Thxgiving, Kids, Cancer, Love, and I

Thanksgiving has come and gone. It was, as usual, pretty uneventful. Mothership and I ate some shrimp, saw Bohemian Rhapsody, and watched Eli Roth’s History of Horror. No, I did nothing with the boyfriend this year. We agreed that next year we’d try to weave each other into our holiday plans. We’ve only been together since August, you know. Three months does not justify holiday chaos. He agreed.

Chris took Addi up to her mom’s, and he spent Thanksgiving with them. People make weird faces when I say that he spent Thanksgiving with his ex, her family, and her boyfriend and his kids, but personally I find it nice that they get along and can spend holidays together for the sake of Addi. They might be exes but if they can stay friends Addi’s family won’t have broken up, it will have just gotten bigger. I wish that for them all.

I took some time off before Thanksgiving and spent some time with Chris and Addi. We took her to Mile High Comics, the big one in bumfuk nowhere, and while it wasn’t ALL pleasant, I think it was productive. You see, I’m still figuring out how to interact with Addi. I’ve seen how other interact with her, and kids her age, and I think it’s dumb. So, when we picked her up from school and she was in a mood… I mocked her whining, which made her cry and pout. Chris was fine with this. We let her cool off and she wanted Waffle House. We weren’t sure how to get to Waffle House on the way to the comic store, and she wanted to throw a fit about it…

Let it be known that I am not a parent. I would never tell someone how to raise a kid, because I don’t know how to raise a kid.

That being said, I was NOT fucking having it, for reasons I’ll get to.
I spun around in the seat and told her to stop. I didn’t yell. I didn’t threaten. I didn’t even tell her that if she didn’t stop that she wouldn’t get what she wanted. I just told her to stop, since we were TRYING TO DO SOMETHING FUN FOR HER, and that if she wanted to make pouty faces she could do it while looking down because I didn’t want to see it.

And you know what? She stopped.

We went to Waffle House and she was fine. We went to the comic shop and she was fine. We went to 2nd & Charles and she was fine. Any time she tried to make that high pitched whining noise I just said, “Hey, we talked about that noise.” She was great the rest of the day, for a 5 year old. It’s like no one had told her to stop before. It was crazy. We didn’t find any comics for her, but at 2nd & Charles I bought her the three Five Nights at Freddy’s novels. My hope was that since she wants someone to read them to her, maybe she’ll want to read.

The next night we went to dinner with Chris’ mom and Addi. I don’t like eating with Addi because the adults in her life have made food “a thing.” As a former (current) person with an eating disorder, I dislike when people make food “a thing.” So we’re at this restaurant and they get an appetizer and they expect her to eat some. They get a salad and they expect her to eat some. Then her food comes, and she’s five, and she’s not hungry because she had appetizer and salad. Your stomach is the size of your fist… she’s five: she’s got a small fist. You can’t expect her to eat a ton. Not all kids do. So, she’s fidgety and she drops her drink, and Chris wants to get mad, and I just couldn’t help it… I told him to calm down. He did. There was no scene, no reprimands, and no tears.

So they were trying to get her to eat, but then they went to get desserts. While they were gone I talked to Addi. I asked if she knew how to twirl her spaghetti. She was excited to show me, especially when I attempted to do it with penne (which you can’t, obvi). Then I was like, wow, that’s so much food…. you can’t really fit that in your mouth can you? Of course she could, and she was excited to show me that, too. She was bored! It was obvious. I get the feeling she doesn’t get treated like a part of the group very often… I’m going to work on that with her.

When we got back to their place Addi was excited to show me her room and how clean it was. Then she was excited for me to read Five Nights at Freddy’s to her. It was adorable. I had a coughing fit and Chris had to take over. Aside from that Addi asked when she can meet my monsters (dogs) and I told her it depended. She would have to prove to me that she won’t make that high pitched whining noise, because Kira hasn’t been around kids and I dunno what she’ll do with that. I don’t want Addi to get hurt. She said she’d work on not doing that.

I call the weekend a win, overall. I don’t think I interact with kids the way other people interact with kids, though. I kind of just treat them like adults… but also account for age. She’s 5, she’s not an idiot. She has thoughts and opinions and social needs. She can be reasoned with and explained to if you take the time. I’m working on showing Chris how I would interact with his kid. A, I want him to know in case I need to babysit, but 2, my big thing is not to make stuff “things.” We got pizza one night and she wanted to throw a fit over mushrooms… I literally snapped my fingers at her and went, “Hey… just pick them off. Pick your battles, kid.” And she did and things were fine. I’m no expert on kids, but I do think that the less “things” in kids’ lives, the more adjusted they’ll grow up to be.

The reason I finally snapped at Addi, by the way, is because just a little while before we picked her up from school, I got a phone call informing me that my cervical biopsy revealed per-cancerous cells. They wanted to do a LEEP procedure, which entails essentially carving out the part of my cervix that has the cells. It sounds painful because it will be. I lost it. I started crying at this woman on the phone about how my reproductive system has been trying to kill me since I was 12, and how I refuse to have to do this every single year for the rest of my life when the cervical biopsy hurt so much already, and the dysphoria about the whole thing…

I got lucky the woman I was talking to was someone who had a hysterectomy already. She was very kind. She ran off to NP Slaughter and consulted with her, and NP Slaughter, refreshed on my history, decided I should have a consult with a doctor. We postponed the LEEP procedure until after my consult with a doctor, who will discuss all my options, including a preventative hysterectomy. I will probably still have to have a LEEP, to see what’s in my uterus and determine how best to remove it, just in case it’s something that could break up and spread to the inside of my abdomen. I’m not thrilled.

