Ruminations

On the difficulties of improving oneself.


My therapist once told me that my inability to stick to my goals could be due to me comparing myself to others. After some retrospection, I realized that I was comparing myself to my past self far more than I would to others.

I remembered that conversation because of a tweet in which people were talking about what their 16 year old self would think of their present self. My past self would be both disgusted and disappointed with present me. I have become everything I once hated.

I’m unable to start anything because I’m terrified of failing. I hate how broken my body is. I hate that I can’t control my eating disorder. I hate that I’ve become reliant on my hubby to survive and most of all I hate that I don’t have a career. Or a degree.

Now the therapist might say that these things are beyond my control since I’m sick. But my depression tells me that I’m weak and I should give up because I’m to broken to do anything.

When my health started failing I was very optimistic. I’d do my physiotherapy, take my medication and go to clinic religiously. As I lost motor functions, I’d tell myself “its alright. I can do something else.” And so I did. I kept changing to new interests as I lost the ability to do the old ones. When they put me on steroids and I turned from someone who looks anorexic to someone who was strggling to keep the weight off. I told myself that it was fine. “At least if I’m fat, no one would sexually harass me anymore.” When it eventually got to the point were my body started punishing me when I slept, exercised or ate I could no longer lie to myself.

As the years have gone by and I’ve lost everything I used to be proud of. These platitudes no longer motivate me to better myself. I’m so depressed I can’t even bring myself to eat some days. It all feels so pointless.

Darling is trying to motivate me to exercise and improve my diet. And so I want to try again. But I’m afraid of tearing my muscles or hurting myself. It doesn’t take much these days before my body gets so inflamed that I can only cry in bed as I wait for it to pass. I can no longer tell if that’s an excuse or me voicing a valid concern.

Ruminations

11.2.2021

I’d planned to write yesterday but alas, my arms were a mess. I managed to take a walk around 6 am. It went well. It’s just the aftermath wasn’t so pretty. I came back feeling like someone inserted those needles they use to test for neuropathy into my legs. By nightfall, I couldn’t put weight on my feet without severe pain.

And then I made things worse by cooking and cleaning. So now I hurt from head to toe. The counters in our kitchen are in the low side. So whenever I cook, especially if I’m cooking a few days worth. It can get extremely painful. I’m thinking, that we should make our counters waist height when we build our house to avoid that.

It seems like we really underestimated how badly my body has deteriorated. But no matter, baby steps and I’m sure we’ll find something that works in time.

I also discovered that it’s hard for me not to binge when I’m in a lot of pain. So there was fast food yesterday and today. I’m ashamed of myself. But I understand that with eating disorders you just have to take it one day at a time.

Today I barely got out of bed. The muscles in my legs were extremely tight. And my instep and heels hurt like the dickens. The weird muscle spasms and nerve pains are still going on but it’s not as bad. So maybe I can take a walk tomorrow.

I’ll be really happy if my body recovers enough that I can cook, clean and exercise everyday.

Ruminations

9.2.2021

Today didn’t go so well. I’d hoped that I’d be able to walk this morning. Alas, I woke up with a cluster headache, my hips were a mess and my feet were still numb. Its odd how you can feel different types of pain at the same time.

It seems like my cluster headaches are getting worse. I don’t know if it’s the birth control again or if I need to go and do the surgery on my eyes. Of all the surgeries I may do, this one is the scariest. Since there was a period that I was blind due to a botched eye surgery. I had 3 in all and the last one left me with strabismus. I’ve always been self conscious about it. But the risk of permanent sight loss put me off.

The optometrist mentioned that risks with the newer surgical techniques is much lower. I get muscle spasms and random flashes of light in my eyes that trigger my clusters so I’m tempted. She mentioned that using an eye patch would ease it and for a long time it did but it isn‘t as effective as it used to be.

Diet wise I’m not doing to bad. I didn’t buy any fast food yesterday or today. I drank Malta with my meals and I also drank a few ounces of Coke with 2 packs of spicy tortillas. I didn’t binge which was great. We have planned one fast food day per week in the hope that it’ll help me mentally with the changes I’ve made.

I know from experience that that if I quit cold turkey I rebound and end up putting on more weight than I started with. My max weight is 204 lbs which a lot for my frame. I’m getting some skeletal pain from my posture going off. Since I don’t carry my weight uniforml uniformly. The bulk of it is on my stomach. So it’s lower back pain, hip pain and torso pain. I’m weighing in once a week and my goal is to cook most of my meals. If I can get fast food purchases down to once per week along with my soda intake that would be wonderful.

Here’s to hoping that I can walk tomorrow morning. 🙏

Ruminations

Starting over.

There was a time when I used to update this blog regularly. Following my intention for it to both serve as a retrospective and as a way to keep the people in my life updated.

Over the years, I found myself sinking into depression to the extent that I became apathetic. I’d grown tired of all my efforts amounting to naught because of my broken body.

When I got hospitalized for sepsis back in 2017, the senior doctor suggested I see a psychiatrist. Now, my experience with doctors in that field is terrible. To the point where I find them terrifying. When I mentioned this, he had the psychiatrist come see me on the ward. He turned out to be nice enough, I wasn’t too scared but I wasn’t at ease.
Being around him was a novel experience. A few sessions in and I got diagnosed with major depressive disorder. I couldn’t tolerate the side effects of the antidepressants. Nor the drugs that I’d gotten prescribed for fibromyalgia. So he forwarded me to a therapist to help with pain and stress management. Now she was a lovely lady and I was very happy with her. Treatment went well until she had a family member fall ill and then COVID-19 happened.

I ended up giving up on taking most of my usuusual medication to control the pain and other conditions. Aside from Tramacet for the cluster headaches and Metformin & Dianne 35 for the PCOS.

Christmas last year I found myself having a chat with darling about giving up treatment. I have so many medical issues that it‘s overwhelming. After spending tens of thousands of dollars, my body is much worse and it all seems so futile. Especially when you look at the ever increasing list of diagnoses I’ve gotten over the years.

I used to think that knowing what was wrong would be a great thing since it would mean I could get better. Now I know how naive I was. Aside from the GIST they found doin CT scans of my torso when I had sepsis. Knowing what was wrong hasn’t given me any peace of mind. If anything, its made my mental state worse.

Aside from scheduling a biopsy and tumor removal sometime this year I won’t be bothering with treatment. I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, but honestly, I can’t bring myself to care right now.

Happy New Year y’all.