Bloomsbury Coffeehouse
Soy Cappuccino
Chai Spice Biscotti
I just came from the physical therapist today. Yep, going through that again. This time, however, they might actually approve the referral. I'm still trying to squeeze in as many appointments as I can, just in case, since I won't get billed for any treatments prior to the official denial. Nonetheless, I have been assured that the insurance has changed their policies regarding pain management so there shouldn't be any problem getting this approved.
So they say.
I have been through this so many times, I have a conditioned dread of seeking help. Towards the end of my first appointment, I almost started crying (catchphrase!) in front of the therapist, worrying that I wasn't broken enough, or hadn't described all the pain or in the right way, to get the insurance to approve it this time. Again, they tell me it's going to be different this time. But there was another deeper emotion mixed in that was driving the feeling of break down: body-hate. I just hate my body right now. Loathe it.
I have been fantasizing lately about Bizarro Chandra - the super-healthy, super-well-adjusted version of me from another incarnation of the universe. Bizarro Chandra doesn't have these pain problems. She never gained too much weight - she eats right, she does yoga. She finished school and got a real job - she's probably your favorite math professor - so she has real health insurance, which she almost never has to use because she's so super-healthy and awesome like that. She still doesn't wear make-up but she's still a super-hottie. And crying at inopportune moments is not her catchphrase, because she has her shit together. She is my most positive visualization of myself.
In short, Bizarro Chandra is my evil fucking nemesis.
And lately, I can't stop beating myself up with the image of this person I can never be. No matter how much I can improve in this real-world version of myself, I will never be like that. Too much damage has been done. Even if I lose this extra weight that is such a burden to carry, and recover the functionality and strength in my body, I will still be left with a sack of extra skin hanging off me. I already look like a half-deflated windsock and I've got at least another 30 pounds to relieve myself of to feel healthy and functional. I fantasize about this mythical post-weightloss head-to-toe plastic surgery - so I wouldn't feel like a walking Savini gunk-dissolve - but I can't fathom ever paying for it. I've priced it out and it would probably cost as much as we earned last year. And even if we had an extra year of pay, and, miraculously, no bills to put it towards, I still could not justify spending that much money, no matter what it would cost me mentally to keep carrying that baggage - forever.
It has become abundantly clear that we're never getting out of this financial state. Whatever changes will not be enough - it's not mathematically possible. So whatever resources we have will have to be put towards making sure the boys are okay and have an education with as little financial burden as possible. Retirement is not going to be an option for us, so we have to keep ourselves healthy enough for as long as we can to keep ourselves in the workforce - for as long as we can literally stand it. So, costly indulgences like having a less cumbersome body that I don't have to think about are totally off the table.
So this is the Is! I fucked up along the way and this is the body I have and I have to deal with it. There are still things I can do to make it work better. They may be much harder to do than other people think they ought to be, but they can still be done. And my body doesn't really matter so much anyway, right? I need it to function for my sake - and my family's sake, so I can take care of them - but in the grand scheme of things, who gives shit, right? What I have to say and do and and who I am as a human being, is far more important to the world than what my body looks like. Right? And it's not like I'm in the dating scene anyway, so what do I care?
Yeah, all true, but I fucking care. It's not just that my body hurts, it's that my mind hurts to think about my body... especially naked. I'm angry at my physical pain because I feel like it's yet another way I have failed, failing to somehow take care of myself in spite of the obvious obstacles. And I'm angry at my reflection because, even though I have known so many men - even particularly gorgeous men - who can love and be attracted to women of all physical states (including this women), I still feel undesirable - unlovable. I even feel a sick pang of embarrassment at noticing an attractive celebrity. As if I can metaphysically feel his disgust, or pity, and rejection of my attraction. Like I'm a damn teenager again.
Perhaps, it's some deep-seated fear that, even though I've become strong enough (sometimes) to accept that I can be desirable to some mere mortal, if that same hottie were famous and had other options, I wouldn't stand a chance of being loved by him. And I'm married! I'm not looking for anyone else but the man who does love me. But still, emotionally, I am always seeking that validation. It's something primal, I guess. Acceptance, not just by the Group, but by the Alpha Group.
