I thought I would take some time today and update everyone on the progress in my life since the last blog where I had just seen the Girlie Doctor and been held hostage by Dr. Nature.
As luck would have it, the nutrient IV/hostage situation that caused me to have to lay in an uncomfortable position on my bad shoulder for hours has caused my shoulder to flare up. I have been babying this shoulder for close to 9 years after the last cortisone shot that seemed to stabilize it. Well, now it is PISSED OFF. So, if you add that on all my other maladies, I'm a bigger hot mess than before. On a side note, for those of you that wanted to know how the nutrient IV went after the fact, it did make me feel better and sleep better and wake up refreshed for about a week. So, there's that.
So, I have been going to appointments to figure out what is going on in this angry body of mine. Still a few more to go over the next two weeks, but the one constant appointment I always make time for is my Therapy Thursday sessions with The Rug Doctor. I visited her on a Tuesday this week, so it was more of a Train Wreck Tuesday. Regardless of the day, I always bring the correct amount of dysfunction to the session for her to earn the co-pay.
This week I told her that I was pretty much emotionally bankrupt. Like, all this drama with my body, not knowing what is going on and having all these pains and not sleeping made me feel utterly hopeless and honestly, a little scared. And knowing, at some level, that so much of it is probably my fault for a lifetime of obesity. Knowing how bad I want to be healthy and just continually struggling. I told her I am the problem, but we can't fix me, Lord knows she's tried. I just need to do what I need to do, but I'm apparently in my own way. She says not to be so hard on myself and that there is a balance between being kind to yourself and holding yourself accountable. And that I'm still working through issues from my childhood. I called bullshit on her, "Being kind hasn't worked. Kindness likes cookies. I need that accountability bitch in there telling me to get my shit together." She said, "so how's that been working out?" (Insert disapproving look here directed at therapist ) I told her that nothing I have ever tried, since birth, has ever worked for me to lose weight. No diet, no plan, no program, not even surgery has helped. I mean, surgery did for a short time and then all hell broke loose with my work out program and my joints and the weight all came rushing back with a vengeance.
I went on to explain, it's like I can't break through the barriers. I said to The Rug Doctor, "It's like I'm some sort of cellulite superhero." She looked at me confused, "A cellulite superhero? I've never heard of that..." I said, "Yeah, you know how the Incredible Hulk gets pissed off and he's all green and indestructible? He's a bad-ass an you can't touch him. I'm like Super Cellulite Girl, go ahead and try and lose weight, can't be done because Super Cellulite Girl (SCG) is there to fend off any sort of healthy behavior. The cellulite has super powers. They grab on and multiply like fucking rabbits and I am powerless to stop them. Cellulite is stronger than any force in the food chain or in the workout world." She considered this and said, "But that isn't true, you were able to tap into your positive self at the beginning of January and be on track, feel good and make healthy choices." I countered, "Yeah, because even Super Cellulite Girl has a kryptonite....HOPE. Cassondra was attacked by hope and was temporarily hi-jacked, but then shit happened that weakened hope and then SCG came in and regained control." I acted out punching-out hope and puffing myself up like a bad-ass with puffy cheeks.
God bless the Rug Doctor, she never gives up. She says, "I think we can access hope again by being kind to yourself and remembering what it was like when you were successful and working out and what that felt like." I said, "SCG has amnesia. She doesn't dwell on times she was consumed by hope, she focuses on the daily ability to hold on to power. She cannot be defeated. She has a cape."
We went on to discuss how having hope may have let me down in the past and how to access it again. And also about worry and how that plays a role. I actually said to her, straight-faced, "I don't think I worry that much. I think maybe I should worry more." While this is not the first time I have rendered The Rug Doctor speechless, it always gives me a small sense of satisfaction when it does happen. I like to believe this is the part of our session where she really earned her hourly rate. It's too much to go into, but she made her point. I may worry more than I think.
So, at the end of the day, SCG is a reigning power in my life. She's allegedly indestructible. I know I'm the one giving her power, I just don't always have the strength to fight her. She will always be inside, always. She has been there since birth. Kind of like an X-Men gene, but in my case it is an XXL genetic mutation. Even in the most basic of action films, there is always a way to destroy the bad guy, but then there is a sequel. Like, is Freddy Kreuger even dead? Jason? They always come back. Always lurking, waiting for the stupid teens to be unattended, or in my case, a fat girl standing outside Coldstone Creamery...sniffing the smell of waffle cone...and just like that, SCG is back in charge as fast as feeding gremlins after midnight.
I don't know what the hell I'm going to do, honestly. This constant fight makes me feel like a failure. It's hard to build on that. And, I know I'm not supposed to compare myself to others, but really frustrated by other people's success with programs and surgeries. SCG has defeated all of them. And look, I've watched enough positive inspirational videos to know that that I need to say "I can" everyday and I need to change the mindset, but the reality is, my XXL genetic mutation makes it so much harder.
I have no answers in this blog tonight, no insights, no plan of action. It's simply where I am today. I guess I'm going to get through this next two weeks of appointments and see where I am. Am I getting a hysterectomy, my gall bladder out, my shoulder worked on? OR...a lobotomy? Let's spin the wheel and see what happens.
