Quiet week

The ten-year date from the last blog hit on the day of my group meeting, and I felt under the weather and just didn't want to go, so I played hooky. They had all done a sugar detox, anyway (including no artificial sweeteners) and I was in no mood to justify myself or do much of anything else. I watched bad TV and chilled out, talked to a couple of my nearest and dearest on the phone. It was all good. The last meeting of the group is next week.

The weather has been just beautiful the past few days. I don't spend a lot of time outdoors, but I still appreciate it. It fills the house with natural light; I love to watch the cats jockeying for the sunniest spot under the big living room skylight so they can bake their brains out.

I've been scanning a lot of old pictures for people, and that has been fun. I LOVE to play in Photoshop and can waste hours doing it. I've toyed with the idea of an eventual photo restoration business, but everyone has imaging software now so I don't know how feasible that idea really is. I enjoy it as a hobby nonetheless and have improved a lot of old photos for my friends and family.

I'm eating and feeling well. I'm still eating some things that contain sugar, but not to excess--not even every day. Today I did get a Jet Tea smoothie--something I used to live on that probably has no nutritional value--and am just savoring it slowly, knowing it could be the last one I ever have. That's how I'm looking at it as we use up the last vestiges of things in our house that contain sugar. I know what's coming. I'm researching the food options I will have as soon as I have a surgery date and slowly incorporating them into our pantry and my diet. Asparagus has become my favorite vegetable--fiber AND protein! W00T! Seroquel seems to be working pretty well as a sleep med.

I'm not weighing myself. The only reason I own a scale at all is because we went to Mexico in 2007 and had to weigh our luggage. The ex-bulimic in me still thinks scales are evil, at least for me. I flat-out refuse to let that number tell me what kind of day I'm going to have--or, God forbid, what my worth is as a human being. Unfortunately, that is where my brain tends to go if I get in the habit of weighing in.

The ankle is bothering me a bit; I mostly stay off it unless I have to grocery shop or something. I have to be especially careful on our porch steps--there are four or five. If there is an elevator available, I use it. I have a harder time going down stairs than up them, though I have stumbled doing both directions in the fairly recent past with my ankle issues. I saw the little girl next door staring at me yesterday as I steadied myself with one hand against the wall going down the stairs to my car. (I have this irrational fear that the neighbors think I'm a drunk. I buy a case of beer at Costco for Mr. Salted every now and then--I hate beer and drink NONE of it, and only indulge in booze at all maybe three or four times a year. I rarely leave the house, I keep weird hours, and I always wear sunglasses. I also haven't had a job for a few months. I'm not one to care what the neighbors think, but I have nosy ones, many of whom don't seem to have much to do. Sigh.)

I have some pictures to work on today and I'll probably do some writing. I feel so fortunate to have all this quiet time before the weight-loss surgery to get my head together. A friend paid me to write a resume for her--bought the groceries this week!

Day 86, Part Two: This Time, It's Personal

Phone appointment this morning with regular doctor went well. She is upping my Seroquel (sleep med) to 75 mg with optional 5 mg Ambien chaser if I wake up and can't go back to sleep during the night.

"Has it changed your mood?" she wanted to know.

"To what?" I answered. No, my mood pretty much stays at half-mast, Doc; I just want to sleep. I am having one of those puffy-eyed, flat-affect kind of days as it is. We debated about eventually changing the Lexapro, but when she consulted my chart notes she discovered I have already tried every freakin' antidepressant that was ever so much as a glimmer in Eli Lilly or GlaxoSmithKline's eye.

We talked about the sleep apnea, and she wants me to see the specialty dentist to get the mouth guard made ASAP. I have to see if I can get it covered first; they are not cheap. If I have to have another sleep study, I will straight-up plotz. She is willing to write me authorization letters for everything. I heart my doctor.

(A side note/update about Fun With Insurance Coverage--insurance still has not settled on my psych eval charges. They continue to debate back and forth with the provider's office as of 11:30 this morning. The date of service was January 16.)

*****

Next up: the nutritionist.

I weigh in. I have gained a couple of pounds. I am two pounds less than I was on the first appointment. This is not a shock. I am rather grateful I didn't gain more.

We procceed to Talk Seriously about What I Think Happened. What I think happened is as follows: I am not feeling motivated, I am sick of the BS, I have a hitch in my gitalong, I am discouraged. I have gone out to eat and I wanted a cocktail. I have gone out to eat and split dessert with Mr. Salted. I have gone out to eat and felt like crying because I'm not going to be able to enjoy food as I once did. I have eaten chocolate because it remains the most reliable source of pleasure on the planet. So sue me. I am still writing every blessed thing I eat down (give or take a Hershey's Kiss here and there), complete with calorie counts and protein content. I am exercising roughly half the time. I am not a complete and total screw-up; if it was Pass/Fail, I'd get a Pass. (I think. If I smiled a lot. Probably.)

I tell her I'm looking into getting counseling authorized by insurance and--DA DA DUM!!!!! turns out the wellness center is hosting a support group. It isn't free, but the cost isn't outrageous. It starts tomorrow night, goes until June 3. The flyers says, "help break the cycle of food addiction and emotional eating." It's facilitated by a nutritionist/counselor and there will be no more than eight members, which sounds like a good size. Support, therapy, reading, assignments, etc. I bit the bullet and took the money out of the tax-return/pipe-dream-of-further-education fund, which is flying out of the bank to pay this bill and that anyway. I really need to talk to some other people who are dealing with the same stuff; I think it could really benefit me. (Since I coughed up the actual cash, I know that I will not run screaming into the night; once I part with any money, to run screaming ceases to be my way. My way is, "I will get everything out of this that I possibly can, dammit.") I participated in a similar group fifteen years ago, and although it was not about food issues, it was extremely helpful. The book they are going to use in this group is called "Anatomy of a Food Addiction". It discusses brain chemistry and other contributing factors.

I have never talked about my food issues in a group of people I didn't know. I barely talk about them with people I do know. I wonder if I will be the fattest (SHALLOW!), and I wonder if there will be any men there. (It would be really interesting to talk to an acknowledged male food addict.)

I am feeling some (inevitable) dread, but also that this is a positive step in the right direction.