I am aware of just how much of a downer this useless blog is. But I guess it can't be useless if I needed to write it. I know I am not alone. I know that body-hate isn't just for fat chicks. And sometimes I can inhabit that Bizarro Chandra mindset and love my own body, or at least not give a shit whether anyone else does or not. But that's for me to work out. What I would really like to see is a little more Bizarro from the outside world.
I would love to see an art project, a photobook or some such, of those rarefied A-list, Sexiest Men Alive types in intimate couplings with Hollywood's rejects. All those people denied representation in the cultural consciousness - from my fellow fatties to the gay-lesbian-trans folks to any person of non-white color to the wide array of people with disabilities of one kind or other - being shown loved by their fellow human beings who already reside in that elite space. It is not about being validated because of some beautiful person's interest in you - to make you feel better. The power of it would come from seeing the people you identify with being fully accepted and integrated into this highest abstract ideal of our society. After all, the absence of these real-life truths from our cultural vision can be absolutely devastating.
And we self-haters are fully capable of dismissing even this gesture. We can tell ourselves that these rich, beautiful people want to be seen doing something nice, but they couldn't actually be interested in us in real life. So, I would make it a part of the design of such a project that anyone approached as a participant has to actually believe they could, under the right circumstances (as in, if they weren't already married to another rich and beautiful person, etc) be in a relationship with the person they were ultimately paired up with. Like a preliminary hypothetical dating service pre-screening. Because the truth is that such couples do happen in real life. Not everyone is stuck with Hollywood's narrow and superficial tastes. Plenty are that bad, but plenty more prefer to live a little Bizarro.
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Monday, September 28, 2015
Monday, November 3, 2014
Chop Suey
Mix Bakeshop
Soy Decaf Cappuccino
Whiskey Apple something something scone thingy (which was awesome)
Sorry, not a System of a Down reference (sadly). It's list time! It's been eventful lately and I couldn't settle on what to write so here we go.
1. Go fucking vote! Fuck your fucking cowardly cynicism - even if it is valid and based on reality! Vote anyway! You may not change an outcome, but your not-voting definitely will. It makes you a tool of those who want to see your demographic stay home, who want to you stay disaffected and uninvolved. People fucking died for this! They died in the Revolution. They died in the Civil War. They were beaten, falsely imprisoned, hanged! - in the decades of Jim Crow and Women's Suffrage! Show them some fucking respect and get your ass to the poll!
If they give you shit about your address or registration - demand a provisional ballot. If your employer gives you shit, inform them that it's a protected right that they have to give you time to exercise and retaliation is prosecutable offense. I don't care what your other reasonable excuses are - they're reasonable, they're valid - now get the fuck out there and vote anyway!
Okay done.
2. Last night I watched a segment on 60 Minutes where a female reporter was interviewing a fundamentalist British Muslim leader, of some sort or other. At one point in their discussion he said she should wear the hijab. She said something to the effect of, "That's ridiculous." Which is a totally valid reaction that will in no way impact his thinking. But what would? That, to me, is the most unsettling question.
I tweeted later (around 2am - so much for getting that extra Daylight Savings hour for sleeping):
There are two ways you can make me wear a hijab: convince me you're right, or use violent manipulation.
Only one might save my soul.
And I could expound on that, but on to...
3. Henry has a touch of autism.
We finally met with an evaluator from the school district and she said, in her opinion, that is the term that best describes his symptoms right now. Someday down the road a few years, there may be a more succinct diagnosis, or combination of diagnoses. That does not mean we should be trying to make his symptoms go away - no parent should hold on to that, to try to refuse to accept what is. It's not about him being "cured" of autism. It's just that he's 4 years old. He has a lot of developing to do, and how we react and guide his behaviors now can greatly impact his mental terrain in the future. Plus, more distinct behaviors may come to light over time.
