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Hope everyone has a rockin' night and great year ahead. Peace and much love to you all.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Happy New Year!
Just wanted to pop in and wish everyone a quick happy New Year's! It hasn't really hit me yet, but the years seem to go by faster and faster every time. I'm heading out to a friend's house in a few, but wanted to end the year on a more positive note than my last post ;) And for what it's worth, I really value everyone's thoughts on that—I wrote from the heart (well, more like from the gut) and admitted to feeling some things that I'm not necessarily proud of, but needed to get them out anyway. The only good part about having had a shitty 2012 is that 2013 is bound to be AWESOME in comparison.
Hope everyone has a rockin' night and great year ahead. Peace and much love to you all.
Hope everyone has a rockin' night and great year ahead. Peace and much love to you all.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Anorexia as the Enemy
For a really long time, I never wanted to get better. Sure, it was no fun obsessing about calories and freaking out over restaurants and working out ritualistically. Being hungry sucks. Being tired and weak sucks. Lying to your parents sucks. Shutting out friends sucks. BUT you deal with it. Why? Because being skinny is more important. So for a really long time, I saw my eating disorder as the solution—the one thing that proved I was worthy and capable. I took sick pride in being the skinniest of my friends. I brushed off my parents' worrying and the EKG results because I had the solution.
And then my body started to fall apart. Last winter, I started getting sharp stabbing pains in my pelvis, hips, and back. I couldn't sit. I couldn't walk. I couldn't sleep, but I also couldn't stand to be awake because of how uncomfortable I was. I saw at least twenty different doctors—orthopedists, endocrinologists, gynecologists, gastroenterologists, pain specialists—and they all told me something different. No one had any idea what was causing my pain and what I could do to alleviate it. On top of it, my eyes started deteriorating as well. I'd had dry-ish eyes for the year or so prior, but they got infinitely worse about a year ago to the point where I was barely functioning. I couldn't look at a computer screen for longer than about twenty minutes at a time. I had to stop driving for a while. I saw five different ophthalmologists and nothing worked. I couldn't imagine the rest of my life that way. I cried all the time.
Meanwhile, my weight hovered in the underweight-but-not-scary-underweight realm for about two years. I restricted my intake to a low-but-not-scary-low amount. I was not having periods. Only until this past spring when I got food poisoning and inadvertently lost a few pounds did I go back to hardcore restricting because I figured, what the fuck does it matter? I'm going to be miserable anyway, so I might as well be skinny too.
It was hard to see myself as sick for most of the past two years, because my weight and intake were both well above my rock bottom point in late 2010. But I started having all these crazy symptoms—the nerve pain, the dry eyes, and some GI issues. I had a gut feeling that it was all related, but I guess I was just in denial and thought, like I always had, that being skinny was the answer. It was only until I saw Dr. A last week, and heard him say that of course the anorexia, the longterm amenorrhea, and the associated ongoing stress on my body caused the problems, that it really started to sink in. It wasn't a freak thing or a random gene mutation that caused my pain; it was months and years of accumulated damage.
I have much more hope now than I have in a long time, but I'm also sad. I did this to myself. I essentially wasted a year of my life being hurt and sick and so depressed I wanted to die. Dr. A assures me that the damage is reversible, and that the pain will eventually subside, which makes me happier than anything has in a long, long time. But I am also scared, because I don't know how to shed this part of myself, the anorexia, that has been my solution for so long. Forgive me if this seems dense, but it has taken this long for me to realize: anorexia makes me sick. It hurts me. I've never seen it as the enemy before, but now I do. I cannot have anorexia and be okay. My body can't take it.
