Updates

Hello out there!

I got the job! I mean, if you can call it good news. It’s not as many hours as I would like and following the company induction I was only more convinced of my misanthropy and need to be self-employed (in future). I haven’t been given a start date and without overtime, I won’t be able to save anywhere near the amount I need to complete my degree, but at least I should be able to get a loan with full-time employment. I’m trying not to think ahead too much, I’m still panicking that I haven’t got a start date.. Hopefully I’ll hear something tomorrow.

In other news, I got myself a Fitbit Charge 2. I like it so far, I don’t 100% trust the accuracy of the calorie burn and step count, but I’m not dependant on these numbers, they are merely helpful motivation. Of all the features, I’m most excited about the heart rate tracker; though my immediate desire is to lose weight, I believe fitness is the tool to reach my goals.

I haven’t weighed myself again, yet. I’m going to leave it until Friday morning, a week of Fitbit use. I plan to update the blog with my stats each Friday thereafter. I will also be taking pictures and measurements to track. I’m finally feeling some motivation and I can only hope it’s lasting. The more comprehensive the records of my improvement, the less likely I will be to reverse my progress (like last time).

This is such a boring post, but until I start seeing results, I’m not sure how enthusiastic I can be (about anything)… Life is weird at the moment, but I’m working on it.

CJ x

 

GP fail. A rage-fuelled post.

UPDATE

My GP was utterly useless, if this comes as any surprise? I explained in detail that my last focused attempt at weight loss was successful, but I had turned to comfort eating when life threw endless curveballs at me, to get me back to this point. 335lbs, give or take. I told him that although I know I can lose weight (as evidenced last time), I can’t motivate myself to to do so during the peaks and troughs of clinical depression.

He told me to start taking antidepressants again, I’m not allowed to take antidepressants long-term because it can reduce the effect of my other medication (which is more immediately important), hence ‘weaning’ off it 4 times in the past year and a half. The torturous inconsistency of being told by the GP, that I had to wean off as a matter of urgency, then told I must start up on it again, back and forth, highs and lows. It’s like putting a plaster on a gunshot wound. I almost screamed with rage.

Anyway, then he printed off a ‘leaflet’, 3 columns: Low-fat foods, medium-fat foods, high-fat foods. “Try and swap foods in this column *points to 3* with foods in this column *points to 1*, you should see some good results.”

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Teeth gritted, I thanked him politely and left… Before I had the chance to grab him by his mop of hair and smash his face through the wall.

He didn’t even weigh me. He didn’t offer me any tests. He didn’t offer me any help, other than to advise me to try a low-fat diet, which isn’t even a good idea for someone with my health condition (from my own research about it).

I have a BMI of 47. I read the NICE guidelines on obesity, with a BMI of over 40, I fulfil the criteria for weight loss surgery, bypassing the referral schemes and medications. I AM NOT HEALTHY and my GP won’t help me. I don’t even want surgery, but I also read about a team of people who prepare morbidly obese people for surgery; dieticians and psychologists… THOSE ARE THE PEOPLE I NEED.

But it’s not going to happen, this is the real world and this is my real life. I’m on my own, it’s all on me.

And for everyone who loves the NHS so much, I’m glad you won the postcode lottery. I think my next post will be about the times my immediate family members and I have been failed.

 

Emotional Vampires

Tomorrow I’ll be attending my GP appointment, where I will lay my deepest shame out in front of another human and beg for help. Naturally, I am terrified. Notably, because I’ve been failed SO many times before, I’m scared he will laugh me out of the office and I’ll be alone, embarrassed and defeated. I will turn to my one true love, the thing that never fails to comfort me in times of need; food.

As I mentioned in my previous post, the whole morbidly obese thing is just a symptom of my damage, I’m not ready to get into the nitty gritty of it all because, well, it’s effing complicated and it’s hard (pretty much impossible, tbh) to make it linear. So I’m going to break it down into sections and eventually I may be able to make sense of it, better yet, I may even be able to fix it.

So, let’s begin with the present. Aside from all the dissatisfaction that my horribly disappointing life provides, I have a close friend who is an emotional vampire (EV). In fact, without being mean, she hinders me and it’s becoming intolerable. Whenever I get (emotionally) back on my feet, find the motivation to improve myself and start the ball rolling, she appears with drama, narcissism and self-pity. She isn’t a bad person, but she’s bad for me. I’m too empathetic for my own good, I’m a sponge.

Yesterday, she called on me for my services. Her relationship over, self-harming resumed, the will to live dwindling. As a person who last attempted suicide just 9 months ago, this is harrowing to hear, and as I watched her young children (from a previous broken relationship) play in the background, all I could feel was hopelessness and despair. Her relationship IS broken, her partner doesn’t provide what she needs (as she informs me regularly, even when they are in a ‘good’ place), but how would she cope alone? She wouldn’t, she’s never been alone.

After a three hour counselling session from myself, we parted at her front door. I offered to come in and watch the kids while she took a nap, but she informed me her partner was still there and she’d get in touch later. I went home and cried. I wondered how long it would be until her next attempt, a successful attempt. I relived the horror and spectacle of the last time, the endless recovery and the impact it had on my life, then I brushed those feelings away, because that’s just selfish, isn’t it?

I’d heard nothing from her a couple of hours later, I knew she wouldn’t nap for too long, I messaged her to ask how she was doing and expressed my concern. I heard nothing back. I sat, staring at my phone, my stomach sinking and rising, my brain pulsating and pinching, my eyes heavy. I messaged her partner to ask if he was still there and while I waited for response, I envisioned the scene…

Rushing into her house, kids on the sofa watching TV, “Mummy is still asleep” they say, “She won’t wake up”… I creep upstairs and find her lifeless body. Fin. 

Then my phone lit up with a message from her partner, “I’m still here, we’ve been talking, we’re going to stay together”, shortly followed by a message from the EV herself “Thanks for today, we’re going to work it out, he wants to stay and I want him to.”

And that’s when I realised, I am her sponge. I took all her pain, frustration, fear and lived it. She went home, made up with her partner and didn’t spare a second thought. While they were cuddled up on the sofa, calling each other silly, denying the true issues in their relationship and lying to each other about how happy they are, I was sat alone, full.

This isn’t my first time, I attract these people. It started with my parents and it continues into my adult life. I can’t have healthy relationships because I’m either trapped with an EV, or recovering from one. Worse yet, if I meet a decent person, I BECOME THE EV, they become my sponge… It’s a never ending cycle.