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One of those days. . .

May 11, 2011

I had one of those days. 

I never should’ve stepped on that damn scale.  But I did.  And my poor psyche couldn’t handle what was looking back at me. 

You see, I have a chronic pain issue from an injury to my back in 2009.  It has caused immobility for a time, followed by teeny tiny baby steps toward trying to live a semi-normal life.

I am still so far from living, due to the pain.  It is unreal.  If I stop and think about it for too long, I will get overcome with a harsh reality of what all I canNOT do.

Basic daily chores are difficult for me, so my precious mom comes over every single weekday that hubs is gone and helps me handle my life.  From laundry to childcare, dishes to toys, she is my #1 help. 

Because of this chronic pain, I am not able to live an active life at all.  At all.  Sometimes it hurts my body to walk to another room & sometimes it doesn’t start hurting until I’m on my 3rd round of sorting laundry.  It hurts all the time, it’s just a question of how much it will hurt.

So forget working out. At the gym.  Oh how I miss my gym days more than I ever thought possible. 

Lack of activity means more weight gain. 

Due to PCOS, my body is now acting as a diabetic.  In fact, based on some blood test results over the past few months, it may be technically diabetic at this point.

Good times.  Not.

So I got on the scale this morning.  & it was a mistake.  It threw me off my game for the entire day.  I am so ashamed to say that.  To say that my weight is somehow intertwined with my self worth is just plain wrong.  But its true.  And now I’m going to work at figuring out how to untangle the two. 

Regardless of how one looks, a love for self should be strong. And unconditional. 

I started spiraling; second-guessing if I am just not cut out to be off of any medication; second-guessing if I am just not cut out to be a MOM to anyone, especially my sweet lil cutes; second-guessing if I am just not cut out to be a wife to anyone, especially my hubs.

I finally got up the nerve to text hubs mid-day.  Got up the nerve, you ask? 

Yes, because I do not like to alarm hubs when going through a medication change and I start acting irrational.  I’m sure it just sends him into a panic mode of “what-ifs”.

So I texted him about my unpleasant meeting with the scale this morning and how it has ruined my life.  I texted that I was not in a good place (emotionally) and that I was sorry. blah blah blah

He texted back with some humor, because that’s how he rolls.  I intentionally didn’t text laugh because I was feeling that low.  He asked me to wait to talk when he got home.

He got home and we laid on the bed together talking.  In between our sassy, feisty princess girl gave her .02 cents.  He really talked me back up out of the hole.

He really did.

I didn’t think I was “pullable”.  But I was, I guess.

I’m still unsettled emotionally.  & part of it is withdrawls from the medications.  & part of it is my life in its current state.

But I am so grateful to have a hubs that is willing to even try to pull me up.  It would honestly be totally understandable if he just didn’t have any more in him.  I mean, we first got dealt the blows of PPD/PPA in 2003.  And it has been sucking us dry ever since.  Or so it seems, at times like today.

So I’ve made it another day.  Another day of survival.


I am planning to try some accupuncture and stuff for the depression.  I want to give some homeopathy a chance for a second.  If it works, that’s the route I will take for now.  If it doesn’t work, or doesn’t work fast enough, I will promptly meet with my dr for a new trial prescription. 

Please don’t substitute my own treatment for your own.  I am not here to give medical advice, so don’t take any.  *cheese*

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