Category Archives: elimination diet

And the book is gone.

I seem to have lost the poop book. Given that I’m on day 12 of solid poop and I had gluten last night… I may be just stopping. I got up to day 66 or 67.

I think that having to lawyer up just made it so that the elimination diet is too many spoons. It seems to be over for a while and I don’t have any physical or emotional ability to pursue it right now. Just… no. I am going to be completely flipping out and all of a sudden my anxiety will be spiked so high I won’t have “true” responses anyway.

Near as I can tell the main thing I did to make my body happy was fast. Next time I have multiple days of diarrhea that may play in to how I handle it. I’m also going to play fast and loose (ha-ha-ha) with anti-diarrheals now that I’ve read a bunch of books on IBS. From what I read you can pretty much live on the stuff and it isn’t a big deal.

Not coping-methods

I’m reading this book on meditation. (Specifically because it is published by one of the publishing houses I think is most likely to be interested in my book.)

It is hard living with contradictory selves. I honestly and truly believe that people don’t want to be in my life unless they want something from me. And yet I think that the vast majority of people who love me want nothing more than to chat with me for a few hours a year. That doesn’t seem like much to “want” from me.

But it creates a suspicious feeling. I’m really having a screwy day. I’m most of the way through a whiskey sour (1 oz whiskey, 4 oz sours) so I’m feeling it.

My stomach doesn’t hurt like it did when I came home from therapy. Between the medication and the alcohol I don’t feel so much like I should die. I just feel tired, drained, and kind of sad.

I feel like my therapist believes that I experience suicidality because I “like” it. I happen to think it would be more convenient if I believed that I am exceedingly able to handle most things that come up. I think I would like it if I didn’t always feel like I am hurting people so much just by existing.

I don’t know how to gentle down enough to deserve to live.

It was interesting, actually, on Friday I went to a party. Winter Bash. The Renaissance Faire guild I used to work with has a party every year. It’s not really the guild–the guild mistress and her husband have a big party. They invite people from lots of parts of their lives… but I only talk to the guild people because that’s who I know.

I had some really great chats. I’m glad I made it. I haven’t made it up in several years and it was lovely to catch up with a few specific people. But everything is mixed for me.

I watched people flinch when I was too loud/extreme/strong in my phrasing or something. I didn’t feel like I was that bad. The people who already knew me didn’t really flinch. Strangers did.

I like being able to produce that reaction from people when I want to produce that reaction. I actually don’t like that it happens when I think I’m doing just fine.

I feel like a manipulative chicken shit for talking about wanting to die when I am merely being held responsible for my actions.

But that’s not really it. If a judge wants to slap a restraining order on me because I said things that were genuinely illegal… that’s reasonable. I think that if I were actually threatening to kill someone I would bloody well deserve a restraining order and I would accept it.

I have no interest in hurting that doctor. If I haven’t hurt the people who have raped me… If I haven’t driven up to my sister’s front door and caused her permanent damage… a doctor fucking up some instructions is not going to send me over the edge.

I’m not actually a violent person. I am an abrupt person. I am an angry person. I understand that other people have no way of knowing whether or not I am a threat to them when I am angry in front of them.

I only tell myself it is ok to drink for stress reasons every few years. I never feel good about it. Even though I am massively opposed to AA and I don’t think I’m an alcoholic I have just as much guilt about drinking when I’m upset as I read about in books. Which… depending on how I read different books… actually means I’m an alcoholic. Even though I’ve never had a problem with drinking very much. I think about alcohol a lot. When I have even one serving I feel enormous guilt–which kind of makes alcohol a problem. Which by some definitions means I have a problem with alcohol and I shouldn’t drink.

It’s god damn medicinal. I need to lower my anxiety level.

I’m all the way up to four drinks this week. One at the holiday party. Two last night. One today. This is how I keep me honest. Speaking of which: diarrhea this afternoon. With this much alcohol no duh. I haven’t had alcohol in months. Before I stopped drinking entirely I averaged 1-3 drinks/month. (Yo- whiskey, one drink a night, is FODMAP friendly…)

I’ll stop hurting myself after the court date.

See, part of the thing about my self-harm is: I do it as an outlet. Otherwise I have outbursts of inappropriate emotion around people who don’t deserve it. Then I get punished for not having enough control of my emotions. The punishment is inevitably much larger and more of a problem than my self harm.

I reiterate: what the fuck is so bad about me hurting myself so that I don’t react inappropriately around other people and end up way more hurt?!?!?!?!?!

