keep telling me to focus on getting mentally healthy, and my physical ailments taken care of before I worry about losing weight, but man there are pics everywhere that remind me of how I looked, and one look in the mirror reminds me that I am back to where I was before. My husband thought I was very sexy in the right hand pics, I had visible collar bones, muscular legs- yes I know I wasn't happy even then. Even then I thought I was fat, we have come to the conclusion that I have body dysmorphic disorder, and have for decades, but anyone who looks at those two pictures can understand why looking at them would make anyone depressed. I know I shouldn't spend time looking at them, but I can't help it.  Sometimes it's like am accident you're driving by you can't help but rubber neck.  Why do I seek these pictures out? I really don't know I know it's not healthy.  I know it's not helping me feel better. It's not that I am trying to make myself feel worse, but in the end that is the thing that happens. But when I stepped on that scale today and it read the same thing it did that day in January 4 years ago, my heart broke.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Lose, gain, lose, gain I feel like such a failure all the time.  I know people who see me now, think "wow, she got fat again".  I wonder what people think about that? Maybe they don't notice but I can't help but think that they must be.

#imafailure #whydidiletthishappen #ihatemyself

#dadwasrightimugly #imhomely

Every day is a new battle

I woke up feeling crappy emotionally.  It’s like the high I had yesterday from a good day had dropped off and left me at the bottom.  

My hip hurts badly between falling directly on it and starting PT.  My back is hurting as well.  It hurts to get up off the couch.  I think I’m going to see about seeing a chiropractor. I’m so tired of feeling like crap physically and emotionally.  

The kids are gone with my inlaws, and hubby had to go to work for a little while, so I’m home alone, I keep thinking I want to be alone, but being home alone also makes me sad. It’s weird it’s like I want to be alone without actually being alone.  

I need to go grocery shopping with hubby later but I don’t want to.  I don’t want to go anywhere. I’ve been getting emails about our co op play and I just want to drop out but that’s not fair to my kids.  Being depressed sucks. 

It was an honest to goodness good day. 

Sure the day started a little rough with the intrusive memory, but after I got that out, a little crying out and some time alone in the car to reflect, I hit the reset button. 

Came home to a decorated kitchen complete with helium balloons.  Had the sweetest cards from hubby, big one and little one. And a mayo jar vase of fake flowers.  I couldn’t ask for more. 

Then my neighbor texted me to come over for iced tea.  Spontaneous, unplanned- and I did it! Totally out of my comfort zone but I did it! I stayed about 30 mins and then headed home because my inlaws were due to arrive.  And they did about 5 mins after I got home. 

They brought Subway for lunch and it was yummy.  We had a nice visit! The first nice one in a while – very little drama, just some conversation and a walk down to the parking lot so little one could show off her mad biking skills (she’s just learning to ride without training wheels). Mother in law also brought me 3 beautiful plants that after they have finished blooming I can transplant to my flower beds.  

After they left, taking the kids with them, I went on Facebook to find a ton of birthday wishes! It made me feel very loved. 

And after that I opened a mystery package I received today, it ended up being an automatic handsoap dispenser and some Mrs Meyers lavender handsoap. A special gift from a really sweet friend. 

I feel so blessed today.  Today was a good day and that’s 2 good days this week. I’m lucky this week. 

The First Day of my 40th year. 

It’s my 39th birthday.  I start my 40th year today. I woke up with a PTSD memory/Intrusive thought. 

Every time my dad saw this picture he would comment on what a “homely” baby I was. What an ugly baby I was.  Homely. Ugly. Labels I still carry inside me. Labels I still assign myself. 

Happy birthday to that baby up there.  If she were mine I would cuddle her, coo to her, tell her how much I love her and how beautiful she is.  Maybe, maybe someday I can do that for me. 

Let the Birthday Shit Storm Start Early!

“I don’t want to be here (nursing home), I don’t care if I go home, fall down the stairs hit my head and die, I want to be home”.

Well thanks for the heads up dad.  At least I know to expect the call soon. Apparently psych may have finally come in today to assess his mental health.  I hope to hell he wasn’t able to charm them the way he charms everyone else.  The nurses at the facility think he’s cookoo so hopefully that’s enough.

However, if his right to make his own decisions medically are revoked we are making him a ward of the state.  Neither my sister nor I want to be responsible for him.  The decades of abuse that continues even now over the phone has ruined that for him.  He can be a number in the system.

It’s obvious to me he’s angry that we expressed our concern, he’s angry that we think he’s not “all there” but he’s not.  He has wicked aphasia, his short term memory sucks, his ability to make proper choices for his health care sucks as evidenced by the fact he needed an emergency amputation on a Sunday night.  That he was. and continues to be severely malnourished.

At least now I know that unless his rights are revoked I will be getting a call sooner or later that my abuser, my father, my daddy is dead. He’s all those things to me.  I have very complex feelings about him. I realize it’s not me, but that beautiful 4 year old inside of me whose heart is broken over his words because again they echo what she’s always known- she’s not enough.  Not enough to make him want to live. She’ll never be enough.  I’ll never be enough.  

On the worst days, the days when I think scratching isn’t enough and maybe I want to die my kids they’re the first things that keep me here, then my husband, my sister, my brother, my mom, my stepfather, my friends.  They are enough.  

All I can say is my mom better go gently into that good night, doing this once was enough.