Med Thoughts

I'm in a very post-y mood this week. YOU'RE WELCOME. Maybe it's because I don't have too much work, or maybe because the weight/exercise stuff has been on my mind a lot and I don't really have another outlet for that (other than my T), or maybe I'm just feeling wordy! I saw Dr. P this morning and we talked about the Celexa situation; she basically gave me two scenarios:

1) Taper off. If I feel like I need some sort of confirmation that the med is necessary, I could taper off and see what happens. If I'm fine, I'm fine! If I have a nervous breakdown, then I'll know I still need the drug after all.

2) Stay on my current dose. Maybe I still need the med, maybe I don't. But things seem to be going well for now, so why mess with a good thing?

It's weird because I used to be SO OPPOSED to taking any medication, and then my anxiety spiraled out of control and I very quickly lost all sanity and dignity. After years of flat-out refusing to take anything, I was practically begging my psych to prescribe something. So she did, and I took it, and the anxiety very quickly quieted. Depression, not so much. But like I said before, I am a miserable but perfectly functional Depressed Person. I am not a functional Anxious Person.

So, I am inclined to leave things as they are for now. Things are going relatively well, and anxiety scares the crap out of me. A lot has changed in terms of my life circumstances since that last terrible breakdown in May 2012 when I was first prescribed Celexa, but things aren't perfect and I don't yet trust my brain to stay this okay without a safety net.

Update on the non-weighing thing: still going strong. Still not super interested in knowing the number. Still eating better, exercising less, and overall feeling pretty solid.

EDIT: This is kind of awkward and not related, but someone found my blog by searching "disproportionately big feet." HA! I hope you found what you were looking for, Big-Footed Stranger!

Weightless

Well my period finally came, thank goodness, but sheesh this whole womanly thing is messing with my appetite. I am usually STARVING for breakfast and even more STARVING for lunch (hmm maybe my breakfast needs to be bigger?) but not today, because I am bloated and crampy and have NO appetite whatsoever. My uterus feels like weighs about 60 pounds. If this what pregnancy is like? Minus the period and plus a fetus, obviously?

It has been TWO weeks since I last weighed myself. Progress, right?? It's driving me nuts not to know, and I still have to physically restrain myself each morning from reaching into my cabinet under the bathroom sink for my scale (should probably move that) but overall it has been very freeing. It's really more that I'm scared to know than any grand recovery-minded breakthroughs, but still. Feels better. SOme of the obsessing in my head has quieted down a bit, now that I don't have a constant number in my head. Obviously I'm freaked out that my weight has gone up, but I'll deal. And I just feel lighter—mentally, I mean. My jeans still fit, even with all this period bloat, so that's a good sign.

I'm still on the fence about switching up my medication. After my appointment on Saturday, my psych e-mailed me with a more detailed tapering plan "should I decide to discontinue Celexa," which makes me feel like I should. The drug didn't seem to put much dent in my depression last year, but did wonders for my anxiety. And while the depression certainly made me miserable, but it was the anxiety that made me nonfunctional. Then again, a lot has changed in the two years since I started Celexa, so part of me is feeling kind of cocky about quitting. Plus, there's a teeny tiny part of me that has always wondered if the drug contributed to my weight gain. So wouldn't it be nice to get off it and maybepossiblyhopefully shed a few pounds.

Other stuff: registered for my summer and fall classes. I am SO excited for fall semester; it should be fantastic. And only three weeks left of this semester! Can't wait until summer—meaning, summer weather—is finally here.

Uterus Confusion, Pills, and Insomnia

My reproductive system is really baffling the heck out of me lately. Last month, my period was five days early; this month it's late,although I've been having cramps for almost two weeks. I feel bloated and fat. I've also been having a lot of trouble sleeping, which may be a PMS thing or maybe also due to the weather changes we've been having. Plus MY BOOBS REALLY HURT. However,I'm not that moody or weepy or emotional like last month, which is weird but a-okay with me.

yes, there is such a thing
as "menstruation clipart"

Speaking of mood issues, I saw my psychiatrist Dr. L yesterday for a six-month follow-up. I always forget how much I like her. And I like her even more now that she offers Saturday appointments! We talked about me possible weaning off my antidepressant (Celexa) over the next several months, which appeals to me but also scares me. Still thinkin about it. I don't want to get cocky just because I've been doing relatively well recently, but I also hate hate HATE drugs and don't want to be on it anymore.

drugz

Anyway, I'm having a great weekend despite all the uterus issues. A friend and I got dinner at a great restaurant and then saw a show on Friday night. Yesterday I went for a long beautiful bike ride, spent some time at a coffee shop, and got tons of work done. Then I did some hardcore cleaning so now my apartment is sparkling. I didn't sleep well again last night so I'm feeling pretty sluggish today, but I guess that just means more coffee is in order.

Much love and have a great Sunday, everyone.

"What Suffering Does"

I love this.

"First, suffering drags you deeper into yourself. The theologian Paul Tillich wrote that people who endure suffering are taken beneath the routines of life and find they are not who they believed themselves to be. The agony involved in, say, composing a great piece of music or the grief of having lost a loved one smashes through what they thought was the bottom floor of their personality, revealing an area below, and then it smashes through that floor revealing another area.

"Then, suffering gives people a more accurate sense of their own limitations, what they can control and cannot control. When people are thrust down into these deeper zones, they are forced to confront the fact they can’t determine what goes on there. Try as they might, they just can’t tell themselves to stop feeling pain, or to stop missing the one who has died or gone. And even when tranquillity begins to come back, or in those moments when grief eases, it is not clear where the relief comes from. The healing process, too, feels as though it’s part of some natural or divine process beyond individual control."