I miss cutting. Instead, Eldest is building some pretty cool stuff in Minecraft and Youngest is enjoying having the power to steer the iPad. I’m hurting my arms (typing) or reading and not talking a lot. If you don’t have something nice to say don’t say nothing at all.

I made ramen for lunch. For one of the few times in my life… it didn’t taste good. I got no comfort from the experience. I don’t think wheat is going so well. Oh god.

It is kind of funny that this happened on “vacation” week. Most kids aren’t supposed to be “schooling” this week. So it is very typical of their generation that they will spend most of their time on the screen this week. Ha.

There is a part of my brain that knows I won’t be upset about any of the things that is happening in six months. I will dimly remember being upset.

It would be nice to borrow from future self. I think having the awareness of a future self who will not be upset about these things is the best I can manage. I should stop typing and start reading.

Lots of balls in the air.

We went to pick up the Prius because Toyota said it was fixed. Before it could be driven out of the parking lot a warning light came on. Toyota sent us home with a rental. But that’s pending more dealing with and maybe more paying for fixing things and who knows what.

The dishwasher is due to be installed today. I can’t wait. I have a full kitchen of dishes and I’m not fucking hand washing them all.

I have contacted half a dozen lawyers and left messages. Haven’t heard back. It’s kind of a bad week. Shit.

Talked to my shrink yesterday. I felt guilty because I try not to pester her outside of my sessions. She said it sucks but it isn’t as big of a deal as I’m afraid of it being. Oh god.

Oh, and Christmas is in three days. Maybe I should wrap more presents. I have everything. Although we haven’t discussed what we are eating on Christmas. Might be smart to plan ahead.

I haven’t heard back about the only plans I attempted for this coming weekend. I guess we are just sitting at home till the court date. That’s probably for the best.

I’m medicating and reading and trying to not cry or have a bad tone of voice. The kids are SUPER snuggly because they can tell I’m upset. I feel like I’m really getting to the point where I’m straining the amount of understanding kids should give their parents. This elimination diet has been rough in a few ways.

Luckily I’m on gluten, dairy, and eggs without a problem. I’m still wussing out about a lot of the high fodmap vegetables. I’m trying classes of food at a time. I should probably wait till after Christmas, chill on sugar, dairy, and eggs, and see if I can handle some of the known fruit/vegetable irritants. Have to get the body working better soon. Running out of time.

Too much to do. Can’t sit home being sick.

I haven’t looked around the house or the yards for all the projects I’ve made no progress on in months. I just can’t bear to look. I’ll get back to it. But it is hurting in the idle time.

I need to put together the travel trailer for one thing. Oh man.

I feel a lot better than I did. But I should stop typing. So much anxiety and sadness. I feel like a maelstrom about to explode.

This is one of those periods when I wonder “Is it really so bad if I back slide on some of my self-harming behaviors so that I have more spoons for dealing with the kids?” Robbing Peter to pay Paul.

If I went in the bathroom and cut my leg up I would have more patience and calm. I would be a nicer person.

If it’s ok for me to let doctors give me hormones to change how my brain works, why is it so fucking bad for me to do it with a razor blade for free?!

There are a lot more self-harming things I’m thinking about but listing them seems questionable right now.

I’ll sit very still and read young adult fiction. It’s “better”. I’m told.

Days 63-68

63- Instead of pills I ate the edible caramels. Om nom nom. Not as potent but way better tasting.

Brekkie: oatmeal (gf), strawberries, pecans, cinnamon, sugar, rice milk

Snack: peanut butter candy, banana, candy cane, Pepsi (it was a bad day)

Lunch: mashed potatoes (with dairy), spicy string beans, chicken, carrot, bell pepper, garlic?, broccoli

Dinner: gf English muffin, brie, cranberry, walnut, Canadian bacon, three cookies (with egg)

3:45pm- solid log! brown! totally poop

64- more caramels and a pill later in the day

Brekkie: gf English muffin, Canadian bacon, egg, brie, cranberry, walnut, tea, rice milk, sugar

Snack: candy cane, mozzarella, yogurt parfait (Regular) with lemon curd, raspberry jam, granola, peppermint hot chocolate

Lunch: chicken soup (home made, ibs compliant)

Dinner: tomato soup (with dairy), gf bread roll, butter

4:45am- mostly formed but kind of soft, clouded when flushed, yellowish brown

Had one experience of wicked bad smelling gas at 6:45 pm but just the one.

65- I’m still taking pot

Brekkie: oatmeal, rice milk, tea, sugar, blueberries, Canadian bacon

Lunch: gf pasta, tomato sauce, cayenne pepper, candy cane

Dinner: meatballs, sausage, beef satay, rice, green beans, lemon grass (may have had gluten in meatballs–we were at the company Christmas party and you eat what you get), drank a whiskey sour with cointreau.

