Work in Progress

4/3/21

I’ve known all of my life that I’ve been different. I’ve also known all of my life that I’ve never been small. I’ve actually been very large since I was in about 9th grade or so. I’ve tried here and there to try and get a grasp on it. I’m not one to blame my issues on others or on issues that are going on in my life because I know that I am the reason that I got to the weight that I did. 

When I saw the top left picture from January 2019, I was completely disgusted with myself. I hated how I looked, how I felt(physically and emotionally) and I hated myself. At my largest, I was a whopping 415 pounds. I did what I had to do to get my lifelong depression under control, I started Wellbutrin for the depression and to help curb my appetite. It’s not that I have a large appetite, it’s that when I am deep in my depression...I eat. I eat because it makes me feel better, but then I feel like a piece of shit because I ate WAAAYYY more than I should have. 

The top right photo is 1 day shy of a year later and I was 80 pounds down. I felt better, I felt like I looked better and I felt SLIGHTLY better about myself. March 2020, I was 95 pounds down, COVID was starting to really pick up in my area(like others as well) and we were put on lockdown and I was falling back into my depression(the dosage of the Wellbutrin wasn’t working anymore). Falling back into the hole that was my depression really fucked me up mentally, emotionally and then physically. I started putting weight back on and couldn’t get my shit together to put a stop to it. 

January 2021, I had my year follow up with my PCP and told her what was going on. We stopped the Wellbutrin and started Zoloft. I went into a hypomanic episode, had another follow up with my PCP because of starting the Zoloft. Told her what was going on. Saw a psych and hated him, I mean absolutely hated him from the beginning. Not because I wasn’t open to seeing a psych, but because he seemed fully disinterested in what was going on. He diagnosed me bipolar 2(which truly I believe, because I’ve had more than that 1 episode of hypomania), told me to stop taking the antidepressant and start Depakote. Well, I learned from my mother that I had been on that before way way back in the day due to my now dormant epilepsy, so I decided I was just gonna not take the Depakote and then kind of just stopped taking the Zoloft. I feel better emotionally, but I’ve also been taking CBD to see if that does anything for me, while waiting until the middle of May when I get to see a different psych(which will hopefully seem more interested than the first one). 

 Bottom photo is February 2021, I weighed 390 pounds and I was back to being disgusted with myself. I wanted to get my shit together, but I was so hypomanic and just dealing with the rollercoaster of what was happening to me(I had also changed positions at work and got a bigger load of stuff to do) that I couldn’t get my shit together. 

Honestly, changing the job positions has been a huge help for me because the 2 people that I work more closely with, have been a huge help for me in all aspects. They have and are going through the working out and being healthy and just bettering their lives. They've rubbed off on me and even though, it’s only been about 2 weeks of working out(not every day, out of a work week, I’m working out 4 days a week) and while I have only seen a 2 pound loss, I can feel a difference in my shirts, in my pants, in my arms(I’m definitely defining my arms, so while I have lost 2 pounds in 2 weeks, I have gained more muscle). 

I am hoping that I can make this positive change last. My pcp and I agreed back in January 2019 that being 250 pounds would make her happy with my health and while it’s still more than I would want to be, I want to see if that’ll help me. 

It’s really mostly the effects of the virus, everything being shut down, only being able to leave for essential things.

I love staying home, but when I don’t have the options to do things, like get my hair cut, it fucking brings me way the fuck down.

And I know getting a haircut is small and minuscule, but my hair grows fast, I have to have a haircut every 3 weeks or it starts to get wild. A clean cut makes me happy, it makes me feel good about myself.

I do work at a hospital, so I do have to leave my house, but leaving for work is completely different than leaving to human interaction with a friend.

I kind of want to fucking drive off a cliff, but only a little.