3/19/07

Menopause hasn’t even hit me, yet.
I’m 38; hopefully I’ve got a few more years
perhaps a decade or so more before I
morph into a different phase of my life.

Yet, somehow I feel obsolete already.
Invisibility is the best way to express
how I feel and how I think the world
perceives me.

Useless.
Obsolete.
Invisible.
Burdensome.

I spent the first 15 years of my life
adapting and conforming, to survive
my family environ. Be someone
other than who I am, just to fit in,
just to be noticed; and in doing so
my fleeting childhood and teen years
disappeared.

I spent the next 15 years of my life
floundering while trying to remain
attractive or magnetic for men. Men,
who in turn used me for their own gains.
Me, a need, to someone else’s end.

Impoverishing my bankbook and my soul.

Useless.
Empty.

The next 15 years should be, or should
have been years nurturing a child, my
child, and in doing so, repair my inner
child, and re-experience childhood,
experience things I should have
experienced in the first place.

Instead I am in a no woman’s land
Fertile? Infertile?
Menopause? Perimenopause?
Useful vs useless.

On the precipice of invisibility and oblivion.

And no one gives a shit about it, but me.

I can’t wait for the day when I just
surrender, when I just don’t care anymore,
because honestly, this struggle,
this fight, these demons
are the only things I truly own.

Alabama Vibrating Veggie Tales

On Being Criminally Fat

Inspiration for this post (which also was posted as a comment elsewhere): Obese child deemed victim of neglect.

Obesity = neglect = crime?

Let's bust up a loving family because their only crime is that their child/ren is/are fat.

Question: Why are more people not up in arms about the implications of this?

Genetics (MY Vast-Sweeping Over-simplification):

Face it. Some kids are (either knowingly or unknowingly) genetically prone to getting fat. Yes, skinny parents can have a fat child. Recessive genes anyone? Yes, fatness, just like blue eyes, are recessive, inheritable traits.

The Fat Man's Economics--The Cliff Notes version:

Let's take a look at the economics of it. Some folks who subsist primarily of fatty cuts of meat or carb laden foods because it's inexpensive, and they cannot afford healthier foods. (Freshman 15... Top Ramen... anyone?

I know from first hand experience what "government subsidized foods" are like. Gubm'nt cheese anyone? [ED: Oh and by the by, "da cheeze" is greasy, fatty and binding, and decidedly NOT health conscious!]

It's not a stretch to suggest that the same parents who could not afford leaner cuts of meat, or scads of fresh fruits or veggies, cannot afford gastric bypass surgeries for their kids. Hell, this article about a little boy who died because of a toothache/abcess and his family couldn't afford proper medical care is another indication of what's wrong with our society.

Add to the genetics, the economics and the environmental, you've got a health crisis on your hands.

Obesity---------->= crime?

As laughable or inconceivable as it may seem, Child Protective Services taking away children who are obese due to some perceived notion of neglect (let's face it, children can be willfull as all get out, despite the very best intentions of their parents), I don't like the message it's sending.

What about our Fourth Amendment to Privacy in our homes?

Ever see this "surveillance campaign" over at ACLU, where it uses the premise of ordering a pizza? It's only a matter of time before obese people are taxed or otherwise penalized* for their girth, and I am not implying merely higher medical insurance premiums, either.

*See Eugenics

The Fat Man's Future: MY Hypothesis

How is governmental interference and intervention on behalf of obese children not Eugenics? From that link on Wiki:

[...]Historically, eugenics has been used as a justification for coercive state-sponsored discrimination and human rights violations, such as forced sterilization of persons with genetic defects, the killing of the institutionalized and, in some cases, genocide of races perceived as inferior[...]

NOW! WITH MORE HYPERBOLE!:

What is next? Rounding up all the fatties, Stepfordizing the rest, and relaunch "New! And Improved! Soylent Green! NOW WITH HALF THE CARBS!

"IF"

Mental Health Day

Has anyone ever "Called In Depressed?" If I had balls, that is what I would have done instead of copping out and saying, "I feel dizzy."

Email Exchange With Sis

From Sis:

HEY HOW ARE YOU

I AM NOW WORRYING ABOUT YOU

I THINK YOU NEED TO EVAL ALL THOSE FINDINGS WITH YOUR PRIMARY, IREALLY THINK HE MAY BE OVERDOING IT. HE SEEMS TO BE TREATING THE SIDE EFFECT OF ONE MEDICATION WITH ANOTHER MEDICATION.

I JUST AM SO TIRED WHEN I GET HOME I CANT EVEN CALL, I REALLY MEAN TO I LAY DOWN WITH BABYGIRL AND AM SOUND ASLEEP EVEN BEFORE SHE IS NEXT THING I KNOW IT IS LIKE 4AM.

