Perhaps it's the summertime doldrums, perhaps something else entirely. Who knows. I've been struggling with negative thoughts and depression and anxiety for a while. And in a way, I feel like I'm on a sinking ship, and I'm tossing anything and everything overboard just to stay afloat.
Even though I have been pretty good about my little tweaks and rewards, as it pertains to the bevvy of appointments I find myself attending, and make sure I plan something ELSE in that day, something fun or interesting, almost like a lemony sorbet, to cleanse my day, as if the REAL purpose of my being in the city wasn't for the appointment/s, but for something FUN.
I have even thought outside the box at work, and bought a folding chair (like ones you see at sporting events), so I can sit outside for a half hour and get some sunlight and fresh air while I crochet and decompress. In the course of doing so, I have been getting some positive attention, and it breaks up my day (at least on the days I do this, which is to say, I am not doing this EVERY SINGLE DAY). This helps, but not enough.
I haven't gotten to the point where I'm sitting at my desk sobbing silently to myself, but I'm blue. And I feel trapped and the direct opposite of empowered, and this isn't where I wanted to be at this point in my life. I guess this is what a mid-life crisis feels like. I guess.
Now getting back to the sinking ship and tossing things overboard... In line with my philosophy "keep that which is useful, and discard the rest," after careful consideration, I've decided to discontinue going for my annual check ups with the bariatric surgeon. Bottom line is, I'm not getting anything useful out of it, it is a pain in the ass to get there, and while he was a good surgeon, his follow up such as it is, is lacking.
I feel I wasn't adequately prepared for how radically my bathroom habits would change.
I feel his nutritionist (who I dumped first opportunity I could) was outright lacking and judgmental.
I feel I didn't get the best bang for my buck or efforts, as in the end, he never put the mesh around my pouch, maximizing my weight loss.
I feel that he just wants me to shut up, as was evidenced by my last appointment last year, when I said I was depressed, rather than run a full panel on all my vitamin B levels (instead of just my B12), he was too quick to write a Rx for phentermine--which, is contraindicated, due to my hypertension. I feel he wrote that just to shut me up.
As a result of him writing that, I chased my tail yet again, and arranged an appointment last summer to see a psychiatrist, hoping perhaps we could test my neuro-chemistry to see WHAT EXACTLY is "off," rather than jump through a series of hoops, trying, unsuccessfully, one anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication after another, just to be informed "We don't do that." Something so simple, a test vs trying one medication after another, just seems futile and ridiculous, and makes me realize that whatever the solution is, all I know is, it won't be found in a yellow pharmacy bottle.
So, I cancelled my appointment in June--and here it is a month later, and no call, not even an email from the NP (of whom I am chummy).
A sign that I know things are bad for me, mood wise or depression or whatever THIS IS, I want to dump my beloved endocrinologist, who I have seen religiously every quarter of every year for the last eleven years. I feel I am now coasting on fumes until menopause hits. No baby for me. I feel I am an uninteresting patient. And last visit, he mentioned he wanted to see me lose a bit more weight, which of course, I had a triggery type reaction to it. I'm just tired fighting the good fight. I wish I could shake this.
I mentioned this to my husband, and he thinks I am nuts for thinking of dumping the endocrinologist, and suggested to me, instead of going there quarterly, perhaps I should discuss with the doctor the idea of seeing him every six months instead of every three. From a metabolic standpoint, everything seems "managed," no radical changes from appointment to appointment. I was considering rescheduling the August appointment to October, which then would have pushed it to 5 months between visits. I think I'll just get off my duff, get my blood work done tomorrow, and keep my August appointment--as it's also on the same day as my kidney guy.
I'll try to do something productive today, and see if I can find an adrenal specialist, to help me with the elevated cortisol issues, or perhaps some other -ologist to help me with my pain, which is no doubt driving the cortisol to be elevated.