Ultimately, I think recovery is going to stick for me this time. I simply can't go through this again. And I don't mean the hunger and the weakness and the ED obsessions—I can handle all that. But I can't go through the pain again. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about whether or not it was a blessing in disguise to have this happen to me, since I seem to have found the ultimate motivation for maintaining my weight. And you know what? It wasn't. I am not grateful for anything that happened. This experience didn't make me a better or stronger person or anything like that; it made me a worse person for a long time. It made me angry and bitter. I was a terrible daughter and a terrible friend. And I've only been hurt for a year. I don't know how people with true chronic pain—like with fibromyalgia or vulvodynia or sciatica—ever learn to cope. When I found myself facing a future of incurable pain, life wasn't worth living.
I've tried so goddamn hard to stay positive throughout all this and be my usual happy silly self, but there's only so much you can fake. Pain changes you; it makes you cranky and ugly and mean. I'm angry that millions of girls have anorexia without suffering through the horrible physical consequences that I have. That millions of girls can get through anorexia with nothing more than a low heart rate and some body image woes. And I'm angry that an otherwise healthy person might wake up one morning with head-to-toe pain and have his/her life changed forever. I know that it's incredibly unfair of me to be so resentful over something that none of us can control but...you know. It's my blog, right? And life isn't fair. And I am so angry.
I wouldn't wish the past year of my life on my worst enemy. But if nothing else, at least now I have full confidence that I will never relapse with my anorexia again, because I can finally see that it will only continue to hurt me.
And then my body started to fall apart. Last winter, I started getting sharp stabbing pains in my pelvis, hips, and back. I couldn't sit. I couldn't walk. I couldn't sleep, but I also couldn't stand to be awake because of how uncomfortable I was. I saw at least twenty different doctors—orthopedists, endocrinologists, gynecologists, gastroenterologists, pain specialists—and they all told me something different. No one had any idea what was causing my pain and what I could do to alleviate it. On top of it, my eyes started deteriorating as well. I'd had dry-ish eyes for the year or so prior, but they got infinitely worse about a year ago to the point where I was barely functioning. I couldn't look at a computer screen for longer than about twenty minutes at a time. I had to stop driving for a while. I saw five different ophthalmologists and nothing worked. I couldn't imagine the rest of my life that way. I cried all the time.
Meanwhile, my weight hovered in the underweight-but-not-scary-underweight realm for about two years. I restricted my intake to a low-but-not-scary-low amount. I was not having periods. Only until this past spring when I got food poisoning and inadvertently lost a few pounds did I go back to hardcore restricting because I figured, what the fuck does it matter? I'm going to be miserable anyway, so I might as well be skinny too.
It was hard to see myself as sick for most of the past two years, because my weight and intake were both well above my rock bottom point in late 2010. But I started having all these crazy symptoms—the nerve pain, the dry eyes, and some GI issues. I had a gut feeling that it was all related, but I guess I was just in denial and thought, like I always had, that being skinny was the answer. It was only until I saw Dr. A last week, and heard him say that of course the anorexia, the longterm amenorrhea, and the associated ongoing stress on my body caused the problems, that it really started to sink in. It wasn't a freak thing or a random gene mutation that caused my pain; it was months and years of accumulated damage.
I have much more hope now than I have in a long time, but I'm also sad. I did this to myself. I essentially wasted a year of my life being hurt and sick and so depressed I wanted to die. Dr. A assures me that the damage is reversible, and that the pain will eventually subside, which makes me happier than anything has in a long, long time. But I am also scared, because I don't know how to shed this part of myself, the anorexia, that has been my solution for so long. Forgive me if this seems dense, but it has taken this long for me to realize: anorexia makes me sick. It hurts me. I've never seen it as the enemy before, but now I do. I cannot have anorexia and be okay. My body can't take it.
Ultimately, I think recovery is going to stick for me this time. I simply can't go through this again. And I don't mean the hunger and the weakness and the ED obsessions—I can handle all that. But I can't go through the pain again. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about whether or not it was a blessing in disguise to have this happen to me, since I seem to have found the ultimate motivation for maintaining my weight. And you know what? It wasn't. I am not grateful for anything that happened. This experience didn't make me a better or stronger person or anything like that; it made me a worse person for a long time. It made me angry and bitter. I was a terrible daughter and a terrible friend. And I've only been hurt for a year. I don't know how people with true chronic pain—like with fibromyalgia or vulvodynia or sciatica—ever learn to cope. When I found myself facing a future of incurable pain, life wasn't worth living.