I MISS YOU AND SO DOES BABYGIRL, THE LETTER OF THE WEEK IS S SO SHE SAYS "LIKE AUNT S." I AM STILL RECOVERING FROM THE HERNIA SURGERY. I AM SO AFRAID TO DO CERTAIN THINGS, I NEVER WANT TO HAVE ANY TYPE OF SURGERY LIKE THAT AGAIN

WORK IS WORK, NOTHING NEW WITH THAT. NOTHIN NEW WITH [HUBBY]

ARE YOU COMING DOWN FOR EASTER PLEEEEEASSSSEEEEEE!!!!! I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE AN EASTER EGG HUNT, AND YOU CAN HELP BABYGIRL AND I MAKE A BUNNY CAKE..........

I HOPE YOU AND [HUBBY]

ARE DOING OK, I AM FAT AND OLD AND SLIGHTLY DEPRESSED

SO HOW IS YOUR DAY GOING?

SIS

From Me:

Why worry? The eczema hasn't changed, and I go for regular mammos, and nothing turns up with them, other than our lumpy boobs we inherited from mom. No change, no discharge, just an insane itch at times.

If you're fat and old... what does that make ME? I'm soooo relating to what you're going through. And the depressed, shit... I feel like a failure most of the time, and the rest of the time I feel like a loser who just wants to be loved and no one knows how to love me.

IS THIS WHAT MID-LIFE IS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE? [I'm 38, She's 37]

I'm hoping that once I go thru a sleep study to address the snoring and what I suspect is apnea, and once I get myself properly oxygenated while I sleep, and hopefully start to get some restorative sleep... maybe I'll start feeling better.

I thought once [HUBBY'S] his parents went back home, I'd start to feel a bit back to normal, or at least "normal for me," and to be honest, I have no energy for anything. If I miss my Lexapro by a day or two, I start the crying jags all over again.

I am sure the bitter cold weather is not helping matters.

My specialist talked with me about how I'm feeling and especially the feelings of depression and failure... and he told me not to be so hard on myself. That PCOS brings a lot of emotional baggage, and for me not to be so hard on myself about not losing weight... it's an uphill battle.

I can intellectualize what he said, but still, I just want to spend my time curled up in a ball.

[HUBBY] doesn't really help matters either.

I know he loves me. (Why ELSE would he be with me?) Yet...

I know he's incapable of loving me how I need to be loved. If I think about this too long, I'll just start to cry at my desk here. I love him. He loves me. But ... there should just be "so much more." My life is really lacking. And I just wish there were a way for me to figure out what it is I'm supposed to be doing. I wish I could just gain some control of this.

As far as the overdoing it with medications... I'm really not on that many meds. I'm on my metformin (2500 daily), my quinaretic in the a.m., my quinapril in the p.m., and my lexapro. So he's changing me from the regular meformin to the XR, and adding something for the triglycerides because of his concerns of my fatty liver syndrome.

I know next time I see him, he's no doubt going to send me to a renal guy [due to elevated uric acid level], and perhaps back to Mt. Sinai for another abdominal ultrasound with their liver & pancreas specialist. I'm fairly confident I am going to the right guy for what ails me. And somehow... getting pregnant isn't that big of a motivator for me.

I can't seem to get motivated to lose the weight. I'm at a standstill. And honestly, I just don't have it in me to try the next great thing to see what works.

I just feel blah. Unloved. Lonely.

I better quit typing about it... or else I'll start sounding like dad...

Regarding Easter... I should be down. [HUBBY], eh... well you know him. It was a big deal for him to come down for the xmas party. And I won't force him. I just wish that one day he'd wake up and realize that his attendance isn't for others.... it's for me. I didn't get married to do things alone, and damnit if that's what I'm doing... being alone.

And I have just about shut down at home. All I want to do is sleep. I feel neglected in general, after almost six years of marriage I feel like I'm married to a stranger who doesn't know me, and I know he feels neglected by me.

And somehow I gotta keep everything afloat by myself... mercifully I don't have to worry about keeping things afloat financially... but still...

there's got to be so much more to this... isn't there?

Somehow I Have To Crap Out 10-15 Lbs, I Just Know It

Monday I go back to the specialist.

Been struggling with my depression and motivational issues.

Haven't been on any type of "diet."

Been laxe at times about my evening medications (regret this in the a.m., with the pounding headaches).

Don't know if it's the depression/blues talking, but I wonder if my lack of motivation, actual RESENTMENT about the notion of diet and exercise, is an indication that I simply do not have THAT strong of a drive to become pregnant. I'm very l'aissez-faire about it. "If it happens, it happens." What a cop out I've been feeding myself, no?

I need to schedule a sleep study. I hope getting what I suspect is apnea, diagnosed and treated (with CPAP), hopefully will help.

It's hard to be motivated to do ANYTHING. Bathe. Get dressed. Get out and do SOMETHING. When you do not wake up refreshed and renewed in the morning.

Fortunately, I have a job, and that's the excuse I convinced myself of, that is the impetus for me to get up, bathe, dress myself, and get out and do SOMETHING, to interact with others (even on a minimal level). The weekends however, are a crap shoot.

I am my own worst enemy.
Days like this, I feel like such a loser.
Doesn't matter what else I've accomplished prior to today. I feel like such a loser.

Post-Coital Tears

Dialogue:

Me: Did you remove your condom towards the end?
Him: Yes.