I spent a lot of time on the phone with my mom crying about it all, and trying to deal with how scared and anxious I am over it…. but the consult is in late December, so I chose to put off worrying until then. I just pushed it down into a little ball that will probably give me cancer… hopefully not new cancer, though. Let’s stick to organs I can remove.

I thought I pushed it down, anyways. I put it out of my mind as much as I can. Aside from snapping back at Addi, though… I’ve had… symptoms of stress. My lips are raw meat from chewing on them. My picking habit is out of control. I’m binging or not eating at all. Little things can get under my skin and throw me into a completely inappropriate rage. I pushed it down, but the anxiety isn’t gone. I probably think about it several times a day… and just try not to acknowledge it. So today I bit the metaphorical bullet and scheduled a talk therapy session.

It’s so hard to pry apart what’s being caused by new medications and what’s just a response to stress… I thought if I could get in with someone now, I could be sure to have an appointment lined up after my consult… cuz no matter what, that’s gonna be a bad time. So… working on that self care, I guess.

Chris has been really great about this whole cervical cancer thing, too. He doesn’t “get it” but he’s there if I need him. That’s really all you can ask for.

In unrelated, happier news, I played matchmaker and found someone a match. A month ago I hooked up Chris’ friend Rob with my friend Amber. I dunno Amber well, but she’s awkward and best friends with Robot Boy, so I guessed she might like Rob. Holy hell was I correct. They are attached to each other like crazy glue. She started by spending four days there, only coming up for air when she had to go to work. She did Thanksgiving with his family. They’re thinking about moving her in. I mean, I thought Chris and I moved fast, but damn. Still, I’m happy for them and I’m happy that I brought them together.

Their speed kind of made me question where Chris and I are… but it’s two very different scenarios. Chris and I are happy. Rob and Amber are happy. They don’t have to be the same happiness to be happiness. Chris and I have things to consider that Rob and Amber don’t. Kids, finances, wives… but we’re fine where we are. Conversely, I always think Bird and her man should be “farther along” since they’ve dated on and off for like 10 years, but they’re not. And they’re happy. So… why argue with that?

Speaking of Bird, this past weekend we went to a concert for Spiral Cell and Nordic Daughter, followed by playing Mario Party at my house. It was a blast! I lost so hard… but it was so much fun. The next night I made Chris dinner and we watched comedy specials. It was really nice. I loved our weekend. I love us. I love being happy. I do not love that he takes his steak medium, though… I’m a rare girl, and I’ve never cooked a medium steak… so I totally ended up with well done… but the potatoes and asparagus were good. Lol.

Anyways. That’s all for me. And really… that’s enough.

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2018… Not A Great Year So Far…

How is 2018? Well… it’s not great.

Let’s review my work life right now.

  • Biller #1 walked out right before year-end bill-out
  • Biller #2 had her baby a month early, right before year-end bill-out
  • Year-end as the only biller, plus everything else I do
  • New Biller started and quit after two days
  • Finally got two billers I think will be good, and the warranty girl puts in her notice

And that’s about where we are right now.

I’m tired of training of people. My only solace is that these two billers will be good, I think. They’re both bright and motivated to work. I think if either leave any time soon I will just curl up and die under their desk as a tribute to my absolute disappointment in them. But I think they’ll stay, and they’re doing really great, and I’m excited for this bullshit to be over….

Just in time for my warranty gal to leave. She’s going to a pot-lot (car lingo for a used car lot, with buy-here-pay-here ish going on), where she’s going to be the whole office. Now, I almost went to a Maserati store where I was gonna be the whole office, but that was like 15 deals a month, and they don’t take payments at the store… so it wouldn’t have been terrible… I’m not sure this is a wise career move for my friend here, but she has to make her own decisions, and this one gives her an extra $3/hr. On top of that, she really irritates me by watching TV on her phone while she works and blatantly ignoring people who talk to her. Love her as a person, kind of hate her as an employee.  I know she can be a hard worker, but she’s been an alright employee and we know that she hates her current position doing warranty, so I wish her the best. But fuck I don’t wanna train someone to do her job…

My moods are all over the place with the constant barrage of stress and idiocy that keeps getting thrown at me at work, plus we (mothership and I) haven’t gotten a weekend off since December… so that’s pretty shite. Still, she’s getting some good money this month and has offered to help me buy a new bed and a desk for my living room… so at least I know SHE appreciates me, if no one else. We’re hoping to get the office settled and be able to sit back and do actual office manager and controller things… like analyzing data and how procedures are getting done. It would be weird to actually have that kind of time, but ya know… it’s the dream.

Tonight Kyrie and Kira (my dogs) got into it and Kira tore Kyrie’s nose open… she’s okay, but I lost my damn shit. I was just so upset, because I’m working so hard to provide a nice life for them and they fight… it’s like a real kick in the dick.