I've tried so goddamn hard to stay positive throughout all this and be my usual happy silly self, but there's only so much you can fake. Pain changes you; it makes you cranky and ugly and mean. I'm angry that millions of girls have anorexia without suffering through the horrible physical consequences that I have. That millions of girls can get through anorexia with nothing more than a low heart rate and some body image woes. And I'm angry that an otherwise healthy person might wake up one morning with head-to-toe pain and have his/her life changed forever. I know that it's incredibly unfair of me to be so resentful over something that none of us can control but...you know. It's my blog, right? And life isn't fair. And I am so angry.
I wouldn't wish the past year of my life on my worst enemy. But if nothing else, at least now I have full confidence that I will never relapse with my anorexia again, because I can finally see that it will only continue to hurt me.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Holiday Reflections and Exercise Thoughts
I must say, Christmas went much better this time around compared to last year. It seems crazy to me that a whole year has passed since I wrote that because in a lot of ways, I feel like I haven't really moved forward all that much. This past year has been the absolute hardest, worst year of my life, and often it felt like the days were dragging. But now looking back, it feels like time has flown.
On Christmas morning, we woke up, opened presents, made breakfast, went on a family walk (minus my brother....Big B is NOT into nature), then came home and chilled out for a while before my mom and I made dinner—steaks, shiitake mushrooms, brussel sprouts, roasted potatoes, beer bread, and chocolate whiskey cake. I ate really well and enjoyed the meal very much, except that I skipped the potatoes, cake, and wine. Sue me; I'm anorexic.
Overall, my mood is worlds better than it has been for much of the past several months. I haven't cried ONCE since being home, which is actually a huge deal, sadly enough. I'm going a little stir-crazy sitting around all the time, but I'm still not able to exercise and I have tons of thesis work to do over the break so I've been parked in front of my computer all week.
I just really miss working out. You would think I'd be used to the sedentary life by now, but it seems to get harder and harder all the time. It's not even an obsessive ED thing anymore; I just miss the feeling. And I do think I'd like my body better if I were active and in shape. Both my parents are super consistent exercisers, and it's driving me nuts to watch them head out to the gym while I'm stuck at home. In time, Kaylee. In time. I've been trying to go for walks and do push-ups and abs stuff at home, but it's just not the same. Any suggestions? New Dr. A was pretty adamant about the fact that I should probably avoid strenuous exercise FOREVER, but I'm not sure I'll be able to stick to that. I'm assuming that if I eat enough to compensate and am still getting periods, it's probably okay...right? I'd be super careful to no overdo it, but I can't imagine giving up running for life. He recommended yoga, which I've never had patience for in the past, but maybe I'll give it another shot. Can't hurt.
My mother, who teaches fifth grade by day and moonlights as a rapper by night, is currently bouncing around the house singing "Shake it to the ground and bring it back up, twirl it all around, YEAH YOU KNOW WHAT'S UP." I think that's my cue to intervene. This is mortifying for all involved.
On Christmas morning, we woke up, opened presents, made breakfast, went on a family walk (minus my brother....Big B is NOT into nature), then came home and chilled out for a while before my mom and I made dinner—steaks, shiitake mushrooms, brussel sprouts, roasted potatoes, beer bread, and chocolate whiskey cake. I ate really well and enjoyed the meal very much, except that I skipped the potatoes, cake, and wine. Sue me; I'm anorexic.
