Let’s Do This Shit, People! (Or Operation Brimley Crusher: Week Two)

08 May

This is probably going to be a lengthy post. I have had a lot on my mind and therefore, have a lot of things to talk about this week. Since I will jibber-jabber quite I bit, I think I will start off with this week’s highs and lows, then elaborate on those as they apply to the loosely planned jibber-jabbering. Last week I called my updates “this week’s lows” and “this weeks moments of awesome”… I needed something less boring for lows so I have decided to call my lows “moments of sucktitude”. Sound good? Rad! OK, here I go…

This Week’s Moments of Sucktitude:

Although I did really great with food this week, I struggled with sweet tooth and junk food cravings a lot more than I did the week before. It made me anxious and crabby. I struggled with a bit of anxiety and depression this week as well. When I have disagreements with my son or husband I feel less able to brush shit off. I do realize the cravings and anxiety/depression are not unrelated. I am finding it difficult to see/celebrate this week’s progress.

I keep catching myself falling into the over doing it trap. Sometimes, even after almost eight years of dealing with the aftermath of Ramsay Hunt Syndrome/having a disability, I forget that just because I want to be able to do something, doesn’t mean I can do it. I ended up on the couch all day Friday and Saturday because I got ahead of myself with the gentle yoga. I ached and slept and slept and ached. I may have cried a little too. I most definitely swore a lot.

This Week’s Moments of Awesome:

I got out Sunday with a couple of my BFFs; first brunch with one, and then pedicures and dinner with another. It was really great to get out and it reminded me that I do feel better when I am interacting with my friends. Despite the wrestling with anxiety I have been doing, I realized that I am feeling better this week. That general unwell feeling that brought me to the doctor a few weeks ago is starting to go away. This makes me feel like I am doing something right with my diet.

My stamina is building a bit and I am feeling pretty good in aqua aerobics again. I feel like I can get up to an hour of light exercise a day and yoga at least three days a week if I pace myself properly and stay diligent. I have been needing naps every day again, but hey, naps are rad.

This Week’s Progress:

I lost 1.6 pounds this week. I was disappointed in that number at first but then reminded myself that my weight loss goal set on My Fitness Pal is 1.5 pounds a week. Nailed it! That is 9.7 so far… I like that number.


So about this jibber-jabber… I have been stuck in my own twisted head a lot this week. This is not a good thing. It is pretty dark and freaky in there. As I mentioned, I got to spend time with two of my best girlfriends on Sunday. It was like a balm for my demented little soul. But it also brought up some thoughts that I wanted to mention here. First and foremost, I cannot stress how important it is to spend some time with people who really love you when you are feeling down. Not family. Friends. You know that old adage “friends are the family you choose”? It is true. Your family loves you, but your family also comes with a metric fuck ton of expectations and baggage (at least mine does). I have had some surprisingly shitty reactions to the news of my type II diabetes diagnosis. I am not going to get into details or particulars about it, but I will say that every one of these reactions came from a family member.

The reason I say that it is important to spend time with friend’s is because these are people who choose to spend time with you and choose to love you. Seeing yourself through the eyes of someone who has chosen you as a friend is quite different than seeing yourself through a family member’s eyes. The overwhelmingly positive response I have received from my friends regarding this blog and my news has been incredible. But sitting and talking with my two friends in person for the first time since all this started three weeks ago was fucking amazing. Ladies, you know who you are and I can’t thank you enough. You are both so very special to me and I don’t know what I would do without you.

Of all the things that I gained/learned from these refreshing visits, the biggest was the realization that I probably appear to be much braver, and stronger than I really feel I am. I mean, I sit down once every seven to 30 days (sometimes more often, sometimes much less) and I spill my guts all over a blank screen. When I have purged enough, I copy all the words I puked out from a Word document, and then paste them into my WordPress blog. Then I hit “publish”. I rarely even take time to edit these posts because the more I read them, the less comfortable I feel about putting them up. I know that people are going to read them. I know that people I know are going to read them. For the most part I enjoy the conversations and comments they spark on Facebook. But even thought I know people are going to read what I write, I am still thrown off when someone mentions my blog to me in real life, face to face land. I still feel embarrassed sometimes.

The truth is that I don’t think saying what I say on this blog makes me brave or strong. It makes me feel vulnerable. This is a tool that I use to work through my thoughts, to keep myself honest, and to hopefully help others who are struggling with the same shitty shit I am struggling with. I don’t feel strong. I don’t feel brave. In fact, I am terrified! I am afraid of living the rest of my life in a body that I hate. I am afraid of being seen as unattractive; I am afraid of being alone, I am afraid I am not smart enough, talented enough, funny enough, healthy enough, or good enough. I am afraid I am a shitty mother. I am afraid I am a super shitty wife. I am afraid all of the time! Like enough that it is pretty damaging. My fear holds me back. My fear is what got me into the mess I am in with my weight. Fear has dictated my life for almost two decades and I am so fucking sick and tired of it I am just overwhelmed.

Talking and writing and thinking are the three things that I know I am good at. They are the only tools I feel confident using. They are the only tools I know how to use. So I use them. That is all this is. Me employing the only tools I really have to get through the hardest things I have ever tried to tackle in my life. If I inspire anyone, or help someone by doing so, I would be thrilled by that. But know that I have all the same hurts and fears that anyone else has (probably way fucking more). I guess what I am saying is that if I can do this shit then so can you. Yes, you! You can wrestle your problems like the dirty little bitches that they are too! Let’s do this shit people! Are you with me???


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Riding the waves of dual-diagnosis as a parent.

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