I also impulse bought books again… but I think I’m good for a while. I just… needed something to look forward to, and books are always good for that.

My eating habits are terrible, in the sense I’m eating a fuck ton, but I’m eating less crap than normal… at least it’s not Taco Bell, it’s whatever I make in the Instant Pot that day. My stationary bike should be here any day and I’m hoping to do that nightly, as well as eating less… I must eat less… but this stress is just crazy. I don’t know how people function like this ALL THE TIME. I need a break… like a vacation… Ugh.

Guys, We Didn’t Talk About Resolutions

January has been crap, but my number one resolution for this year is TRYING to stay positive. I have a fun little positivity book I’m supposed to update daily and everything. I’m not updating daily… but I’m trying.

Other resolutions:

  • No internet dating
    • Read: {embrace that I’m not emotionally available to anyone}
  • Exercise more
    • Read: {be able to walk around without having an asthma attack}
  • Eat better
    • Read: {stop binge eating Chipotle when I’m sad}
  • Spend Less
    • Read: {stop buying art supplies, books, and Coca Cola on the daily}
  • Hydrate
    • Read: {drink something besides Coke and Sweet Tea}

So, I decided to cut internet dating because it doesn’t work and it makes me feel bad about myself. Also, though, I don’t make it easy for people to get to know me or even talk to me. I’m abrasive, closed off, and historically I prefer to make boys cry than let them violate me. So, I think in my year of preparation for being 30 (because 30 is death when you’re a woman, you know /s) I should just deal with that. I know who I am, and I know that I’m fine being alone, but I’ve grown so accustomed to the pursuit of a significant other that life without internet dating, even as terrible as it is, feels new and different. And I could definitely use some new and different in my life.

My ultimate goal with exercising and eating better is weight loss, and ideally I know I want to get back to high school weight (which is still fat, btw… like 60 lbs overweight still) but I don’t want to pin myself down to that number. I want to be able to walk without getting winded and I want to feel better physically more than I want to wear a certain size or see a certain number on the scale. I’m excited for my stationary bike to get here, because I’m motivated to do a thing. (It’s so rare that I’m motivated to do ANYTHING.) It’s supposed to come at the beginning of February. My mom also got me an Instant Pot for working so hard, so I’m excited to see what I can make with it and hopefully manage my caloric intake/expenditure better. I have this tendency to make everything about my weight, and while I am ENORMOUS (I’m not gonna sugar coat it, cuz then I might eat it) {as a fat person I get to make fat jokes guilt free} these resolutions aren’t inherently about my weight: they are about my health and my sense of well-being.

I finally got to really test out my Instant Pot that mothership got me, and I’m living for it. Today I made supa bomb green chili steak with rice and black beans, an amazing chicken soup, and a veggie side dish thing that’s essentially broccoli and cauliflower rice with peas and corn cooked in sofrito. It’s intended to be a side to whatever I make for dinner the next couple of days, which will probably be some chicken or fake turkey roast (Quorn brand non-meats are just tasty, y’all.)

Spending less is a resolution I often have, because I live in a comfortable debt. I have a mortgage, car payment, student loans, credit card debt, etc. I live pretty comfortably, and I don’t think too much about money most of the time, but I do buy things needlessly and I’d prefer to get out of debt instead of just repeatedly feeding it. Most notably, I have a tendency to put out a ton of money for art supplies and books. Of the things I could waste my money on, these aren’t the worst things, but I have stockpiled a supply of both. So, my goals are not to buy anymore, the exceptions being that if I use all of an art supply I can buy ONE more and if I take five books to sell or donate, I can buy one book (in theory using the money from selling the book). I also tend to overspend on groceries, so I’m hoping eating in a more health-conscious way will also help me spend less. Portion control can bleed into money, right?

Saying I want to hydrate for a resolution sounds like a very millennial thing to say, but the truth is that I have a tendency to avoid drinking actual water, and for a long time last year I was drink gallons of water a day, and it does wonders for everything from my skin to my appetite. Recently I got back into the habit of drinking Coca Cola and Monster, as well as a copious amount of iced teas. The teas don’t bother me that much, because it’s only 1 cup of sugar to a whole pitcher of tea, which I think is about a gallon and a half. The coke is out of hand, which is a startling sentence. I really gotta stop drinking so much processed crap, though. While I drink zero-calorie energy drinks, I can tell when I’m dehydrated because I get all swollen and wanna take a nap. I don’t know what I’m going to do to replace my caffeine intake… caffeine is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to kick, but I know I can do this since I’ve done it before.

Also, I’ve quit smoking. I don’t really know how long it’s been since I smoked… which is not something most smokers will tell you, but I never really smoked on the daily. I always smoked when I went out, and I haven’t been going out, so that made it an unconscious decision to quit. I’ve decided to stick with it, though. I often find myself wanting one, but I just push it down. It’s been really hard recently, because I’ve found it’s really hard to live without a vice.