I just really miss working out. You would think I'd be used to the sedentary life by now, but it seems to get harder and harder all the time. It's not even an obsessive ED thing anymore; I just miss the feeling. And I do think I'd like my body better if I were active and in shape. Both my parents are super consistent exercisers, and it's driving me nuts to watch them head out to the gym while I'm stuck at home. In time, Kaylee. In time. I've been trying to go for walks and do push-ups and abs stuff at home, but it's just not the same. Any suggestions? New Dr. A was pretty adamant about the fact that I should probably avoid strenuous exercise FOREVER, but I'm not sure I'll be able to stick to that. I'm assuming that if I eat enough to compensate and am still getting periods, it's probably okay...right? I'd be super careful to no overdo it, but I can't imagine giving up running for life. He recommended yoga, which I've never had patience for in the past, but maybe I'll give it another shot. Can't hurt.
My mother, who teaches fifth grade by day and moonlights as a rapper by night, is currently bouncing around the house singing "Shake it to the ground and bring it back up, twirl it all around, YEAH YOU KNOW WHAT'S UP." I think that's my cue to intervene. This is mortifying for all involved.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Christmas Eve Antics
Hope everyone is having a lovely week. I've just been hanging out at home today, having a nice Christmas Eve with my mom and dad, baking bread and cake for tomorrow, and generally feeling pretty okay about life. I haven't started any of my new meds yet (they're getting shipped in sometime this week) but it's such a huge relief to have a plan in place and know that I won't be sick and messed up forever, and that the end of all this crap is in sight.
I know that I talk about this stuff a lot, but it's hard not to think about it. Sorry to be boring. The pain is on my mind twenty-four hours a day, like this horrible nagging burden of a reminder of what I've done to myself. As if feeling like a pudgeball isn't reminder enough.
Speaking of, I'm still not super happy about my weight, but I'm feeling more motivated to maintain it than I have in a long, long time. The last time I weighed this much was back in the summer of 2011, and even then I was sloowly cutting back on food, creeping up on exercise, and fully planning to restrict once I got away from my parents and back to college. Now, I realize that my body absolutely must be at a healthy weight to function, and I don't want to risk losing my period and messing up my body all over again. The stakes are too high, and the risks just aren't worth it.
Anyway, onto some lighter updates: I saw my best friend from high school the other day. In fact, we spent about three hours chit-chatting away in a coffee shop about school and future plans and boys and stuff. We are both kind of in disbelief that we'll be graduating from college in less than six months. I don't think my parents quite believe it either, since they keep putting off making their reservations for graduation weekend... Thanks for the show of good faith, Mom and Dad!
I am also rediscovering some delicious foods that, for some reason, I only eat at home. Omelets, clementines, steak, green beans, crackers, cashews, etc. I'm lazy about cooking at school, and get stuck in a perpetual food rut where I always eat the same stuff over and over again. No time or energy for being adventurous during the school year, I guess.
Oh! And my eyes still feel GREAT. My mom keeps calling it my "Christmas miracle." No one out there ever take your eyeballs for granted, okay?
I know that I talk about this stuff a lot, but it's hard not to think about it. Sorry to be boring. The pain is on my mind twenty-four hours a day, like this horrible nagging burden of a reminder of what I've done to myself. As if feeling like a pudgeball isn't reminder enough.
Speaking of, I'm still not super happy about my weight, but I'm feeling more motivated to maintain it than I have in a long, long time. The last time I weighed this much was back in the summer of 2011, and even then I was sloowly cutting back on food, creeping up on exercise, and fully planning to restrict once I got away from my parents and back to college. Now, I realize that my body absolutely must be at a healthy weight to function, and I don't want to risk losing my period and messing up my body all over again. The stakes are too high, and the risks just aren't worth it.
Anyway, onto some lighter updates: I saw my best friend from high school the other day. In fact, we spent about three hours chit-chatting away in a coffee shop about school and future plans and boys and stuff. We are both kind of in disbelief that we'll be graduating from college in less than six months. I don't think my parents quite believe it either, since they keep putting off making their reservations for graduation weekend... Thanks for the show of good faith, Mom and Dad!
I am also rediscovering some delicious foods that, for some reason, I only eat at home. Omelets, clementines, steak, green beans, crackers, cashews, etc. I'm lazy about cooking at school, and get stuck in a perpetual food rut where I always eat the same stuff over and over again. No time or energy for being adventurous during the school year, I guess.