5am- solid, brown poop. some smaller finishing pieces

9:15am- solidish, smaller, smooth like toothpaste, on the thin side, several pieces

2pm- brown, soft, many pieces, clouded when flushed

66- Brekkie: scrambled eggs, low-lactose yogurt, banana, cinnamon/sugar almonds

Lunch: hot chocolate, gf pasta, tomato sauce, Brussels sprouts, strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, sweet potato (butter and sugar)

Dinner: roast beef, cheese, salami, yogurt covered gf pretzels (these are like *candy*)

2:30pm- solid brown log

67- Brekkie: ham and cheese omelette with hashbrowns and oj

Lunch: grilled cheese (gf bread), tomato soup

Dinner: pot stickers, rice, spring rolls (with gluten)

Dessert: regular cookies and gf brownies with egg

3pm- solid log of brown poop

?- not a solid log, but not diarrhea. wet and soft but formed little pieces, didn’t cloud when flushed

68- back to pills

Brekkie: waffle with gluten, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, strawberry syrup, fried potatoes, Canadian bacon, scrambled eggs, Earl Grey (with caffeine), regular milk, sugar

Lunch: gf pasta, tomato sauce, chard, popcorn

Dinner: chicken soup leftovers. piece of peppermint roca

3:30am- solid dark brown log

7am- lots of little pieces, wet looking, semi-formed

7pm- rock hard, solid poop

 

I find myself feeling kind of overwhelmed by how much I can feel digestion now. I have a little bit of belly tenderness, not a lot–it’s not pain. But it is is like I can feel the food moving around now and it is a little weird.

I’m having big feelings about my poop settling down now after I reintroduce everything. So what the hell was wrong with all this the first time?

I’m eating fucking ramen for lunch.

Ok, poop chronicles aren’t over

But I lost my book so things will get confused.

This morning I had a lovely completely solid poop at 3:30am (which is way the heck earlier than I’ve been pooping but it was after almost 8 hours of solid sleep) then a not-so-solid at 7:20am. It’s not diarrhea, but it’s pretty soft and lots of air mixed in. Formed little soft pieces. Didn’t cloud with flushing though, which is a good sign.

Bummer.

Days 59-62

59- Brekkie: oatmeal, strawberries, banana, pecans, almond milk, sugar, tea

Lunch: gf bread, soy cream cheese, cucumber, alfalfa sprouts, ham, grapes

Dinner: chicken lettuce wrap, chicken fried rice (whoops with egg), Mongolian beef with lots of green onions

Dessert: peanut butter mochi balls

3:45am- long ribbon of yellow poop, formed but thin, smooth like tooth paste

8am- small ribbon of medium brown poop

12:30pm- long, banana-like pieces, smooth, shaped, tooth pastey

60- Brekkie: gf bread, egg replacer, almond milk, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, lactose free yogurt, sugar, tea, candy cane

Lunch: REO Speedwagon on gf bread with no mayo, rice stick thing

Dinner: chicken, broccolini, mashed potatoes (made with regular dairy)

3pm- long, solid log. brown. minor cracking because it is so firm!!!!

61- Brekkie: Noah-special French toast, yogurt, canadian bacon, maple syrup

Snack: peanut butter candy and banana

Lunch: lettuce, strawberry, parmesan cheese, bleu cheese, pecans, balsamic vinegar, chicken

Dinner: yellow curry with chicken and no onions, spicy green beans, pineapple fried rice, sticky rice

6am- solid, two pieces, banana shaped–a little thin

3:45pm- multiple pieces, mostly formed, clouded when flushed

62- Brekkie: canadian bacon, gf pancakes with blueberries and butter, black tea, sugar, regular pasteurized milk

Lunch: pineapple fried rice, yellow curry,

Snack: banana and peanut butter candy

Dinner: chicken soup, stock, carrots, bok choy, broccoli, roasted tomatoes, potato, celery, celery root, probably garlic, bell peppers, brussels sprouts

Dessert: three cookies. Definitely has egg.

10:45am- very solid brown log

1:15pm- solid poop, on the thin side but formed and brown

 

As far as I can see, that’s seven days in a row of reasonable poop. It’s like fasting for the procedure cleared out my system such that I can poop now. Weird.

Drips and drabs

(The time references will be weird. This was written over multiple days.)

Yesterday morning my dishwasher broke. That sucker is D-E-D. And then last night the Prius died while I was driving on Alameda.

That was after a day of no-medication where I was shrieking and shaking and freaking out about making it to a dance recital on time. It was a festive start to the day. I don’t shriek or shake in front of people I don’t live with. I save that for the Gibbs.