I don’t have that many vices, and it’s unfortunate that the one I have makes me feel terrible. With the obscene amounts of stress I’ve been under since the new year started, I could really use a vice, but…I don’t drink alone as a rule (cuz I have been known to develop a real bad drinking habit), I quit smoking, I can’t bring myself to become a stoner (I live in Denver, it’s legal, but I still might wanna find a new job at some point and have no idea how to detox, and in my industry we still follow federal regulations), and actual drug use (like abusing my stockpile of Xanax) has never really appealed to me. So, I’m often left with eating as a vice. Even if I make the healthiest food, I have a severe problem with portion control and as a result I’m fat and suffering physical ailments related to my size. Honestly, I have toyed with the idea of living on zero-calorie Monster and cigarettes and just giving up food… but I already had my battle with not eating, as well as the vicious binge-and-purge cycle, and I’m not sure I could win again.

My hands have suffered in place of my lack of vice, too, because I had stopped biting my nails for most of 2017, and I’ve just massacred them since the new year started. THEY ACTUALLY HURT. It’s not even just biting on them, either. I have a tendency to take clippers to try and “fix” the damage and cut them so much shorter than I even ripped them down to. I clip till they bleed, and to be honest that part is so satisfying. It’s like tiny self-harm that’s 100% socially acceptable. It really is just a self-harm substitute, cuz I end up biting and clipping when I’d prefer to squeeze tacks or jab myself with safety pins, etc. Fortunately, I don’t have to fight the cutting feelings a lot anymore, to the point I don’t even know how I used to do it, but the baseline compulsion is still there.

I guess one of my resolutions is to also try to leave my mental illness alone, as well. I’m aware I just talked about my eating disorder problems, and my self-harm problems, and that they were 100% unnecessary statements. I do that a lot. At some point I took my mental illness (bipolar I with anxiety, paranoia, delusions, and sociopathy if the doctors are to be believed) and made myself a chrysalis out of it to distance me from my life. I stopped going out, which is a thing I really enjoyed doing and often even did alone, but that’s not my fault because I have anxiety and staying home was just self-care. It’s a lie, but it sounds nice, right? I have awful paranoia surrounding other people and their perceptions of me, so I just started rejecting ANY thoughts people MIGHT have about me, to the point that I just stopped exhibiting any empathy toward other human beings at all and shut myself off from all people emotionally. Not to mention that my rejection of their perception of me is so strong I stopped wearing makeup or trying to take pride in my appearance. I’ve just been phoning it in for years under the pretense that the feminist movement allows me to not wear makeup, even though I like makeup and really kind of miss having the motivation to put it on. I could go on, but my point is that I’m using my mental illness like some kind of bubble to keep myself from being responsible for my life.

I’m not the kind of person to do that. I’m not the kind of person that gives myself permission to check out because of my crazy. I’ve never taken an actual mental health day. I’ve rarely lost control of my emotions outside my home, because normal people don’t mood swing, so I’m just not allowed to do it. You go home, have a break down, get up, and go to work the next morning, because that’s what normal people are supposed to do. The few times my emotions have gotten the better of me, I just bottle it back up as fast as I can, claim I threw up a lot and that’s why my face looks this way, all tear-streaked and spotty, and continue with my day under the guise of illness. I do not give myself permission to hide behind my mental illness like it’s a reason to be different, and I know that people with mental illness will tell you how unhealthy my approach is, but it’s how I get by in life.

Anyways, I want to stop using my crazy as an excuse for the things I’m doing to myself. I’m secluding myself from people I was good friends with. I’m using my mental illness as an excuse to look proper shite. My house has never been “clean” but it’s gotten worse and my excuse is just that I’ve been depressed…. I’m depressed every damn day for some amount of time, so that’s not a great excuse for me. I have to learn to deal with that shit. I’m… I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to ever open up emotionally ever again. I reserve that for having mental breakdowns on the phone with my mom. Still, I could get over the rest. I have before. Will I be happier? Fuck no. I’ll be miserable. But… I’m fucking miserable everyday anyways. So what’s the difference between miserable and gross or miserable and eyeliner sharp enough to cut someone? At least one of those projects a sense of wellness, even if it’s an illusion built on Smashbox.

So. That’s where I’m at, guys. It’s not a great place, but it’s not the worst I’ve been.

At least we finally hired a biller…
Well… technically she’s the second biller we hired, but the first one didn’t pass the drug test and wasn’t comfortable stopping her THC meds long enough to get a clean test. For what reason, I don’t know, but I sympathize. People are using THC and other weed products for a lot of things these days. It’s unfortunate, cuz I liked that biller, but she has to do what’s best for her. This other biller seems good if she stays. Typical car industry gal, but I think she’s teachable.

Aight, I gotta go to bed. It snowed a fuck ton and I will prolly have to drive in it tomorrow since Mothership has the norovirus I had over New Year.

Peace.

EDIT: I almost forgot! How could I forget?! Rick Died.

My mom’s best friend has been living with, but not married to, her significant other for 20+ years, and one day last week she went home and found him dead in the front yard. We went over immediately, obviously.

He was still lying in the yard when we got there, surrounded by a fire truck and cop cars. You’d be amazed how long it takes to get a body removed. He was out there in the cold for hours… almost three hours from when we got there. Probably three and a half hours total from being found and called in. They have to call people and take pictures and you have to see the grief counselors and stuff… it’s a lot.