Oh! And my eyes still feel GREAT. My mom keeps calling it my "Christmas miracle." No one out there ever take your eyeballs for granted, okay?
Friday, December 21, 2012
Light at the End of the Tunnel
I promise, this is the last doctor appointment recap I'll be doing in a while (because I have no more appointments until I go back to College City and see R in mid-January), but I had to post something. I am so overwhelmed with relief and gratitude that I almost don't know what to do with myself right now. Yesterday, I saw a new chronic pain doctor in Big Home City and, you guys, he told me I'm going to be just fine. Whereas everyone else—including the "specialists" in College City—told me that my pain was incurable and there were no options besides staying on the evil drugs for life, new Dr. A had answers. And guess what? I'm not crazy. The pain was completely hormone-related, and the solution involves a hormone replacement-type compound (sort of like the opposite of birth control). And I am under strict orders to never ever ever overexercise or restrict to the point of losing my period ever again.
I'm kind of pissed off that every other doctor ignored my gut feelings and assumed that I didn't know my own body. But honestly, I'm not wasting any time on being angry or bitter anymore, because maybe now I can actually get my life back. Well, backtracking—this isn't going to be an instant cure, and the doctor told me it could take at least 2-3 months before I notice any difference in my pain levels. But when I asked him if I were really going to get better, given what all the other doctors said, he responded without a second's hesitation, "You're going to be totally fine."
Basically, Dr. A has made his life's work researching the kind of pain (hip, pelvic, lower back) that I have, and knows vastly more about it than 90% of the other doctors out there. I'm not going to start singing his praises from the rooftops just yet (at least not until my pain is actually better), but he seemed to know immediately what was wrong with me and how to treat it. Besides the hormones, I'm supposed to keep up with PT and use Valium (Kaylee's Little Helper!) as a muscle relaxant at night.
The other point Dr. A made was this: the problem was unquestionably caused by my anorexia. The several years I went being underweight and without getting periods threw my whole system out of whack so that my muscles atrophied, my nerves were damaged, and my poor body didn't really stand a chance. The absolute worst thing I could do right now, or ever, would be to start losing weight and digging myself back into that hole. The doctor was super encouraging and congratulatory about how far I've come in recovery, but really stressed the fact that I will always be vulnerable, and that I cannot ever let myself get sick again.
So, you guys, if there is anyone out there still struggling—whether it be with an eating disorder or pain or some other medical problem or whatever—and you haven't been able to find relief and the doctors aren't helping you, I'm here to say: hang in there. There is hope. I've seen over twenty doctors in the last year, and only TWO of them have done any good whatsoever. All doctors are NOT created equal, and it may take some digging to find a really good one. Only in the last month have I found any relief for my eyes, and only since yesterday for the pain, and I have come so close to giving up so many times. I can't tell you how many days I came home and crawled into bed and cried because I thought there was no end in sight. So, if you're hurting and you haven't found a solution, keep looking. Don't give up.
Anyway, sorry to bombard you with news of all my appointments, but I just had to share this—especially since I've subjected the blog world to my constant griping and whining about this for so long. Love you all very much.
I'm kind of pissed off that every other doctor ignored my gut feelings and assumed that I didn't know my own body. But honestly, I'm not wasting any time on being angry or bitter anymore, because maybe now I can actually get my life back. Well, backtracking—this isn't going to be an instant cure, and the doctor told me it could take at least 2-3 months before I notice any difference in my pain levels. But when I asked him if I were really going to get better, given what all the other doctors said, he responded without a second's hesitation, "You're going to be totally fine."
Basically, Dr. A has made his life's work researching the kind of pain (hip, pelvic, lower back) that I have, and knows vastly more about it than 90% of the other doctors out there. I'm not going to start singing his praises from the rooftops just yet (at least not until my pain is actually better), but he seemed to know immediately what was wrong with me and how to treat it. Besides the hormones, I'm supposed to keep up with PT and use Valium (Kaylee's Little Helper!) as a muscle relaxant at night.