Between my physical pain, and my anxieties about my job, I just wish I could find some measure of contentment, and living a life that matters. Because at the moment, I feel like I don't matter at all.
Even though I have been pretty good about my little tweaks and rewards, as it pertains to the bevvy of appointments I find myself attending, and make sure I plan something ELSE in that day, something fun or interesting, almost like a lemony sorbet, to cleanse my day, as if the REAL purpose of my being in the city wasn't for the appointment/s, but for something FUN.
I have even thought outside the box at work, and bought a folding chair (like ones you see at sporting events), so I can sit outside for a half hour and get some sunlight and fresh air while I crochet and decompress. In the course of doing so, I have been getting some positive attention, and it breaks up my day (at least on the days I do this, which is to say, I am not doing this EVERY SINGLE DAY). This helps, but not enough.
I haven't gotten to the point where I'm sitting at my desk sobbing silently to myself, but I'm blue. And I feel trapped and the direct opposite of empowered, and this isn't where I wanted to be at this point in my life. I guess this is what a mid-life crisis feels like. I guess.
Now getting back to the sinking ship and tossing things overboard... In line with my philosophy "keep that which is useful, and discard the rest," after careful consideration, I've decided to discontinue going for my annual check ups with the bariatric surgeon. Bottom line is, I'm not getting anything useful out of it, it is a pain in the ass to get there, and while he was a good surgeon, his follow up such as it is, is lacking.
I feel I wasn't adequately prepared for how radically my bathroom habits would change.
I feel his nutritionist (who I dumped first opportunity I could) was outright lacking and judgmental.
I feel I didn't get the best bang for my buck or efforts, as in the end, he never put the mesh around my pouch, maximizing my weight loss.
I feel that he just wants me to shut up, as was evidenced by my last appointment last year, when I said I was depressed, rather than run a full panel on all my vitamin B levels (instead of just my B12), he was too quick to write a Rx for phentermine--which, is contraindicated, due to my hypertension. I feel he wrote that just to shut me up.
As a result of him writing that, I chased my tail yet again, and arranged an appointment last summer to see a psychiatrist, hoping perhaps we could test my neuro-chemistry to see WHAT EXACTLY is "off," rather than jump through a series of hoops, trying, unsuccessfully, one anti-depressant or anti-anxiety medication after another, just to be informed "We don't do that." Something so simple, a test vs trying one medication after another, just seems futile and ridiculous, and makes me realize that whatever the solution is, all I know is, it won't be found in a yellow pharmacy bottle.
So, I cancelled my appointment in June--and here it is a month later, and no call, not even an email from the NP (of whom I am chummy).
A sign that I know things are bad for me, mood wise or depression or whatever THIS IS, I want to dump my beloved endocrinologist, who I have seen religiously every quarter of every year for the last eleven years. I feel I am now coasting on fumes until menopause hits. No baby for me. I feel I am an uninteresting patient. And last visit, he mentioned he wanted to see me lose a bit more weight, which of course, I had a triggery type reaction to it. I'm just tired fighting the good fight. I wish I could shake this.
I mentioned this to my husband, and he thinks I am nuts for thinking of dumping the endocrinologist, and suggested to me, instead of going there quarterly, perhaps I should discuss with the doctor the idea of seeing him every six months instead of every three. From a metabolic standpoint, everything seems "managed," no radical changes from appointment to appointment. I was considering rescheduling the August appointment to October, which then would have pushed it to 5 months between visits. I think I'll just get off my duff, get my blood work done tomorrow, and keep my August appointment--as it's also on the same day as my kidney guy.
I'll try to do something productive today, and see if I can find an adrenal specialist, to help me with the elevated cortisol issues, or perhaps some other -ologist to help me with my pain, which is no doubt driving the cortisol to be elevated.
Between my physical pain, and my anxieties about my job, I just wish I could find some measure of contentment, and living a life that matters. Because at the moment, I feel like I don't matter at all.
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