So everyone knows that I work out regularly enough, and that there are a lot of roadblocks that annoy me and stop me from going more often and being more active.
What I talk about primarily is my foot/ankle/hip problems. Y’all get it; that stuff sucks. But I’m medicated and it’s manageable now as long as I take my pills and do my stretches. I just can’t go overboard. I’ve increased the ROM by 15% 🙂
What I want to complain about now is the rut I’m in. Call it depression, or laziness, or working 2 jobs and going to school full time, or whatever. But it’s so difficult to convince myself to go to the gym. I don’t mind working out at home. I have like a bajillion dumbbells and those ball things. I have exercise mats and a jump rope and resistance bands and some other stuff.
But all I can really manage to do at the gym is cardio. I can’t even blame the meatheads, because I don’t care about them and making fun of them in my head gives me strength. So it’s possible that I can do my strength training primarily at home and my cardio primarily at the gym… It’s just difficult to plan/manage. When I get home all I want to do is consume substances that make me forget I’m alive with responsibilities.
Also I hate being such a scaredy cat because there’s a huge, PERFECTLY good trail RIGHT DOWN THE STREET that I never use because people are horrible and terrifying. I have a bike, I like to run, i could even walk, but NO. Fear runs my life because everything is terrible and bad things can happen to anyone and I have a cat to take care of.
So I depend on the gym. It’s scary in its own way. People look at you in the gym. Some will try to convince me that everyone is busy doing their own thing, but that’s not always true.
Since I’ve gotten fat again I only have sweatpants and a few tshirts/hoodies that I can wear because all my cute workout stuff is too small. So I’m the frumpy nobody who looks like I’ve never been to a gym before. Not to mention once I’ve started actually working out. Then my hair is stupid and my face is stupid and people i know go to the gym!
I don’t want people i know there!
Last time i was able to drop 30 pounds (my weight has fluctuated a lot in 15 years which is about normal, i think) we had a treadmill in our basement, which was 20 feet away from my bed. EZPZ. Then running outside was fun, because at that point i lived in a more-flat neighborhood.
This post is just me whining about how ‘hard’ it is for me to go do exercises i enjoy doing.
Also the tennis courts by our house are always taken over, and when we wait there patiently they dont’ seem to care and just keep on tennis-ing forever until we decide to leave. Plus i can only get like 2 people to play tennis with me.
~this was a post~
This isn’t a real blog post. I just didn’t have enough room on Twitter.
Edit: It turned into a blog.
What I wanted to say was:
I always thought it was hilarious growing up how therapists, school counselors, family friends and even some family would tell me that when my parents fought (pretty much everyone knew. They weren’t subtle) that they weren’t fighting over me.
Maybe for a lot of people this is the case: parents usually fight because they take issue with each other.
Growing up in my family dynamics the fighting was almost always because of me. All 4 of my parents fought with all the other parents. The only pair that didn’t fight was my dad and stepmom. Everyone else fought with everyone else. Screaming matches that would end up in someone slamming down a phone or pacing back and forth muttering. Etc.
My own home experiences were slammed doors, objects thrown, awful curses exchanged, sobbing, someone leaving and not knowing exactly where they were going or for how long or to do what….
But so often it was me. I did something wrong and got disciplined in a way that didn’t please everyone. I accidentally gossiped about another parent about something that wasn’t ok to a different parent. Who got custody over me and when. Treatment of me and my weird issues from an early age.
Even with home life one parent was far more strict than the other and one parent far more lenient and protective. That caused almost as many fights as custody and stepparent rifts.
Everyone fought with everyone and it was always my fault. I knew it was my fault. Fighting started after I said something or did something. Wrong or otherwise. So when these well-meaning adults would say “They’re not fighting because of you” I basically just learned early on that people lie trying to make you feel better and nothing is ever ok 🙂 Also: don’t trust.
I’m in a bad, broody mood. Can you tell? Is my honesty showing?
Sometimes when I’m desperate that people know “I used to be skinny, I swear” I’ll often jump right into telling them how when I got my bipolar diagnosis they threw a bunch of drugs at me that made me gain a lot of weight very quickly. Also I started using a steroidal nasal spray (that no one told me not to use every day for 2 1/2 years) around the same time.
My appetite soared, I got more busy with my professional life, I got married and moved out, and suddenly I’m 60-70 (ish? timelines are hard) pounds heaver than I’ve ever been.
Even my fingers got fat. I look at my hands and I have slobby fat person hands. 10% of my clothes still fit, and I’m constantly wondering just how my thighs compare to all the other thighs. Who has the bigger thighs? Life’s biggest question. (I do. Easy answer.)
Now I’m looking at old selfies I had taken back at the weights I wish I still was wondering how the fuck I didn’t just enjoy it (because eating disorders), and I’m realizing that this recovered/fat me just isn’t sustainable.
I don’t know how I’m going to do it, and I’m going to do my best to not fall back into the super-disordered behaviors, but I’m so full of self hatred I could scream. Bipolar made me fat.
Also my school life is shit and work life is hard and personal life is 50/50 shit/hard and I just. And I just.
LESS THAN A WEEK UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY and I don’t feel festive at all. Goddamn life circumstances.
This is my Grampa. ❤
On Wednesday, February 12th, 2014, Pleasanton students in the eighth and eleventh grades connected via Skype to Dr. Fred Kader, a World War II Holocaust Survivor. The Skype connection linked Dr. Kader from The Institute For Holocaust Education (located in Omaha) to Pleasanton High School.
At the age of four he became an orphaned child of the Holocaust in Belguim. Dr. Kader shared his story of being the lone surviving member of his immediate family, being placed in an orphanage, and later found by his uncle. Dr. Kader learned that his family was part of the mass deportation of Jews in Belgium that began in September, 1942. His father had been rounded up with other Jewish men and sent to a forced labor camp in France. His older brothers were deported to a death camp. Kader later found himself with his mother at a rail station in Antwerp, Belgium, where…
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Oh hey hi. It’s been a while. At least it’s been a while since I’ve written a quality post.
Well sorry to disappoint, but it will probably be another while still.
This post is just a random update slash vent-fest.
So jumping right into things: I’m currently in the application/testing process for a new, third job. That’s right: third job. Some of you might remember that my first college degree was focused on medical transcription: the art of trying to discern what those doctors are trying to say. Feet? Hip? Spine? ENUNCIATE. Anyway that’s what this job will be for. I’m not holding my breath for it, because it’s been so long and I’m extremely out of practice. My intention is to go through all my textbooks and have cramming sessions a few times this week to see if I think I’ll still qualify.
The way I see it is: If I get it? Great! More cash money, and it’s a work-from-home gig. If I don’t get it? More free time. Less opportunity for me to go totally bonkers again like I did just a year and a half ago. (I like to think I’m in a better place mentally, but with all the compound mental wonkiness that’s up in my noggin who knows!)
For this new job I’m aiming for part-time, obviously. I already get roughly 65-75 hour work weeks right now (in addition to being in school), so it’s unreasonable to really aim for more.
Especially because I just restarted Kingdom Hearts! Come at me, heartless.
What was I saying? I’m so tired. Did I mention I also started seeing a new therapist? Emotionally raw = always.
Part of me wants to post things that are more important to my brain-o-sphere, but with tensions so high out there… One of my worst fears is internet hate. Please don’t hate me. I TRY TOO HARD.
Wow you can really feel the sleep deprivation in this blog. This is why I rarely post. What are though processes? What is reasoning? What is type?
I’m going to finish this fizzy water do way too many crunches and then fall asleep.