madermouse's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10/18/02 I'm positively giddy and sickish right now...not to mention delirious with sleep deprivation and double shot lattes and a chocolate covered oreos. Yes, I AM the epitome of perfect health. You see, it seems the beautiful pine and wrought iron bed my mom bought me 3 months ago...well...I'm allergic to it!! I've been taking benedryl every night for 3 months because I'd wake up with my eyes burning, my throat closing up and sneezing fits. I had no idea why this was happening. I"ve also been having nightmares every night for a month or so. Then, lately, I've been having little sleep-apnea attacks...which has never happened to me before. So I told my doc about it and she said "Quit taking benedryl every night!" I guess it can slow down the breathing and relax the air passages and can trigger sleep apnea. To make a long story short (I know...too late for that, right), I haven't taken my benedryl for 4 nights in a row and thus, I haven't slept a wink. Last night was my all time record of 4 hours sleep...so I'm kind of drifting through work on a caffeine and sugar cloud. Well, anyway, I finally put two and two together (yes - it took me long enough), and realized that I'm allergic to my new bed frame. Which is a shame because its gorgeous and sturdy and elegant and I love it. Now I'm going to have to try and sell it and buy something lesser. But I just can't suffer any more. I haven't exercised for two weeks, and I know its because I'm not sleeping hardly at all. I get up exhausted, go to bed exhausted. Anyway, I'm tearing it down into pieces this weekend, and storing it in my office until I sell it. Do you know anyone in the Portland/Metro area who needs a King bed frame? I'd sell it for $500 bucks - that's $100 off for every month that I've owned it! Anyway, enough with the classifieds. But, speaking of classified...I guess I'll lay it all out for you. I'm *officially* 265lbs now. This 10 pounds heavier than my lowest low, (just out of the hospital) and 3 pounds lighter than my highest weight this year (the day I was admitted to the hospital). Paradoxically, I'm both mortified and nonchalant about this weight. Part of me wants to hysterically sob my eyes out and then jump off a cliff to my rocky death for being so fucking lame, for being such a loser. The other part of me says, "Either do something about it, or let it go." I guess that just about sums up my feelings. However, I did notice that I'm starting to avoid looking in the mirror again. I mean, its been coming for awhile now...in little bits and pieces. I started being "too tired" at night to do my usual 40-point naked body inspection before bed. And then in the morning I've been "running late" and unable to glance at myself out of the shower. This is all just bullshit rhetoric, and I know it. Its nothing more than pretty'd up excuses for avoiding my newer, fatter self. So last night I MADE myself stand in front of the full-length and do some soul-searching. As much as I hate to admit it, my body has changed. Until now, I never appreciated how much the exercise I used to do was toning my legs, firming (and raising) my butt, and slimming my hips. I have a lot more loose, bumpy, cellulite skin in my quads than ever before. My torso is fleshier, my stomach bigger (both of them) and the collarbones have retreated back to the depths of my body's pulp. My butt is lower, and some of its former "jiggly-ness" has returned. I cannot flex a good muscle in my bicep anymore. It was hard to look at myself like this. Because it made real all those things I've been thinking in the back of my mind. I noticed I've gravitated towards my baggier clothes again. And a dress I bought new just out of the hospital is now too tight to wear. My face is fuller again...my cheekbones less prevalent. With each of these acknowledgments, a little part of me whimpers, pathetically. I don't know what I'm planning on doing with my "self". I keep having these little fired-up starts and fitful stops that keep me from making any real progress. But as I looked at my body last night, I realize that although I haven't gone much past my fated-263-weight, I have lost a lot of muscle and tone. I haven't been faithful to my exercising like I was in the beginning, and it really shows. I can feel it too - in the way my clothes fit, in the way my breathing elevated when going up a flight of stairs. There is no mistaking that I'm not at my top looking down anymore....I am definitely on the bottom of the hill looking up. I know that the pain of staying the same has to be greater than the pain of changing. But I wonder how far I'll have to go, how unhappy I'll have to make myself, before I do what I need to do. Will I see 300 again? *shudder* God, I hope not. I pray that I can find that intense drive to motivate me to do what I know I must, before I become a snowball rolling downhill. 2:42 p.m. - 10/18/02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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