The other point Dr. A made was this: the problem was unquestionably caused by my anorexia. The several years I went being underweight and without getting periods threw my whole system out of whack so that my muscles atrophied, my nerves were damaged, and my poor body didn't really stand a chance. The absolute worst thing I could do right now, or ever, would be to start losing weight and digging myself back into that hole. The doctor was super encouraging and congratulatory about how far I've come in recovery, but really stressed the fact that I will always be vulnerable, and that I cannot ever let myself get sick again.
So, you guys, if there is anyone out there still struggling—whether it be with an eating disorder or pain or some other medical problem or whatever—and you haven't been able to find relief and the doctors aren't helping you, I'm here to say: hang in there. There is hope. I've seen over twenty doctors in the last year, and only TWO of them have done any good whatsoever. All doctors are NOT created equal, and it may take some digging to find a really good one. Only in the last month have I found any relief for my eyes, and only since yesterday for the pain, and I have come so close to giving up so many times. I can't tell you how many days I came home and crawled into bed and cried because I thought there was no end in sight. So, if you're hurting and you haven't found a solution, keep looking. Don't give up.
Anyway, sorry to bombard you with news of all my appointments, but I just had to share this—especially since I've subjected the blog world to my constant griping and whining about this for so long. Love you all very much.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
The Epic Week of Seven Doctors' Appointments
So, some updates as promised:
- Wednesday: The ED doc was first—she asked me some really hard stuff that I wasn't really ready to talk about, and thus I started crying and couldn't really focus on what she was saying after that. Pretty much her only suggestion as far as the pain was to up the dose of my gabapentin, which I probably won't do because I'm a FREAK and can't stop worrying about my weight. Next was Dr. L, my psychiatrist, who normally never fails to make me feel better and understood and taken care of. She was as sweet and compassionate as always this time, but ultimately didn't really have any suggestions either. ARGH. I feel so lost.
- Thursday was the eye doctor. I LOVE HIM. My eyes feel absolutely fantastic. More importantly, I am finally rid of my evil glasses and am wearing contacts again for the first time in about six months. I was forcing them in for about a year before that, but they were always super uncomfortable. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that this is real and my eyes actually don't hurt.
- Friday was...an adventure. I saw my pain doc (the nice one that I first saw back in October) at 8 a.m.—his research assistant told me that she was "hopeful for a couple of reasons" about me, and gave me another prescription to try. Then I had PT at 9, which was okay except that I'd walked from the hospital to the PT clinic and went into the session already hurting quite a bit, but PT Lady was super nice and understanding and made me feel better.
- And then therapy. My roommate came with me, which I finally agreed to after waffling on it for several weeks. She had first offered to come about a month ago when I was REALLY struggling and scaring her with how miserable I was. R seemed happy to have her there and it was a very interesting session—definitely uncomfortable and not fun at times, but ultimately productive, I think. R and I will have lots to talk about at my next solo appointment in January but for now, I'm happy to be on therapy-vacation.
- Oh yeah, and then late Friday afternoon I had to run back to the eye doctor for a quick emergency checkup because my right eye was hurting and freaking me out, but apparently I am a paranoid loser because my eye was just fine. At least Dr. Q was nice about it and didn't make fun of me.
Does anyone else sometimes forget that I'm a full-time student too? I certainly do. So looking forward to the day when I can have hobbies instead of doctors' appointments.
- Wednesday: The ED doc was first—she asked me some really hard stuff that I wasn't really ready to talk about, and thus I started crying and couldn't really focus on what she was saying after that. Pretty much her only suggestion as far as the pain was to up the dose of my gabapentin, which I probably won't do because I'm a FREAK and can't stop worrying about my weight. Next was Dr. L, my psychiatrist, who normally never fails to make me feel better and understood and taken care of. She was as sweet and compassionate as always this time, but ultimately didn't really have any suggestions either. ARGH. I feel so lost.
