Random observations from the journey to better health

Sometimes I'm guilty of waiting until the "perfect" post has crystallized in my head before I come here to create a journal entry and I think that's part of the disease I'm working to overcome, so I'm challenging myself for today just to write and not worry about being eloquent or even coherent...hope it makes some kind of sense.

First, I started Wellbutrin on Friday morning directly after my appointment with my primary care physician. Among the highlights from the appointment were the fact that my blood pressure is now high (it was fine at my appointment in February) and that I've regained nearly every pound I lost at the beginning of the year.

OK, so neither of those items is good news. However, I just can't beat myself up and jump on the "let's go all medieval on losing weight again...screw mindfulness, I just want to be thin" bandwagon, much as part of me is screaming to do so. I think in some ways a slower, more deliberate pace as I work through the mental issues that have been the primary reason for my excess weight for 24 years is in itself a critical part of the journey for me. I have to be quiet and still for a while (not literally - I'm still walking 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week), feel the pain and anguish that comes with the extra weight, and then listen for the lesson I need to learn. It's not that I won't do anything...but I know that I can't just "go do", that being willing to be uncomfortable - downright miserable, if you want to know the truth - and still stay with the process instead of diving into "diet and exercise, diet and exercise" is what will eventually lead me to wholeness. (Yes, much of this is a response to the reading I've been doing, particularly Savor and When Food is Love.)

So, after my appointment, I called my mum for our daily natter on my way to work and, as I was telling her all of the reasons I'd carefully decided to go on an antidepressant, she piped up with, "Have you thought about the Lap Band, Denise?" Had there been a buffet set out in front of me at that point, I would have had one of each but instead I just took a deep breath before continuing to explain why I'm going the antidepressant route. I am so sad, though, that my own mother can't understand that tying something around my stomach so that it's smaller and I feel full faster isn't going to make the crazy in my head go away. I can diet. I can exercise. I can lose weight...but I can't keep it off and I can only seem to do it while I'm in a manically negative mindset about my body and my extra fat. And the size of my stomach isn't going to change any of that. A year after surgery I'd be right back on my way up the scale - albeit probably slower than in previous attempts - and still trying to figure out why I can't seem not to binge eat. Why does my mother always know just how to push my buttons???

Finally, we harvested our first blackberry from our garden plot yesterday. I'm told by our aspiring horticulturist (Alcott's older brother) that it was a perfect specimen of blackberryness, and that's a source of great pride to both of us. Additional signs of progress in the garden include: pea pods on both the edible peas and the Sweet Pea bushes, little buds on the green bean bushes that will - with any luck at all - turn into beans, one of the corn plants has got the first cob starting to grow at its center, and the lone pumpkin plant has started to grow (finally). I also just read that you're not meant to water eggplant much, nor fertilize it at all...would have been good to know before I fertilized the heck out of them. We've adopted an abandoned artichoke in the community garden, too, and my horticultural apprentice says it's a sign that we're meant to expand our growing empire to another plot. (I think not.)

God, I'm tired. I don't know if it's the Wellbutrin or just the season or what, but I've been having trouble staying awake during the day and that's a real bummer. I decided to take the pill first thing in the morning because the literature says it's likely to cause insomnia, so I figured I'd avoid that by not taking it at night, but perhaps that wasn't the right strategy. We'll see.

I know there was something else I was going to write about, but I'm tired and my daily walk with co-workers is coming up in 15 minutes, so I need to hit "Publish" and then start getting ready. Ciao, bellas!


Maybe your mother means well. (I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but Mom's are notorious for pushing buttons.)

I'm glad someone's garden is bearing fruit. Mine is looking sad. :)
MargieAnne said…
Mother's, those wonderful people who want us to be perfect. Gotta love them.

I was talking with my Mum a few days ago about a period in our lives when I needed help, mainly with the housework and children, and she still wants to insist I had a nervous breakdown. I'm not saying my illness had nothing to do with stress ... it was a seriously sad/bad 3-4 years in many ways, but somehow I developed what has become known as ME or Fatigue Syndrome and most Drs. in New Zealand don't want to know about it even now, so it was many years before I was diagnosed and given some advice to improve my health. All history but I do wish my mother would accept the facts. Bless her.

Believe in yourself. I'm sure you know the best way to live well.
gingersnapper said…
Mothers know how to push one's buttons because they INSTALLED them.

I can't know whether WLS is the "right" choice for any person, but I do think you are right to deal with the crazy in your head first. See, you're not very crazy because you're making a smart, rational decision about that :)

Sorry about all the stress you mention in the next post, it sounds like you are in for a rough time for a while. Try combining that Wellbutrin with quaaludes and wine, that should help a lot.

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