One thing I really appreciated her explaining was that the door thing is a soother for him. When he is generally more anxious - like after starting school, or going way off our really loose schedule - he will gravitate towards opening and closing doors to help him calm down. Halloween was crazy with the doors, which brings me to...
4. Halloween! Oliver was an astronaut and Henry was a rock star. So, naturally, Oliver wanted to be a rock star astronaut. We tried to walk in the parade this year since we finally got there in time for the beginning, but it was too much for Oliver. The parade here in Ashland is crazy and wonderful but just too overwhelming for one tiny toddler. He loved the trick-or-treating though. He giggled every time someone put a piece of candy in his bag, because he just could seem to believe this was a legitimate deal.
Mom was a vaguely Steampunk poet again. My hat was spectacular - a top hat with a crow... wearing a top hat! Unfortunately, I didn't like any of the pictures of me and I didn't have the same awesome jacket I had last year because I'm still about 25 pounds heavier than last year. However, I am getting healthier, and that leads me to...
5. Health update: I am not crazy inflamed woman anymore. Also, less crazy, too.
I mentioned in my last fibromyalgia blog that I had my CRP levels checked earlier this year and they showed that I was super-inflamed. Twenty-two point something. I just had them rechecked, and they are not only under the four-point-whatever maximum, they are loooooow. Okay, I forget that number, too, but, still - a 20-point drop? To what do we owe this dramatic change? Unfortunately, I can't quite say. Here's a recap of what I've been doing.
So, last year, I weaned Oliver and started taking Prozac (or Faux-zac, as I called it since it was the generic). Hence, my cool Steampunk jacket not fitting anymore. But it did basically nothing, so I decided to try a diet change-up and tried to drop almost all animal products from my diet (I like my honey). Unfortunately, I didn't sit down with a nutritionist first and structure my diet, and that led to my weight going up even more and, when we checked my CRP, mucho inflammation.
The problem was protein, in this case. I woefully underestimated how much I would need, and I just wasn't getting enough calories during the day. This brought on intense sugar/carb cravings in a desperate attempt to to catch up - and to make my head feel better. Craving sweets is craving serotonin, too. So, as part of my depression and pain treatment, I met up with a dietitian and came up with a 1400 calorie plan. I struggled with it, especially getting the protein. I finally was given a number to shoot for: since I was about 180 lbs by that point, I needed about 65 grams per day. (Oh.) That number will go down as my weight continues to go down again.
I added eggs back and that helped. And here's another interesting factor - with the eggs came more salt. And in my case, that seems to be a good thing. When I was younger my friends used to joke about getting me a salt-lick. No one would share my pop corn (and, in fairness, it was a little too much for me, too, sometimes). But, as un-American as it sounds, I think I've generally been lacking salt throughout my life. I used to get rid of headaches sometimes by pouring salt on my hand and licking it off.
So there's that. And considering that I have wonky nerve functions, and that salt is involved somehow or other with the electro-chemical process, I think there may be a legitimate connection to my fibromyalgia and/or depression/anxiety symptoms. Even if I can't quite explain it all properly. At any rate, more salt (but not too much) makes me feel noticeably better. But there's still a lot of other stuff going on.
I also cut my grain intake - particularly processed grains - way, way down. Half a cup of oatmeal (non-instant) w/my breakfast, and maybe half a cup of rice w/dinner. Two servings a day - that's it. And in between... in addition to a mighty big salad for lunch, I have made it a part of our exploding budget to buy a good green powder mix and a good (non-dairy) protein mix, and I use that concoction to knock down my morning pills.
And, oh, pills...
First, we upped the fish oil (3 grams/day), and in addition to some other tweaks, I added GABA, Kava Kava, and turmeric. I think these last ones have been the final, most important factors in the big turnaround. GABA is good for anti-anxiety and as a muscle relaxer. Then I brought in the kava and it has been the Great Mellower. I am so much better about keeping my cool, and recovering it, with the boys now. (Be careful with the kava, though, should you decide to give it a try. There was a great kerfuffle over it about a decade ago. Just make sure to not take any more than is recommended, and, as always, talk to your doc before taking it.)
