The fatter I feel. I look down on my grotesque lump of a mid rift and I shudder. The number on the scale is going down excrutiatingly slowly, but I dont believe it anyway.
I’m fat, outta shape and ugly., and let’s be honest, I’m a drug addict.
I’m getting no help over here, and I have no one to talk too
I’m struggling to keep afloat. Today i purged at work, AT WORK and again after dinner at home. I then hit the gym already exhausted but the usuál mantra of run fatty run overode all my senses, so I ran.
!The crash is coming. I’m losing control. My chest is tight and I’m often oddly breathless.
I need help
A few days ago, I blamed this on drug withdrawal, but I was wrong. I’ve since recieved my correct meds, but the nausea has persisted.
My little jaunt to the gym today hasn’t helped I’ve not worked out in days, it was worrying me. So today, I pushed through the feelings of sickness, lightheadedness, and utter fatigue
JUST 10 MORE Kcal LOOPY, COME ON FATTTY; 10 MORE!!!! So 10 became 100, and then 150, and then 300. I was in no fit state for this, but in the war between my body, and my mind….my mind won out.
Now home, I’m wondering is it just a mundane bug that will run it’s course soon, or is it much more serious. I’m catastrophising, but I’m on a heck off a lot of pills; some prescribed, and some not Are my liver, pancreas or my kidneys crying out for help.
The scales, by the way have finally dipped below 57kg. 56.9 to be precise, but is this actually a win, or is my body slowly giving up.
It’s the new year and for many off us, that means RESOLUTIONS. Most of these will centre around health and fitness goals.
That can only mean one thing. Crowds of women flocking to gyms, squeezed into lycra. Don’t get me wrong, I admire their gusto. Today I sweat amongst them. But OH dear Lord!! I wish this lycra fad would end. I’m blind as a bat, but even my eyes gasped at the muffin tops and camel toes!!! I dread to think what someone with 20/20 vision would be subjected to.. Having said that, keep it up ladies, may 2020 bring you fitness and good health.
I’m starting the year at 59.15 kg. It’s a figure that does not sit well with me. I’m sporting muffin tops off my own. I feel grotesque. I can sense a working out frenzy coming. I don’t do things by half, it’s not in my black and white nature.
Let’s hope I can stay in control. Gym sessions, will at least, reduce my need to purge.
I’ve just read my last post, and it’s hard to imagine that’s how I felt just days ago. Switching from utter despair to my present uplifted buoyancy is exhausting, but the good days keep me afloat.
Yesterday was a good day, a great day in fact. I went to meet my new boss, and I had a tour of where I’ll be working. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming. It was really really nice to feel that sense of professional loopy again.
I finished off last night with an endorphin boosting gym session.
I’ve not yet been cleared to start by Occi Health but I’m a little more hopeful.
Last night at the gym, I hit play on my “insane” playlist. These were the tunes that I had listened to daily whilst confined to a psych ward.
As I pumped hard on the cross trainer my mind travelled back to that place and honestly I longed to be there again. Just for a night or two, just to get a break from reality and life. Just to be surrounded with amazing support staff and nurses who care and listen, and nurture.
There are some I’d love to chat with again, some I need to tell me off, and others I just want back in my life.
I can see why people, go in and out. I can understand the desires to self harm sufficiently to be ‘re-incarcerated.” I can understand why in lieu of a proper suicide attempt, it could be tempting. It could be one more try at finding the help you need.
Just a few nights to escape, to force me to give up sleeping pills, to ban me from self harming and comfort me while I do.
Not going to happen though
The heart is a muscle, and a frigging impressive one at that. It beats relentlessly, never tiring or straining. It’s muscle cells have more energy (ATP) factories (mitochondria) than any other cells, and it’s plumbing is phenomonal. Tonight I put mine through its paces.
Tonight I tried with all my might to hit my max heart rate. I topped out at 185, just 2 beats short. I was hot, sweating and pumping my legs as hard as I could, but I failed. In reality it’s possible 185 is my max, as 220 minus your age is just a guide really, but I’m still gutted I couldn’t hit it.
This angst, and anxiety and just general twitchiness is proving really hard to cope with. Even my Mum has noticed; “jeez there’s a steer on you this evening!”
She’s here at the moment, but honestly I kind off wish she wasn’t. I desperately want to burn.
The weather has dipped, and you know what?, so has my mood. I’m tired, but twitchy, which is odd I shall induce sleep soon.
Tonight I hit the gym for the first time since my crash. I could hold it off no longer. The inability to excercise has been incredibly frustrating. I can’t afford to rest too long or the weight will creep back on.
Tonight was a test of what my hip and back could handle. The limp home suggests, just a little less than I put them through. I was sensible, sticking to low impact machines, at a lower resistance than normal. I couldn’t wait to get on the spin bike, but the pain induced bolt upright position that I had to hold, suggests it will be some time yet before I’m road worthy.
And oh god I needed it!! I’m so grateful right now for the constant gentle supportive nagging that I’ve had about finding hobbies again. I totally forgot how much I used to enjoy judo and how much fun it is to chuck 15st dudes around. Tonight’s class was all wrestling; proper wrestling!
Let’s face it, these things tend to be male dominated and you know what? That’s part of the rush. I’m 5 ft 3, and currently weigh 55 kg, and I’ve just spent an hour grappling with guys twice my size.
I got floored several times and my flat chested fried eggs, are now pancakes!, but it was awesome.
Last night I had hit rock bottom, and cried a flood before bedtime, but tonight, I’m feeling rather elated. I’m going to be bloomin sore tomorrow.
“So what are you going to do today?” This is a question I guess I’ve come to expect.
Think fast Loopy!; “umm I’ll probably go to the gym after lunch”. In truth I had no intention of going to the gym today. I was going to go to bed. I don’t like lying though, so I went to the gym! I’m glad the question was posed and I’m glad I turned my lie into a truth.
It was good; bust my lungs on the rowing machine good, burned a shed load of calories good, released some happy chemicals good.
I’ll go again tomorrow.
Today was about getting back on track. I’ve had a troubled few days, but I’ve hit the reset button, and am ready to start looking after myself again.
I visited a friend today. I talked in an earlier blog about the temporary friends you make when you’re in a psych hospital, but I failed to mention that I also made a keeper. I visited her today. Chatting with her helped me to gain some perspective. I can recognise disordered thinking in others. It’s as glaringly obvious as a bright sun in clear blue skies. This friend of mine, is someone who has no idea how beautiful she is both inside and out, and unfortunately it’s slowly destroying her. Someone made a comment to her today; “you’re looking really well.” My friend gave me an insight into the hell that is body dysmorphia, because this well meaning comment equated to “You’ve gained weight” By the time I saw her at lunchtime, she’d done 60,000 steps. I wish I could help her, but I can’t. I also need to tread a little carefully as I have a habit of taking on other peoples baggage.
Seeing her though has made me thankful that I’m out, and made me determined to work a little harder on finding the right path to better mental health.
I’ve just come back from the gym and it has made me feel good this evening. Now if only I could stop my mirtazapine…………