We went to the viewing Friday after work. He had to be autopsied. Because she wasn’t married to him, our friend doesn’t know how he really died, though. It’s weird you can live with someone for 20+ years and not be entitled to be their next of kin at all. It didn’t seem to be the fall, so he probably had a heart attack or another stroke. He gets cremated tomorrow, and I hope that gives her some real closure, especially since his friends and family seem to be such fucks. Weddings, funerals, and holidays always bring out the absolute worst in human beings.

I haven’t seen a dead body since my grandfather died. I was really emotional about it at 14, but this time it was nothing. It’s not like I didn’t know the guy, or that I was in shock. I just… didn’t really care about the body. It was there. It was Rick. He was dead. People were crying. I just felt nothing about it, other than it was really unfair to not let the spouse sit with him. I get the investigation portion of body removal, but it was three hours of being told you can’t touch the body in your yard that used to be someone you love, and that feels so wrong. At the viewing I staid away from him, cuz, tbh, the mortuary made him look like a bad Tussaud figure. I just knew that if I got too close I’d wanna poke him or something else completely inappropriate for when you’re viewing a dead body.

So… not sure what to do about my total lack of feelings about a dead body. Makes me a little more serial killer than I’m entirely comfortable with, but maybe it just means I’d make a good mortician. I’ve considered it.

Happy Birthday To Me

I thought I had successfully ghosted D2, so as to spare us both the fallout of actual confrontation. Regardless of if you believe my motives, I believe my motives. I thought it had worked, but I got a message from his yesterday… and I couldn’t not respond. He asked to take me to dinner for my birthday. I told him maybe next week. While I don’t want to be his best friend, it doesn’t mean we can be friends with a good bit of space. I just have to guard myself. I am what’s important, and I have to remember that.

Saturday, Mom and I went to the Curiosities and Oddities Expo, thrown by the Punk Rock Flee Market. It was neat, but there were SO MANY people. The Fox St. Compound is a lot smaller when it’s filled with hundreds of people, and while I had fun and saw some cool stuff, I definitely feel like sales were lost just because there were exhibits I couldn’t even get up to see. I mean, let’s be real, I’m the type of person that would love to buy your obscure taxidermy, wet specimens, and various things made of dead animals, people, or whatever. I saw some cute things, some unsettling things… but in general, it was a lot of us trying to dodge the crowd and not lose each other. One of the vendors, The Room of Lost Things, is a brick+mortor shop in a nearby art district. I told Mom that maybe we could just go to the art district and look around the store, as well as others in the area, like Flossy McGrew’s.

On our way back home, we stopped for lunch at Pappadeux. It’s about the only place in Colorado you can get really real, super great seafood. I don’t know how they do it, but their plates are on point if you’re looking for a seafood joint in Colorado. I also always forget how pretty the place is. They have this giant courtyard made of stone and features and it’s just lovely, guys. So lovely. We got a shrimp cocktail and some lobster, shrimp, and pork eggrolls for an appetizer, because why not? For lunch I ordered the lunch portion of the Cajun Combo, which is blackened catfish on a bed of dirty rice served with shrimp creole on a bed of white rice. Lots of rice. In spite of it being a lunch portion, it was fucking huge. Mom got fried catfish and shrimp. Also huge. We had enough sense to stop about halfway through, but then we ordered bread pudding… because Birthday Pappadeux. It was amazing!

Overall it was a really nice day. Afterwards, I went home to recover from my food coma and get ready to go out. Since I got the costume, I needed to wear it, so I went to a Halloween party at Scruffy Murphy’s. I dressed as a Steampunk Air Ship Captain, and ended up heading down early because A, parking, but 2, the dogs kept trying to sit on me.

So, I’m sitting in this bar, awkwardly, and I ordered the first thing I saw on tap, because I’m awkward, and it’s an IPA called Space Dust, but as I do this my bad ass steampunk skull cane falls and smacks the guy next to me. I, in my infinite wisdom of social interactions, froze like a deer in headlights. Fortunately for me, this gent bent down and picked up my cane, and just went, “That’s heavy! You could hurt someone with that. Where’d you get it?” And thus a conversation began.

This is really odd for me. I’m not the kind of person to talk to attractive men in bars. I’m the type to sit quietly and awkwardly in a corner until my friends show up or I get depressed and go home. So, I did my best to be cordial, normal, and interesting. I thought I did well, but I haven’t heard from him since… although I know where he is every Sunday. He’s a devout Catholic, apparently, and goes to confession at 3pm and mass at 5pm every Sunday at the Cathedral Basilica in downtown Denver. I don’t plan on stalking him, interesting though he was. It’s so rare that I talk to someone, and even more rare that their first question is what my favorite book is… to which I had no read good answer, for I love so many books. Still, he has my number and I asked him to let me take him to a nice speak easy, so he can contact me if he wants. If not, I’m not going to die.

Bird showed up and I mostly left the guy alone and just enjoyed my Bird. We danced. We had a couple drinks, and we both went home around midnight. I had a great time! And I was really glad that my bestie came out with me. We have ups and downs, but at the end of the day she really is one of my best friends.

Sunday we had to come into work. There’s just too much to do and new girl wasn’t catching on like we wanted. It turns out that it’s good we came in because Monday morning new girl up and quit on us, just two days before month end. What a bitch.