- Thursday was the eye doctor. I LOVE HIM. My eyes feel absolutely fantastic. More importantly, I am finally rid of my evil glasses and am wearing contacts again for the first time in about six months. I was forcing them in for about a year before that, but they were always super uncomfortable. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that this is real and my eyes actually don't hurt.
- Friday was...an adventure. I saw my pain doc (the nice one that I first saw back in October) at 8 a.m.—his research assistant told me that she was "hopeful for a couple of reasons" about me, and gave me another prescription to try. Then I had PT at 9, which was okay except that I'd walked from the hospital to the PT clinic and went into the session already hurting quite a bit, but PT Lady was super nice and understanding and made me feel better.
- And then therapy. My roommate came with me, which I finally agreed to after waffling on it for several weeks. She had first offered to come about a month ago when I was REALLY struggling and scaring her with how miserable I was. R seemed happy to have her there and it was a very interesting session—definitely uncomfortable and not fun at times, but ultimately productive, I think. R and I will have lots to talk about at my next solo appointment in January but for now, I'm happy to be on therapy-vacation.
- Oh yeah, and then late Friday afternoon I had to run back to the eye doctor for a quick emergency checkup because my right eye was hurting and freaking me out, but apparently I am a paranoid loser because my eye was just fine. At least Dr. Q was nice about it and didn't make fun of me.
Does anyone else sometimes forget that I'm a full-time student too? I certainly do. So looking forward to the day when I can have hobbies instead of doctors' appointments.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Pseudo End-of-Semester
I am writing this from my parents' house after getting home from College City on Saturday night. I've been meaning to post a real update on all those appointments that had me so freaked out (and they did not disappoint!) but I'm too lazy at the moment; maybe later. Suffice it to say that I had seven appointments in three days last week, so I am completely worn out from seeing doctors and am very happy to be home and have a break from it all until January 3.
Even though I'm home, I actually still have a term paper due tomorrow so my vacation hasn't technically started yet. And then once I finish that paper, I have tons of thesis stuff to work on that should keep me busy throughout the whole break. That being said, I am having a reeeally hard time motivating myself to do schoolwork when it feels like Christmas-mode around here. We put up our (fake) tree last night, and my dad and I went shopping for presents this morning.
I am still kind of shaken up about the shooting. I have some connections to Newtown from when I was a kid, and it's eerie to think that something so horrible could happen there. Those poor, poor kids. My mom is a teacher and I was terrified about letting her go stand in front of a classroom this morning.
Food stuff: I'm trying hard to stick to my usual intake, even though routine changes are always golden opportunities for restriction. I tried on an old pair of jeans that have been too baggy on me since high school, and they fit almost perfectly. That made me want to rip my hair out at first, but then I realized that maybe they didn't look half-bad. Maybe.
Hope everyone's having a great December so far. I'll post more doctor/therapy details soon.
Even though I'm home, I actually still have a term paper due tomorrow so my vacation hasn't technically started yet. And then once I finish that paper, I have tons of thesis stuff to work on that should keep me busy throughout the whole break. That being said, I am having a reeeally hard time motivating myself to do schoolwork when it feels like Christmas-mode around here. We put up our (fake) tree last night, and my dad and I went shopping for presents this morning.
I am still kind of shaken up about the shooting. I have some connections to Newtown from when I was a kid, and it's eerie to think that something so horrible could happen there. Those poor, poor kids. My mom is a teacher and I was terrified about letting her go stand in front of a classroom this morning.
Food stuff: I'm trying hard to stick to my usual intake, even though routine changes are always golden opportunities for restriction. I tried on an old pair of jeans that have been too baggy on me since high school, and they fit almost perfectly. That made me want to rip my hair out at first, but then I realized that maybe they didn't look half-bad. Maybe.
Hope everyone's having a great December so far. I'll post more doctor/therapy details soon.
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