Panic. Stupid.

So when I get depressed and/or stressed (usually both. Anxiety based depression FTW!) I become like, a worst case scenario expert. I become convinced that horrible things are going to befall me, T, my mom, etc. Like when T booked a trip to Vegas with his best friend for a dudes weekend and I FREAKED OUT. I was really happy for him, I really wanted him to go and have fun, but I was convinced that the plane was going to crash, that something horrible would happen and he wouldn't be coming home and I freaked. Like, hysterical sobbing freaked. (Stupid. He was fine. Granted, the Monte Carlo caught on fire while he was there, but he wasn't in it so whatever.) It's dumb. I get mad at myself for acting like that and that makes it worse.

Lately, I've become convinced that: 1)I have lung cancer/any other serious medical condition ranging from cancer to heart disease to whatever 2)T is going to be killed at work or somewhere 3)Our house is going to burn down 4)My mother is going to die and no one will find her.....And on, and on, and on, and on.....

It's so stupid. SO stupid. I had someone tell me that worrying about shit like this is like praying for stuff you don't want. All that did was make it worse. Seriously. More panic. More freaking out. The idea that something like that would happen and it would be MY fault.

AAARgh. I'm so done with it. With everything. I'm tired of feeling like a fucking freak, like a failure, like, well, yeah.

Warmth

It's cold, windy and nasty here. Which isn't any big deal since it's November, and this is totally normal. But I want to go outside, I want to go running (I really have lost my mind), I want to feel the sun on my shoulders.

Instead, when I went outside this morning to take the trash to the curb (barefoot, in my pajamas! Someone forgot to take it out last night/early this morning before they went to work, so I was in something of a hurry to get it out there as it was about time for the truck to arrive) I was nearly blown away. Yesterday when I went to get the mail I was literally soaked to the skin by the time I got back to the house. And it's not like I had to walk 5 miles to the mail box.

I'm watching the travel channel, and they're in Cuba, in Costa Rica, in Hawaii. To say I'm jealous is an understatement.

I'm tired. I'm irritated. I feel really good, physically. But I'm tired and pissed off otherwise.

Whatever. I need to learn to 'stay present', to not stress about shit that isn't within my control. Good luck with that, me.

Tea Bread

I was the tea bread expert at the bakery. For real. See, it wasn't as awe inspiring as being the cake expert or the cookie expert or anything--but still, it was something.

Now that we're on this diet, I'm trying to convert some of the more deeply loved recipes to a higher fiber/lower fat version.

And it sucks.

So, as far as the BS I was talking about yesterday, the health care thing? Sigh. I'm just so not ok with my government telling me what I can and can't do with my body. I'm also very not ok with it determining who can and can't get married. It's just not ok.

T has grown the goatee back, and I love it more than I can really articulate. I'm not really sure why--I love my husband, find him wildly attractive all the time (even when he's sick and grumpy) but the goatee just puts it over the top.

We went to my inlaws last night to give them jam, egg cartons and cake. We wound up staying for dinner (because T's mom really got her feelings hurt the last time that we didn't stay) and I feel like (you guessed it!) crap again today. Not to say that T's mom isn't a good cook--but when you have finally purged yourself of sugar, white flour and all butter like fats and finally sit down to a nice dinner that starts with cake--you're going to feel like crap the next day.

So I do.

ok

Today I woke up happy. Excited to be alive--thrilled that there was a day ahead and all the possibilities it held.

Then I came out of the sleepy fog I was in and wondered if I was dead or had lost my mind.

Neither were true.

I felt really great all day! Physically--no headache! No joint pain! I was in a great mood, laughing, motivated!

I read up about the BS that's going down with the health care reform--was angry. Am angry. However, I maintained a level of cheer that I can't think I've been close to since toddlerhood.

I'm wondering what's wrong. I mean, it's great. I normally feel like shit all the time. Every day. All day. Today was the first time that I haven't, in like, 10 years? For real. It's weird.

I suppose I shouldn't over analyse in case it goes away. But it was a nice respite. Even if it does make me feel guilty. (I know. Stupid. But there you are.)

List

My to-do list is so long. And I don't want to do any of it.

When did I become despondent and lazy? I mean, I don't remember always being this way. I don't know. I'm just....pissy.

I'm having a hard time seeing the point in a lot of stuff. I mean, why clean the house if it's just going to be trashed again in 4 minutes and no one will help you?

All the boys do is play video games. And sleep. And make messes. Well, if left to their own devices, anyway.

I'm just tired.

Tired of feeling like a piece of shit.

On Weight, and Wait, and....

So. I've lost 6 pounds. Meh. I wish that attempting to lose weight wasn't so time consuming. I'm sure most of that is coming off the easterly trip--we ate so much salt, so much crap--it balloons you and then when you quit it deflates. Plus I finished my period (Welcome, TMI seekers!) and that always makes me lose like, 4 pounds. So I've actually lost 2. Ish.

Idk. Like, you'd think that if you could drop like, 10 pounds right off it would be good motivation to stick with it. Instead, you lose a pound here, a pound there, feel like total ass, tired, angry about having to drink so much water, your ass hurts from working out, you want to sit down and eat ice cream (or whatever) but you get to have--whee!--a banana or something. I know that losing too much weight too fast will pretty much guarantee you'll gain it back, but really? Really.

I'm not trying to deprive myself, I'm eating when I'm hungry and all that, I'm just watching portions and what goes inside my mouth. And getting exercise. I don't love it.

On more exciting news, I totally kicked T's ass while working out last night. That made me feel a little better about progress--being that we were on an even out-of-shape keel a week ago. It's something.

I need to go for a run, now. I hate it, hate it, hate it. HATE IT. But it works, so, well, there you go.

I'm over it. I looked at the wedding pictures again and it's just....shameful. Shameful, how I couldn't find it inside myself to try and look decent for one goddamn day. I'm so embarrassed that for the rest of my life I get to look at the pictures from one of the best days, most momentous days of my life and see me, as a whale. Awesome.

I suppose that's motivation. Seeing what I really look like, what a walking disaster I am, stop deluding myself into thinking I look like anything close to decent.

Bowie

I love David Bowie. Like, it's almost not ok. I want him to come to my house and talk to me while I mop the floors or something. We can go yarn shopping together. He could record my answering machine message and I would make him dinner. He could help T winterize the garden. Work on the Jeep.

Ok, enough weird fantasies for one blog entry.

You know what's funny? Forcing people to back pedal. It's awesome.

I need to work out again today. Yesterday was 'light duty' day, so we only went running and did an assload of crunches. It's super windy right now, so I don't know if I'm going running today. Maybe I'll run the vacuum with extra gusto.

T hung shelves in our guest room, and they're super awesome. As soon as he was done, I went in and covered them in photos and stuff, took a step back, and disappeared into our bedroom. Came out, put the 'finishing touch' on the shelf, and was happy. What was the finishing touch? A stuffed zombie. He's a plush toy--His body comes apart, he has a brain in his hand, it's SO COOL. (We sort of collect zombie stuff. Ask me about my new stand mixer sometime.) Hey, I gotta keep it real, right? Can't have too much class in one spot--it's our house we're talking about here. Maybe I'll take pics and post them. Hell, maybe I'll do that now.





So those are totally in backwards order. Whatever.