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Tag Archives: daily revelation

Two Degrees! Seriously!

5 Jan

Squish and I have this running joke – whenever I do something or say something ridiculously stupid she exasperatedly yells “Two degrees! You have two degrees!”.

Whenever I do something awesome well, she says the same. 🙂

Today in therapy I had a lightbulb moment – one that should have been so incredibly obvious that while having it I saw squish materialize in front of me yelling “Two degrees!!!”.

Then of course when I called to tell her about it she said the same.

Please be patient with me while I try to make sense of this – it seems the simplest things are sometimes the hardest to explain. Ah I know! I’ll write it out as a dialogue! yay! my favorite thing to do ever! (keep in mind this isn’t even close to word for word – just the basic spirit of the conversation)

Therapist: So why exactly are you insisting on telling your dad now?

Me: Well – I have to do it because I feel like I won’t be able to move forward without that.

Therapist: And do you know already how you’re going to make a living?

Me: um no – but…

Therapist: So you go and tell him, then he shuts you down because you don’t have a back up plan, and then you’re back to square one – having your dad control your decisions.

Me: oh, yeah. right. There’s that.

Therapist: so why don’t you figure out how to make a living first? BEFORE YOU TELL HIM.

Me: well, because I don’t know what I want to do

Therapist: you seem to have plenty of ideas

Me: yes – but I’m afraid of making the wrong decision.  And I don’t know where to start.

Therapist: Why are you so afraid?

Me: Because I feel like every decision I make is the end-all, be-all, final decision about my career and path in life.

Therapist: But you know it doesn’t have to be

Me: I guess…

Therapist: Here’s an idea: Why don’t you and Shmerson sit down together and have a conversation, where you figure out how much money you need per month to live comfortably and support a baby.

Me: ok…

Therapist: Then, you divide that amount between the two of you, and then you know how much money you are responsible to bring in every month.

Me: uh huh.

Therapist: And then you go out, and figure out how to bring in that money, while leaving time for your creative pursuits, or finding a way to make that part of how you make a living.

Me: Wait – wait – so I don’t have to make a huge life decision?

Therapist: nope. You don’t. You can take the time to make it, and just, you know, make a living doing whatever in the meantime.

****the skies open up – angels sing, the sun shines, and squish comes down and yells “Two degrees!! Seriously!” ****

Me: OMG!!! I Get it! If you want to jump to huge heights, you need to build up some steady ground first!!

Therapist: Yep. That would be the healthy thing to do.

Me: Hmm. healthy. that’s a novel concept.

Therapist: So yes – you build a house brick by brick. You don’t try to put the roof on before pouring the foundation.

Imaginary Squish: TWO DEGREES! THIS WOMAN HAS TWO DEGREES!

Me: well – that simplifies things – doesn’t it?

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Food for Thought

3 Jan

ok – I’m making up a new tag – “daily revelation”.

It seems to be happening all the time, so I’m just gonna go with it. Though I’m sure some of you readers out there are getting quite sick of them. I promise I’ll post something funny soon, ok?

So I’ve always felt fat. I remember feeling fat at age 11.

I wasn’t fat. Not even close. What happened was that I developed boobs like MEGA-early and a really mean girl at school starting calling me “porky” and that just became my internal monologue.

I only actually BECAME fat at the age of 17.

So my daily revelation: Food was a way of self medicating my depression and anxiety.

Yeah, I know- DUH!!! – right?

but I seriously had a lightbulb moment about this.

Here’s the thing. The last few years I’ve had an obsession with food. Cooking it, eating, watching shows about it. It was so huge that I actually considered at one point saying “fuck it all” and studying to be a chef.

And I admit – I am a righteous cook. I really am.

But a funny thing has been happening since my head cleared. I’m no longer obsessed with food.

It could be a side effect of the zoloft – or it could really be the fact that I no longer need to medicate myself with it.

Since I started zoloft I have lost around 5-6 pounds. I eat less. I hardly ever think about food. I even need to remind myself to eat sometimes.

In my previous post I talked about my first true encounter with depression and anxiety at age 17.

Surprise surprise, it is also around the time I first became fat. I ballooned up to 180 pounds by the time I was 18.

I’ve been a yo-yo ever since. I diet, I lose the weight, I gain it back again. Over and over.

I’m now around 145 pounds. After the second miscarriage I ballooned up to around 150-155 (I never looked at the scales). At my wedding I weighed 140-ish. At my thinnest I am usually around 120.

I love the way I look at 120. I feel sexy. everything just kind of “sits” right.

And each time I manage to diet and reach that weight (it’s happened 3 times since the age of 17), I up and gain it all over again each time quicker than before.

A while ago (pre-breakdown, post-miscarriage) Schmerson and I were talking about how I would like to lose weight, quit smoking, and just generally “feel better”.

After a long conversation the conclusion was basically “all of these things have the same cause. Treat the cause, and the symptoms will more or less take care of themselves.”

Yep. Apparently we were right. Since the cyclical never-ending fog of constant anxiety has lifted, I’ve lost 5 pounds, and I wasn’t even trying. I eat much less. I get offered chocolate and turn it down because I’m full. Unheard of.

There was half a loaf of home-baked brioche that was literally thrown in the garbage because I didn’t feel like eating it. That’s a miracle in my world.

I passed by two places that sell doughnuts today and I didn’t stop in to buy one. I almost did out of habit. But then I didn’t. Inconceivable!

I feel like I finally grasp the concept of self-medicating. Weird.

But you know what’s even weirder? Food has become a huge part of my identity over the last few years. Even my mom, when she’s got a bunch of random ingredients in the fridge, calls me up so I can tell her what to cook with them.

And for the last few weeks that part of my identity has kind of disappeared. I don’t know if I like that.  It’s incredibly strange.

But I do like the very welcome side effect of the disappearing poundage.

We shall see.

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