The last thing I added was the turmeric. There has been a lot of research coming out lately about its anti-inflammatory properties. I used to take a certain brand a while ago (it had ginger in it, as well, which is another known anti-inflamer... that doesn't sound right... any-hoo) and I could tell that it helped bring down my pain a bit. But I can't get that brand anymore and I don't have as noticeable an effect with the new brands I've tried. But with the emerging data, it seems like it might be the biggest influence on my 20-point drop.
But I don't know. We weren't checking my levels all the way through this last six month change-up, so I can't pinpoint one particular cause for the turnaround. I offer this summary, these clues, because all of these - the diet, the supplements - seemed to have a benefit. So many of my friends are struggling with pain in one form or another. These are some clues to what just might help. Maybe it's all of it together. I wish I could be more definitive. I hope some of it helps.
and the shop is closing. No edits, once again. Good night, and good luck!
Soy Decaf Cappuccino
Whiskey Apple something something scone thingy (which was awesome)
Sorry, not a System of a Down reference (sadly). It's list time! It's been eventful lately and I couldn't settle on what to write so here we go.
1. Go fucking vote! Fuck your fucking cowardly cynicism - even if it is valid and based on reality! Vote anyway! You may not change an outcome, but your not-voting definitely will. It makes you a tool of those who want to see your demographic stay home, who want to you stay disaffected and uninvolved. People fucking died for this! They died in the Revolution. They died in the Civil War. They were beaten, falsely imprisoned, hanged! - in the decades of Jim Crow and Women's Suffrage! Show them some fucking respect and get your ass to the poll!
If they give you shit about your address or registration - demand a provisional ballot. If your employer gives you shit, inform them that it's a protected right that they have to give you time to exercise and retaliation is prosecutable offense. I don't care what your other reasonable excuses are - they're reasonable, they're valid - now get the fuck out there and vote anyway!
Okay done.
2. Last night I watched a segment on 60 Minutes where a female reporter was interviewing a fundamentalist British Muslim leader, of some sort or other. At one point in their discussion he said she should wear the hijab. She said something to the effect of, "That's ridiculous." Which is a totally valid reaction that will in no way impact his thinking. But what would? That, to me, is the most unsettling question.
I tweeted later (around 2am - so much for getting that extra Daylight Savings hour for sleeping):
There are two ways you can make me wear a hijab: convince me you're right, or use violent manipulation.
Only one might save my soul.
And I could expound on that, but on to...
3. Henry has a touch of autism.
We finally met with an evaluator from the school district and she said, in her opinion, that is the term that best describes his symptoms right now. Someday down the road a few years, there may be a more succinct diagnosis, or combination of diagnoses. That does not mean we should be trying to make his symptoms go away - no parent should hold on to that, to try to refuse to accept what is. It's not about him being "cured" of autism. It's just that he's 4 years old. He has a lot of developing to do, and how we react and guide his behaviors now can greatly impact his mental terrain in the future. Plus, more distinct behaviors may come to light over time.
One thing I really appreciated her explaining was that the door thing is a soother for him. When he is generally more anxious - like after starting school, or going way off our really loose schedule - he will gravitate towards opening and closing doors to help him calm down. Halloween was crazy with the doors, which brings me to...
4. Halloween! Oliver was an astronaut and Henry was a rock star. So, naturally, Oliver wanted to be a rock star astronaut. We tried to walk in the parade this year since we finally got there in time for the beginning, but it was too much for Oliver. The parade here in Ashland is crazy and wonderful but just too overwhelming for one tiny toddler. He loved the trick-or-treating though. He giggled every time someone put a piece of candy in his bag, because he just could seem to believe this was a legitimate deal.
Mom was a vaguely Steampunk poet again. My hat was spectacular - a top hat with a crow... wearing a top hat! Unfortunately, I didn't like any of the pictures of me and I didn't have the same awesome jacket I had last year because I'm still about 25 pounds heavier than last year. However, I am getting healthier, and that leads me to...