From "What Suffering Does" by David Brooks

New York Times Opinion Pages, April 7, 2014

Monday Check-In

Argh. Monday again. Why is it always Monday? Also it's raining. However, I am psyched because my bike got here over the weekend, (shipped from Mom and Dad's house) and I'm excited for the new set of wheels to ride around College City. Although, again, it's raining.

Anyway sorry to be so up-and-down these days, but I am feeling a LOT better since my last post. I think I may have finally accepted that weighing myself does more harm than good, and I need to just STOP.

I had a tricky day Friday food-wise, because I went out with a friend from college right after work. This friend comes from a very overweight family who eats totally differently than the way I grew up (and obviously differently than the way I ate when I was, you know, not eating) and we have completely different tastes, so it is always kind of stressful to go out with her. The original plan had been happy hour and then dinner, which turned into happy hour, appetizers, and THEN dinner, but not until like 10pm. Did I mention that I had skipped my snack earlier that afternoon because I had back-to-back patients at clinic? So by the time I met up with her around 6 and realized that we were just drinking, not eating yet, I probably should have pulled out my snack and eaten it then. Instead, I got drunk on Long Island Iced Teas and pretended to nibble on mozzarella sticks. By the time we got dinner (Chinese food—NOT my choice and NOT an easy cuisine for me) several hours later, I was starving and stressed. I ended up eating an okay dinner, although apparently it wasn't enough because later that night at home, I realized I was hungry again and had to eat a snack around 1 in the morning. So...poor planning on that one.

source

But I still accepted another happy hour/dinner invite the next night, mixed up the exercise by working out with a friend during the day, and had a fantastic time at both. Sounds like progress, right? My body image is still ehhh okay-not-great, but I'm not too hung up on it right now. Stopping the weighing seems to have helped. I think I may have to keep that up.

Happy Monday everyone. If you're anywhere near College City, stay dry!

Icky Body Image

Things are so-so. The not running has been hard. I just feel kind of icky, especially on the days that I don't get much walking in. It's been raining nonstop the past two days here, so I've pretty much been stuck inside on my butt and it's driving me NUTS. And I made the mistake of weighing myself this morning. Did I mention that was a mistake?

I am having a hard time trusting my body these days. After several months of stability, my weight has started inching up again and it scares me. I guess a lot has changed in terms of my exercise (from no running to lots of running back to no running, semi-consistent strength-training, very little walking to lots of walking, etc) and my period has become slightly irregular again over the past couple months after over a year of a metronomic 30-day cycle, so maybe these changes are a sign of something hormonally again? I hate that I've started obsessing about it again SO much. I can't tell how much of this is in my head, but my clothes feel tight and my gut feels bloated and I always seem to feel sluggish and gross. Mentally, it feels like I'm going backwards.

I am trying so hard to have a little faith. Not like God-faith, but faith that I'm doing the best I can, that I am by no means eating too much or too little, that my exercise level is just fine, and that my weight cannot go up forever. That maybe this is still post-ED recovery after so many years of restriction - sometimes hardcore, sometimes subclinical. I need a little faith that my body has already recovered from two major, baffling conditions and thus is obviously super resilient, and that a little more weight is always better than a little less. Right guys? Right? Right?!!?

What I hate most is that otherwise, things are going great. I love my research, I'm excited about my work, and (most of) my classes are awesome. So, I really don't want to let stupid ED stuff get me down.

Following Through

I've been working with this patient at clinic. She is in her fifties and has a number of health problems along with pretty severe anxiety and depression. I also suspect her husband is beating her, but I have no proof - just a gut feeling. She calls my office about twice a week to vent and cry. I am trying to get her set up with some temporary medical coverage and HOPEFULLY (fingers and toes crossed) disability benefits. Unfortunately College State is ultra-conservative and thus pretty stingy with anything that might, like, benefit the populace, but that is a post for a different day. Anyway, I spoke to this particular patient last Thursday about a few questions she had regarding Medicaid and SSI and such but didn't have the answers readily available, so I promised to do some digging and follow up with her the following day. Fast-forward to Friday evening, nearly 6pm, I'm tired and cranky and ready to head home...when I remember that I had forgotten to call her back. I waffle for a few minutes on whether or not she would care or notice, decide that she probably would, and call her back.

After we talked a bit about some specific next steps, she thanked me and said something along the lines of: "It means a lot that you called. Whenever you say you're going to do something, you do it." 

And with other people, I generally do. I do not flake out. I never ask for extensions. I always show up. I am Reliable.

But with myself? It's different. I procrastinate like crazy. I drop the ball. I toss out plans all the time. This is why I never make time for the dentist. This is why I never do PT like I'm supposed to. This is why I still bite my nails, after probably 15 consecutive New Year's Resolutions to quit.

This is why it has taken me so many years to start finally getting over my eating disorder - because all those times I promised to put my health first, I flaked out. Or I didn't even try.

I make commitments to others all the time, and I always follow through. But I probably break more promises to myself than I keep.

I am trying so hard to make this time different. And so far, I'm doing well. I haven't run in over a week, and I haven't cut my intake at all. So, in essence, I have an extra XXX calories to work with each day that I am no longer burning off before breakfast. Yes it's hard and I'm going a little nuts, but it's also kind of liberating. Things are more okay than I expected. I feel kind of icky, but I'll survive. And most importantly, I feel like I'm finally making a commitment and sticking to it because it is the right thing for me and the best thing for  my health. Obviously running X miles a day and limiting my calories doesn't work in any sense of the word, so I'm willing to trust my body for a while, to believe that the amount I'm eating won't make anyone fat, and that my body hasn't had a chance to fully recover in all these years of halfhearted attempts. Time to stand up and follow through.