One the way home we stopped at Safeway, and my stomach freaked out. It hurt and I thought I was going to vomit all over. I came home, and after I ate some chicken, because I hadn’t eaten all day, that’s exactly what happened. I was VIOLENTLY ill all evening, all night, and half the morning. I couldn’t even get up the next morning, and when I finally hauled into work I was only able to stay for an hour because my whole body hurt like I’d been beaten, presumably because that’s how you feel after shitting and vomiting out your insides for 24 hours. Fortunately, whatever this ordeal was, it seems to have passed.

My birthday was just a day at work, but the office girls made it nice. One brought green chili, one brought cake, one bought me flowers. It was a lovely little affair. We worked late, to compensate for the lack of a biller, and then I went home and watched The Pagemaster.

It wasn’t an epic birthday, but it’s notable because I didn’t have a breakdown or a crisis or any kind of negative reaction. My friend Mel is pregnant, and Lindsey is engaged, D1 is going to run for congress… and I’m just here, doing the best I can, and that’s enough for once.

Welcome to the last year of my 20s… I don’t expect it to be eventful, but maybe it could be pleasant.

Three MFing Pounds.

Life has been hard, as of late. I’m not really sure why I feel this way, to be honest. I mean, yeah, we have a new GM that’s kind of trying to fix everything at once, but that hasn’t really affected me THAT MUCH. I’ll have to do a little more IT work, because he let the company we were using go… but other than that… whatever.

I’ve just been depressed, recently. Can’t seem to break it for more than a day, and of course being UP for a day means I crash the next day. I’ve been trying to diet and exercise… and I honestly think that’s a contributing factor.

Now, let me clarify… It’s not the diet that depressed me, but the fact that I kept to the diet and exercise for seven days, I gained 3 lbs instead of losing anything. Before anyone says it, I don’t think it’s me gaining muscle mass. I’ve been walking, not weight lifting. Trying to get as close to 10k steps as I can. Closer to 6-8k most days, but that’s still way more than I ever used to move. You’d think I’d drop half a pound or something… not gain three motherfucking pounds. It’s discouraging as fuck.

On top of that, I have a weirdness with exercise. People always say the same stupid shit about exercise to people that don’t like to exercise.

If you keep at it, you’ll learn to love it and you’ll get addicted to it.

Bitch, no I will not. Stop telling me that. Do you know how quickly people get addicted to heroin? Almost immediately. Nicotine? Pretty quick. Gym? Fuck you. I’ve been trying to get addicted to exercising for 10+ years. Still hasn’t taken. I sometimes manage to develop a habit for months to a year, but I’ve never been addicted to it. I never CRAVE to exercise. I have to negotiate with myself over it, or berate myself into submission to do it. I never feel GLAD I exercised. I never get done and think, “Yeah, I wish I could feel like this all the time.” I always hate it. I always get done and just start debating taking up meth or cocaine, both of which are much more addictive and effective for weight loss.

Maybe it’s just me.
I can’t think of a single good association I’ve ever had with exercise since I was a kid, so maybe I have just been conditioned to hate it. #Pavlov
Maybe it’s because I’m bipolar, so my brain doesn’t release endorphins like it should.
All I know is that I’m really motherfucking tired of being told exercise is addictive and NEVER being able to get myself addicted to it.
No. No it motherfucking is not. If it is, then that shit isn’t universal, so you should still stop saying it. You’re just making me feel broken, and I have enough issues getting motivated.

The only way I’m any good at exercise is to be angry. Tell me I can’t do something, I’ll do it or literally die trying just to shut your stupid fucking face. I’m like She-Hulk or something. Thing is, though, I can’t be that angry every single god damn day. It’s a form of mania. After mania, I fucking crash. SO… yeah, I can go on that 7 mile hike with you and rage my way through it, but for the next week I will only have the energy to get up, go to work, come home, and cry till I fall asleep. That’s my reality. I don’t like it, but I can’t change it.

The diet hasn’t been bad. I’m kind of used to the eating habits, now. To the point that I had Chipotle yesterday, and it wasn’t even very good. Like, I just wished I’d cooked instead of getting it. It wasn’t bad by any means. I just would have prolly enjoyed my own cooking better, and it would have had less calories. Lesson learned.

Maybe I’ll just stop eating lunch and live off caffeine. I have to lose weight, and I’m not interested in being healthy about it. I’ve never wanted to be healthy. I don’t wanna be fit. I just wanna be rail thin. If I had a genie… my first wish would be, “I wanna be a size small with C-cup boobs forever.” People don’t get that concept. It’s how you can tell they’ve never been fat. I don’t wanna be able to run a 5k. I don’t wanna eat healthy greens. I don’t wanna eat heart healthy. I don’t really care about living a long time. I just wanna be thin.

But I also want to eat food I like.

The two don’t really go together.

My doctor once did a genetic test on me to see what foods my body would digest most effectively. It’s supposed to be a scientific approach to weight loss, because you just change over to foods you’re genetically pre-disposed to digest effectively, and you should lose some weight and feel better with only minimal efforts. My diet was a VERY low-carb Mediterranean diet, and it would have worked… because I’d rather NOT EAT than eat most of the things on my food list. Not terribly fond of mackerel and olives with bitter leafy greens you’re not allowed to cook with brown sugar and pork fat. Just… gross.