~Silence~

Me: Yanno in 23 years of my fucking career, I worried endlessly about getting pregnant...

~More silence~

*Tears*

Me: ... imagine that. Worrying endlessly for 23 years, for it all to be moot.

Sidenote: Time to take my happy pills...

Reprieve

Appt with specialist postponed from 1/15 to 2/19 (I think!). Washington's birthday, whenever that lands...

Fat Food... I MEAN Fast Food Nation

Fat Farms

12/18 Crotch-a-cologist Appt

Total poundage lost: 3
BP: 110/80 (I'd be happier if the 80 were 70)

Apparently, I've got a sourdough starter in my squishmitten.

Discussed babymaking.

AGAIN.

Discussed changing blood pressure medication to N*rvasc rather than Ald*met, and discussed that once/if I get knocked up, I have to go on blood thinners, to prevent miscarriage, due to my FVLM.

After having the in-laws in my home, as "adult children" as it were, and being frustrated with that, I'm beginning to wonder if having a child is really the best thing for me, OR the child.

Next Visit With Specialist, 1/15

Next visit: 1/15
Next time I'll be available to get my bloods done: 12/26

Perhaps it's cutting it close?

Honestly, I don't care anymore.

Mood: Ranging from ambivalent to belligerent.

On My "Dirty" Neck

No, it's not dirt.
No, I'm not allergic to my gold necklace.
It's 22K, who the hell is allergic to pure gold??

Thanks for drawing more attention to my acanthis nigricdans on the back of my neck.

I guess I should be happy. At least I didn't get yet another belly pat or belly pinch.

Who'dathunkit?

Everyone in my house has gained 10-15 pounds.

Everyone EXCEPT the "resident fatty," me.

Hah!

After Two Weeks: Stop L*pitor

Muscle aches.
Bone aches.
Joint aches.

Massive, three day headache.

Stopped.

Taking low dose aspirin, 81 mg, and drinking low sugar grape juice.

Let's see what my blood work shows in December, as it will be one full month of aspirin and grape juice therapy in an attempt to lower my cholesterol and boost my good cholesterol.

On Arrogance

I've been dealing with the full-on effects of PCOS since around 1990.

Diagnosed, officially, in 1999.

Currently, I am paying top dollar to go to an endocrinologist well known, in the forefront of study for PCOS. Paying out of pocket for his office visits, as he does not accept medical insurance.

I have faith in him that he is not over-prescribing medication for me. I have faith in his judgement that the medications I am on will assist me in (hopefully) not becoming my mother, health wise.

So I find it a bit arrogant and presumptous of you, who has been staying in my home, MY HOME, even though it feels like home TO YOU, it is MY HOME, to voice your opinions about my five pill bottles of medication. And then to have the temerity to suggest that I should "wean" myself off my meds, because YOU feel uncomfortable about them.

I am sorry, but my response is a deep, resounding NO THANKS.

If I stop taking my blood pressure medication, in time, I am sure I will have a stroke or a heart attack.

If I stop taking my metformin, which has been holding me, insulin wise, in a holding pattern, I will no doubt morph into Type II diabetes.

If I stop taking my L*xapro, I probably would either kill myself or you -- Take your pick.

And lastly, just because you do not see what I eat daily, does not mean that I am gorging myself on fried chicken and waffles or Luther Burgers, and drinking regular soda and milk shakes. Just because you do not see the six or seven blocks I walk during lunch, or how when I go shopping, I go down every single aisle, or run about ten different errands a day to keep our household running... Step the fuck off.

You wanna do something constructive towards my overall health? Don't stress me out. Perhaps I could get off my L*xapro or my blood pressure pills if I could manage my stress properly, which obviously I cannot do myself.

Or how about you paying for me to go in for abdominal reconstruction surgery so I can get some of this fat, which I am sure I never will be able to burn off myself, lopped off my midsection.

Now THAT, THAT is something constructive.

In the meantime, STFU.

Takes More To Be An Anorexic Than This...

Just like it takes more than donuts and Big Macs to be obese...

Note To Self: Won't Someone Donkey Punch My Ovaries?

Note to self, or more specifically, "Alice B. Toklas," (pictured herein) and her counterpart, Gertie (short for Gertrude Stein, not pictured), aka my malfunctioning fluster-cucked ovaries:

You WILL NOT ruin my up-coming vacation by surprising me with a sudden onset of "It's a Small Bloody Clotty Crampy Bitchy World, Afterall."

If needed, I will forcibly remove you BOTH, by myself, with a rusty razorblade and rinse you both out with a bottle of Campho-Phenique, and cauterize you with a disease-laden, half-smoked ciggy snatched from the syphilitic mouth of a local hobo. Then! When I'm done with you, you'll be tossed out of my car, wrapped in a 7-11 Big Bite wrapper, a la John Wayne Bobbitt's lopped-off shweenus, and hopefully eaten by a rabid, feral dog.

You both have been warned, you useless pieces of crap!

Don't F*** With Fat Folks -- We'll Eat Your Children