Warning: Expect foul language. I often blog when sleep deprived, and even when I'm not sleep deprived I cuss.
Warning the second: TMI often occurs. Read at your own risk. Feel free to laugh at my expense (I know I do!).
Warning the third: I suppose I should just put a general Trigger Warning here. I talk about mental illness (Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, social shit), abuse (rarely), and my fucked up relationship with food. And...other things. Actually, just consider this a general warning: If you might be triggered by things, you probably should read no further.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Security Blankets

I'm supposed to be finishing up an English paper and a take home test for Pre-Calc, but that's just not happening right now. Soooo...I figured I should get something out of my head that's been percolating and marinating for a few days now.
Is my obesity a security blanket? I'm not sure what quite cued this in my head, but...Is it? I was thinking the other day, and while I'm really hoping to get healthier when I get down to AZ...I'm not sure I'm all that enthused about losing weight. On the other hand, no matter how much I try to downplay it the fact is that being overweight makes me feel hideous. So I guess the question I *WANT* to be hideous? Is that one of the reasons I haven't lost the weight?
But when I look at it from another angle I wonder something else ENTIRELY. Yes, being fat makes me feel hideous...but it wasn't until I tipped over into the "obese" category (from the merely "overweight" one) that I started getting hit on. I wasn't treated as sexually desirable until I got fat, or, at least, not blatantly so. Perhaps there were those who thought I was attractive when I was skinny, but they never said anything. So am I fat because of vanity?
I don't quite understand this weird ambivalence about weight loss in my head. Because it's like a teeter-totter "Feel ugly, want to lose weight. Don't want to lose weight, it makes me nervous. Lose weight, people think I'm a loser. Don't lose weight,...for what reason?" I just don't understand myself.
I wondered if I gained some of the weight because of the rape. Was I gaining weight to try and make the husband I was still "in love" with back off? I just don't know. I really really don't know.
There's a third hand too, and that third hand has a lot to do with my temper. Am I staying fat to spite the people who have a problem with my weight? Am I staying fat to punish my mother for all of her well-intentioned and hurtful advice and comments over the years? Am I just digging my heels in because GODDAMNIT I shouldn't have to change to make you happy? Do I want those bitches who make snarky comments about me and my eating habits (snarky and inaccurate) to have to have my fat ass inflicted on their poor skinny-ass psyches? I don't fucking know.
It's times like these where I really feel the need for health insurance and a mental health professional. I mean, I do a LOT for myself. But I don't know if I can psychoanalyze myself out of this one. I want to be healthy, I want to be fit. I'm tired of being tired, and I thinking losing weight would help that. I don't know if I'm keeping the weight on out of stubbornness, fear, or vanity. I don't think I can get as healthy as I want if I can't figure this out. Which is frustrating. SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

What it means to be friends

Last night I talked another friend off the ledge. I don't know what's in the atmosphere lately, but a lot of people are going through slumps at the same time. At least that's what it seems like. It's kind of weird for me, because I'm feeling better than I have...EVER. Not to say my mental state is perfect, but...yeah.
I was struck by a few things during, and because of, that conversation. The least consequential is that I didn't realize how much of a fibro fog I've been in lately. I was talking to my friend when I jolted and realized I had no idea what I'd just been saying or what the purpose was. Fortunately my friend is used to deciphering my "unique" conversational style, so nothing bad happened. But it made me realize that maybe I'm not doing as well physically as I thought. Which is a minor minor thing, but still a realisation.
The other was that I'm really really really the wrong person to talk to if you want someone to convince you NOT to hurt yourself. Because (and I know how fucked up this is) I truly believe self-injury is a completely acceptable coping mechanism. As long as you know how to patch yourself up...All I care about is if you feel better. If it doesn't make you feel better, don't do it. This extends to all forms of self-medication really. As long as you're not hurting anyone else and it makes you feel better, then I'm not going to pressure you to change. I call full halt when it hurts someone else, and if it starts to hurt you then we're going to start having conversations about it.
But the things is...who the fuck am I to judge? I've self-medicated in different ways. I go through periods where I hurt myself. I don't cut, but that's only because I have a problem with the sight of my own blood (well, not completely, but I'm not into extensive explanation right now). I probably will hurt myself periodically for the rest of my life. Because, guess what? It makes me feel better and does no lasting damage. Which will frustrate every mental health practitioner I ever meet probably.
Anyways, after I got off the phone with my friend sitting back from the ledge, I started messaging another friend on Facebook. He's my BFAM and he helps me put things into perspective by his very existence. Like....I can talk to him about anything, but I don't have to. I can just message him and knowing he's there if I need him makes things better. It's the willingness to listen that helps.
I'm getting off-track from what I wanted to talk about. Again. As always.
I have two viewpoints on friendship that work well for me. One I learned from a dear friend who said that friends are like investments, dump the ones who don't give good returns. It took me a long time to figure out how to utilise that advice in a way that worked for me. In my case it rarely means I just drop the person, ne'er to be seen again. I usually stop making an effort or including them in my life. The other viewpoint I couldn't really put into words, until last night. Talking to my bfam clarified it for me. I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote because I want to hang on to it.
"The one thing I always needed was to be accepted for who I am, broken bits and all, so it would be hypocritical of me not to accept others, y'know?
doesn't mean I'll like them all
or be friends with them
but I can accept them as they are
It's proved a good strategy for finding friends who'll accept me"
I admit, sometimes I end up with some dead weight because of this philosophy. But y'know...the dead weight costs me very little time, and maintaining this attitude and philosophy does a lot of things for me. It makes me the friend, no, PERSON, I desire to be. It means I know how to deal with emotions, my own or others. It means that I've found people who I can call on if I need perspective, someone to listen, or just company. It means that I can be happy with the way I live my life. It means that I can see both the best and worst in people, and still like the human race in general.
I'll never be done growing, because that is a silly way to live. But I feel like...I don't my roots are firmly planted in the soil I want, that I can grow in the direction I want, and I have room enough to spread out to soak up the proverbial sun and rain.