5. Health update: I am not crazy inflamed woman anymore. Also, less crazy, too.
I mentioned in my last fibromyalgia blog that I had my CRP levels checked earlier this year and they showed that I was super-inflamed. Twenty-two point something. I just had them rechecked, and they are not only under the four-point-whatever maximum, they are loooooow. Okay, I forget that number, too, but, still - a 20-point drop? To what do we owe this dramatic change? Unfortunately, I can't quite say. Here's a recap of what I've been doing.
So, last year, I weaned Oliver and started taking Prozac (or Faux-zac, as I called it since it was the generic). Hence, my cool Steampunk jacket not fitting anymore. But it did basically nothing, so I decided to try a diet change-up and tried to drop almost all animal products from my diet (I like my honey). Unfortunately, I didn't sit down with a nutritionist first and structure my diet, and that led to my weight going up even more and, when we checked my CRP, mucho inflammation.
The problem was protein, in this case. I woefully underestimated how much I would need, and I just wasn't getting enough calories during the day. This brought on intense sugar/carb cravings in a desperate attempt to to catch up - and to make my head feel better. Craving sweets is craving serotonin, too. So, as part of my depression and pain treatment, I met up with a dietitian and came up with a 1400 calorie plan. I struggled with it, especially getting the protein. I finally was given a number to shoot for: since I was about 180 lbs by that point, I needed about 65 grams per day. (Oh.) That number will go down as my weight continues to go down again.
I added eggs back and that helped. And here's another interesting factor - with the eggs came more salt. And in my case, that seems to be a good thing. When I was younger my friends used to joke about getting me a salt-lick. No one would share my pop corn (and, in fairness, it was a little too much for me, too, sometimes). But, as un-American as it sounds, I think I've generally been lacking salt throughout my life. I used to get rid of headaches sometimes by pouring salt on my hand and licking it off.
So there's that. And considering that I have wonky nerve functions, and that salt is involved somehow or other with the electro-chemical process, I think there may be a legitimate connection to my fibromyalgia and/or depression/anxiety symptoms. Even if I can't quite explain it all properly. At any rate, more salt (but not too much) makes me feel noticeably better. But there's still a lot of other stuff going on.
I also cut my grain intake - particularly processed grains - way, way down. Half a cup of oatmeal (non-instant) w/my breakfast, and maybe half a cup of rice w/dinner. Two servings a day - that's it. And in between... in addition to a mighty big salad for lunch, I have made it a part of our exploding budget to buy a good green powder mix and a good (non-dairy) protein mix, and I use that concoction to knock down my morning pills.
And, oh, pills...
First, we upped the fish oil (3 grams/day), and in addition to some other tweaks, I added GABA, Kava Kava, and turmeric. I think these last ones have been the final, most important factors in the big turnaround. GABA is good for anti-anxiety and as a muscle relaxer. Then I brought in the kava and it has been the Great Mellower. I am so much better about keeping my cool, and recovering it, with the boys now. (Be careful with the kava, though, should you decide to give it a try. There was a great kerfuffle over it about a decade ago. Just make sure to not take any more than is recommended, and, as always, talk to your doc before taking it.)
The last thing I added was the turmeric. There has been a lot of research coming out lately about its anti-inflammatory properties. I used to take a certain brand a while ago (it had ginger in it, as well, which is another known anti-inflamer... that doesn't sound right... any-hoo) and I could tell that it helped bring down my pain a bit. But I can't get that brand anymore and I don't have as noticeable an effect with the new brands I've tried. But with the emerging data, it seems like it might be the biggest influence on my 20-point drop.
But I don't know. We weren't checking my levels all the way through this last six month change-up, so I can't pinpoint one particular cause for the turnaround. I offer this summary, these clues, because all of these - the diet, the supplements - seemed to have a benefit. So many of my friends are struggling with pain in one form or another. These are some clues to what just might help. Maybe it's all of it together. I wish I could be more definitive. I hope some of it helps.
and the shop is closing. No edits, once again. Good night, and good luck!
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