As luck would have it, the nutrient IV/hostage situation that caused me to have to lay in an uncomfortable position on my bad shoulder for hours has caused my shoulder to flare up. I have been babying this shoulder for close to 9 years after the last cortisone shot that seemed to stabilize it. Well, now it is PISSED OFF. So, if you add that on all my other maladies, I'm a bigger hot mess than before. On a side note, for those of you that wanted to know how the nutrient IV went after the fact, it did make me feel better and sleep better and wake up refreshed for about a week. So, there's that.
So, I have been going to appointments to figure out what is going on in this angry body of mine. Still a few more to go over the next two weeks, but the one constant appointment I always make time for is my Therapy Thursday sessions with The Rug Doctor. I visited her on a Tuesday this week, so it was more of a Train Wreck Tuesday. Regardless of the day, I always bring the correct amount of dysfunction to the session for her to earn the co-pay.
This week I told her that I was pretty much emotionally bankrupt. Like, all this drama with my body, not knowing what is going on and having all these pains and not sleeping made me feel utterly hopeless and honestly, a little scared. And knowing, at some level, that so much of it is probably my fault for a lifetime of obesity. Knowing how bad I want to be healthy and just continually struggling. I told her I am the problem, but we can't fix me, Lord knows she's tried. I just need to do what I need to do, but I'm apparently in my own way. She says not to be so hard on myself and that there is a balance between being kind to yourself and holding yourself accountable. And that I'm still working through issues from my childhood. I called bullshit on her, "Being kind hasn't worked. Kindness likes cookies. I need that accountability bitch in there telling me to get my shit together." She said, "so how's that been working out?" (Insert disapproving look here directed at therapist ) I told her that nothing I have ever tried, since birth, has ever worked for me to lose weight. No diet, no plan, no program, not even surgery has helped. I mean, surgery did for a short time and then all hell broke loose with my work out program and my joints and the weight all came rushing back with a vengeance.
I went on to explain, it's like I can't break through the barriers. I said to The Rug Doctor, "It's like I'm some sort of cellulite superhero." She looked at me confused, "A cellulite superhero? I've never heard of that..." I said, "Yeah, you know how the Incredible Hulk gets pissed off and he's all green and indestructible? He's a bad-ass an you can't touch him. I'm like Super Cellulite Girl, go ahead and try and lose weight, can't be done because Super Cellulite Girl (SCG) is there to fend off any sort of healthy behavior. The cellulite has super powers. They grab on and multiply like fucking rabbits and I am powerless to stop them. Cellulite is stronger than any force in the food chain or in the workout world." She considered this and said, "But that isn't true, you were able to tap into your positive self at the beginning of January and be on track, feel good and make healthy choices." I countered, "Yeah, because even Super Cellulite Girl has a kryptonite....HOPE. Cassondra was attacked by hope and was temporarily hi-jacked, but then shit happened that weakened hope and then SCG came in and regained control." I acted out punching-out hope and puffing myself up like a bad-ass with puffy cheeks.
 |
| Super Cellulite Girl. Gnarly looking bitch, isn't she? |
God bless the Rug Doctor, she never gives up. She says, "I think we can access hope again by being kind to yourself and remembering what it was like when you were successful and working out and what that felt like." I said, "SCG has amnesia. She doesn't dwell on times she was consumed by hope, she focuses on the daily ability to hold on to power. She cannot be defeated. She has a cape."
We went on to discuss how having hope may have let me down in the past and how to access it again. And also about worry and how that plays a role. I actually said to her, straight-faced, "I don't think I worry that much. I think maybe I should worry more." While this is not the first time I have rendered The Rug Doctor speechless, it always gives me a small sense of satisfaction when it does happen. I like to believe this is the part of our session where she really earned her hourly rate. It's too much to go into, but she made her point. I may worry more than I think.
So, at the end of the day, SCG is a reigning power in my life. She's allegedly indestructible. I know I'm the one giving her power, I just don't always have the strength to fight her. She will always be inside, always. She has been there since birth. Kind of like an X-Men gene, but in my case it is an XXL genetic mutation. Even in the most basic of action films, there is always a way to destroy the bad guy, but then there is a sequel. Like, is Freddy Kreuger even dead? Jason? They always come back. Always lurking, waiting for the stupid teens to be unattended, or in my case, a fat girl standing outside Coldstone Creamery...sniffing the smell of waffle cone...and just like that, SCG is back in charge as fast as feeding gremlins after midnight.
I don't know what the hell I'm going to do, honestly. This constant fight makes me feel like a failure. It's hard to build on that. And, I know I'm not supposed to compare myself to others, but really frustrated by other people's success with programs and surgeries. SCG has defeated all of them. And look, I've watched enough positive inspirational videos to know that that I need to say "I can" everyday and I need to change the mindset, but the reality is, my XXL genetic mutation makes it so much harder.
I have no answers in this blog tonight, no insights, no plan of action. It's simply where I am today. I guess I'm going to get through this next two weeks of appointments and see where I am. Am I getting a hysterectomy, my gall bladder out, my shoulder worked on? OR...a lobotomy? Let's spin the wheel and see what happens.
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