I’m gonna try this shit for another week… if I don’t lose some weight, I’m just going to stop eating lunch. That means, since I already don’t eat breakfast, I will be eating just dinner. Cuts my cals to about 800 on a bad day… if I don’t lose weight eating that little… I dunno. Maybe I’ll just take a knife and cut all the fat off like that girl in the ABCs of Death and see if I bleed out. Least I’d die pretty.

Is it needy, or am I cray?

What is “needy” defined as?
Well… Urban Dictionary defines it as:

image

Okay, so then what is a normative amount of attention?

I don’t fucking know.

So, SupaNerd and I went out on Saturday and he came over Sunday. There’s whole entry about it. Monday he wanted to hang out again. I didn’t give it much thought because I was laid up with a migraine that I was convinced was going to split my head open and Athena would pop out. (Greek Mythology for the win.) Yesterday he asked me to dinner.

Okay, so I don’t know what the normative amount of attention is, but I am of the mind that wanting to see someone every single day is bordering on needy. Like, we’re not even dating in an official, exclusive capacity. He is a guy I’ve been out with under the pretense of a date four times. He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m not even really sure if I want him to be. I’m still working it out…

Was I mad he ignored me for a month?
Yes, but flipping a 180 and wanting to see me every single day isn’t what I’m looking for, either.

Is it okay that he texts me everyday?
Sure. I have no problem with that. I’ll text anyone every single day. Not constantly, but I’ll get back to you. Text me all you want.

But isn’t it nice he wants to see you?
Yeah, sure, but I’m not the kind of person that abandons their entire life for a significant other… you become part of my life, not the center of it.

If you like him, why wouldn’t you want to see him?
I have shit to do. I have hobbies. I have four dogs and a cat to hang out with. I have video games to play, things to draw, crafts to make, cakes to bake, laundry to do. I like time with myself. It’s a me thing.

You need to put in some time with a person or they won’t wanna see you at all.
I did put in time. I put in two consecutive days. One of which I spent partially trapped under his lifeless body in the most non-sexy way ever.

Aren’t you just trying to self-sabotage because you like him and he likes you back?
I don’t think so, no. I’m all for seeing him… Thursday through Saturday. I like being alone during the week. It’s the same as when someone stays the night and then they sleep in. I fucking hate that. Get out of my house. I have things to do. I don’t have the time or patience to wait for you to wake up… and no I don’t wanna go to breakfast.

How did this turn into a third person conversation when you started out talking to yourself rhetorically?
I don’t know… it happens.

So look. Here’s the thing. I like a certain amount of privacy. I’m not a needy girl (as I have previously stated a number of times). I am a strong independent woman that doesn’t need a man. If I’m choosing to spend time with a guy, it’s because I find them interesting as a person. That’s me. At no point do I want to see ANYONE every single day, though. I kind of wish that I got to see completely different people at work everyday. Like… These people get too friendly.

Still, I’ve been single for a long, long time… so I turned to other people in my life to determine if I’m overreacting or if it’s legit weird. My lawyer bestie totally thinks it’s needy. He, like me, thinks seeing someone on the daily is needy. Like… get a hobby. My AU friend doesn’t really seem to think that’s needy… But low-key think he’s prolly the kind of guy that would be super needy… I’ve also taken to calling him a sexual deviant, because he mostly talks about sex. He’s obsessed… and not getting any. It’s weird.

I asked my mom, and she flipped shit on me for it.
No, apparently wanting to see someone on the daily isn’t needy. Also, why haven’t I kissed him yet? How’s he supposed to know I’m interested if I haven’t kissed him? What if he lived with me? Then we’d see each other daily. That’s not weird. I need to stop blowing him off right off the bat. I was all upset he didn’t talk to me for a month and now I’m all upset that he wants to see. What’s wrong with me? How am I supposed to get married if I treat people this way? Why do I have to be so abrasive? He seems fine, so I need to give him a chance. I don’t want to end up old and alone like my mother. She didn’t think about that when she was younger and now she regrets being all alone. She should have focused more on real relationships. She was worried when I used to be away from the house all the time and staid at my boyfriend’s place in my early 20s. Now she’s worried because I stay holed up in my house and don’t talk to real people. Talking to people on the internet isn’t really socializing, you know. It’s not healthy. She just worries. All the time. What will I do when she’s dead? Have I considered that? One day she’s gonna die, and if I’m not married, then what will I do? I’m gonna be all alone like her if I don’t stop being so damn abrasive to people and tied one down. Being independent is overrated. It would be better if I found a man to take of me.My mother totally low-key wishes I’d just fall madly in love with someone and get married. Actually… it’s not at all low-key. She tells me all the time.

Mostly to appease my mother I arranged to see him Thursday night. It gets him off my back for a few days, and makes my mother shut up. Win-win.

What really irritates me, is that I’ve explained to him more than once that I don’t eat in public… or with people. I have a GI problem. It’s awful. We went out Saturday, he got pizza, and I watched him eat it. I wanted some. I wanted some REAL BAD. I can’t eat it in public, though. On Sunday I took pills so I could eat Chinese food with him without doubling over in extreme pain 20 mins later. I still got sick, but he was passed out, so that was fine. If I eat, there’s a 90% chance I’m going to be violently ill. VIOLENTLY ILL. I’ve explained this, but he keeps trying to get me to do food-related things. I’m like… fucking stop and listen to me.

Tuesday he wanted to make me dinner. It’s a nice gesture. It’s very sweet. I appreciate it… but I prolly can’t eat it. I could take a pill, and then it won’t be painfully violent, but I’ll prolly still be extremely sick. I need to see GI specialist. It’s on my list of shit to do, right after get Kyrie’s glaucoma eye removed and see a bariatric specialist. We’ve been over this. I don’t like when people don’t listen. It drives me fucking insane. I’m not gonna cave and eat just because you keep asking. I’m going to dodge it at every single turn. We are never going to have a really real food date. We’re not doing breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, supper, or apps. I’m not going to eat your food. I dunno how you cook, and being violently ill isn’t a thing I like. THINK OF ANOTHER FUCKING ACTIVITY THAT HUMANS DO TOGETHER… FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT MAY OR MAY NOT BE HOLY IN THE UNIVERSE.

I just… I dunno.
Is it just me? Do I give off the vibe of, prolly needy and loves to eat?
Like, yeah, I’m a fat girl that brought up the fact it felt like I was being ghosted, but that doesn’t mean I’m needy. It means I fucking see you trying to ghost me… be a fucking man and tell me why you’ve been ignoring me for a month!!! And also, I have a larger mass than other people!!! That’s all it fucking means.

I dunno. Someone tell me if I’m being irrational. Please. Please do.

Charts

So… Back in 2009 I joined a weight loss site. That year looked like this.

2009-2010

I started at 235, developed the habit of either not eating for days, or going on a binge and then spending the next 30 minutes throwing up as much as possible (even though I later learned that once food hits your mouth, you’re fucked). It wasn’t at all healthy, but everyone was so proud of me when I dipped down into the 190s. It didn’t matter to them how I got there, since they didn’t see it. They saw me drink a coke everyday. It’s weird how no one even questions how someone might drop weight so fast.

As you can see, it didn’t last. It got to a point where my body just threw up every time I ate. It scared me, and the weight started to creep back toward the end of the year.

I kept the account that I signed up for in 2009, and would update it. Not to a whole lot of purpose, but just occasionally felt like making myself want to die, I guess. There were a few times I tried to lose weight again, but I couldn’t commit to eating nothing anymore. I didn’t relish the pain in my guy anymore. It was just reminiscent of that horrible place where I would throw up every time I ate… so over the years (2009-2015) my chart looked like this.

2009-2015

So where I started at 235, which was 35 lbs above my high school weight in 2006, I topped out earlier this year at 280.

280 is officially unacceptable. I know some people will say that over 200 should have been unacceptable, but to those people I say fuck off. You don’t know my life. The point is that I came within 20 lbs of being a 300 lb person and that, for me, is unacceptable. I’ve been a fat person my entire life, but something about 300lbs just floored me.

Was it my rock bottom? Was it some kind of wake up call?
I dunno. I’m pretty sure I could get substantially lower (fatter) before I’d call it my end all rock bottom moment of absolute change. It was a shitty moment, though. I don’t know how I let it creep up so high. It’s like waking up one morning to see a strange looking back at you… and that stranger wants donuts.

So, in June I started looking into diets. Over the course of my life I’d tried them all. From Ana and Mia diets, to fad diets, to beach body, to weight watchers, to coffee and cigarettes, to paleo, to vegan, to whatever. It seemed to me that finding a diet that worked for a long run of life was impossible. How are you supposed to stick to all these thing when you’re also trying to live your life. Yes, being thin would terrific, but I also really like tacos… and when my friends and I go out, we like to drink and get tacos… so, your diet of “you can never drink alcohol again or eat anything that may or may not have touched a fryer” wasn’t going to work for me. I get that you can’t do that shit everyday, but what is life without cheat days?

After a lot of investigation, I settled on Slim Fast. I associated it with older women that say they’re dieting, but really just drink themselves to death, but when I looked into it, it’s a pretty sound kind of diety thing. You’re getting good nutrition intake… and if you’re going out you just skip your shakes and snacks to use the calories for whatever. It even had good longevity, since people can go off it and if they feel they’ve gained it’s not going to wreck your life to start it again. I had always liked the concept of calorie counting, but this was easier since I was only calculating a 500 cal meal and some 100 cal snacks.

And so, I present to you my chart from when I started dieting in July to now.

June-Oct

Yeah, there’s been turbulence. That’s not a straight line. It’s not the most direct path. But anyone can see the trend, here. I’m losing. I’m losing without starving myself. I’m losing without even sticking to Slim Fast or a constant calorie intake.

At this point, I keep Slim Fast around, but I’m not strict with it. Mostly I track my calories. My goal for the day is 1200. If I’m under 1400 I’m happy with it. If I’m under 2000, I live with it. Not everyday is a winner. Some days I want Coke and Chipotle. Some days I eat a cucumber and drink a lot of water, and come in crazy under calories. But… I’m losing.

As of this morning I’m under 260. 20 lbs down.
I also fit in a smaller pant size. So… that’s pretty cool for me.

This shit is hard. I can’t honestly tell you if dieting or quitting smoking is harder for me. Both make me feel like life is empty and pointless when I think about them too long.
I am, admittedly, doing substantially better at dieting than quitting smoking, though… >_>

So… there ya go.