But you know what? I can afford to fix these problems. They are very small problems in the scope of my life. Truly, these are problems that are tiny. I will barely notice the hit to my bank account.

We already bought a spiffy-as-heck dishwasher this morning. It will work better (not hard–ours was a piece of crap when it was new 15-18 years ago), be quieter, and use less water. A total win.

Tomorrow we have babysitting lined up that will make it easy to go back up to Alameda and figure out what the heck is wrong with the Prius. Noah will be slightly inconvenienced but it won’t be a big deal.

In the past two months I’ve had something like eight doctor/dentist visits. That’s a lot of driving. That involves going to Cupertino a few times and Pleasanton a bunch. That has massively cut into my spoons for driving.

One of my friends keeps prefacing comments with, “I’m sorry things are so hard right now” and I feel a little bewildered. On one hand, things certainly aren’t swimming along smoothly. On the other hand shit dude, do I even have problems?!

My belly isn’t being more cooperative than usual but it has calmed down from the serious trouble it was giving me. My ankle is feeling a lot better but I’m still not quite up for running/ice skating. (It twinges if I pull sideways at all–but I’m walking on it more.) I am now up to 7 straight days of pooping normally. I want to throw a party.

I fudged on egg in fried rice on Friday night. By Sunday night I’m still feeling good and pooping solid. I feel so confused by my food stuff. I think that eventually I will find patterns in “I can’t have more than x amount of y food” but right now it is still feeling tricky. At this stage I’m pretty darn sure I don’t have a real allergy. Real allergies are consistent instead of being about, “Well you can have 8 oz of z but not 10 oz.” I have irritation and sensitivity issues.

I’m reading yet more books on living with IBS. The doctors who specialize in it seem to be unsure if they feel hope or not. “You will never be cured. Stop looking for more medical tests to find out what is ‘really’ wrong with you. Learn what your body needs in terms of diet and then learn how to manage the pain. It will be part of you forever. The more you fight it the worse it hurts.”

Well shit, dude.

What I’m appreciating the most is how adamant the consensus is that there is no such thing as a standard treatment. Every individual with IBS has to figure out how it works in his/her body. Much like autism! If you know one person with autism you know one person with autism and you know nothing about the disorder. IBS seems to be somewhat similar.

I’ve got to just say that I felt super validated and supported by the specialists saying that IBS patients tend to be wicked sensitive to medication and are often unable to medicate for their problems because the medications are more problematic. That is a huge validation point.

I’ve already been on every medication they recommend. Can’t take them.

Why can’t I? Because as much familiarity as I have with diarrhea even I have limits. I need to be able to sleep. I need to not hate myself so much that I am incapable of thinking about anything but how much I should die. All the meds recommended for IBS treatment fuck me up. I live with enough suicidality. I don’t need a fucking antidepressant that makes me unable to function through the haze of wanting to die. No thanks. And oh man the insomnia. I went about two weeks without sleeping once in high school.

My longest span of sleeplessness during adulthood was eight days and that freaked my therapist out. I don’t need more meds that make it impossible for me to sleep.

And the drugs that completely kill the libido aren’t an option. I won’t be able to survive that. And my marriage won’t survive that. Just no.

They don’t improve my IBS symptoms so having all the extra shit dumped on my lap is self-hating to such a degree I won’t do it. I’m not going to do it just so I can make doctors feel better about having “managed” me.

The problem with IBS as a diagnosis is–they do have to check and make sure you don’t have other issues. But once they check you shouldn’t keep checking. That’s a hard balance. If you don’t check to start with you don’t know if you have IBS or something much worse. Tricky.

Ok, now it is another day. I’m only sorta still thinking about the things I wrote about above. And my arm hurts really badly. Like, can’t pick up a pitcher of water and pour it with one hand pain.

We spent many hours this morning trying to get the Prius fixed. The first shop couldn’t do it. The Toyota dealership in Oakland will fix it though. It may be expensive but  …

I keep feeling these waves of excitement. When something breaks I can FIX IT. That’s… a weird feeling. It’s an awesome feeling. This is privilege. When I have a problem I can just find pay to fix it. No big deal. My bank account will barely blip. I doubt that our petty cash will drop below six figures. This blows my mind every single day. I’m not poor any more.

Holy fucking shit I’m not poor anymore. When my car breaks I can just fix it. When my dishwasher breaks I can just replace it. Hell, I could walk out and buy a new car today. (I don’t want to do so and I won’t…)

I feel like I don’t have a lot of room to complain about my life this minute. Yes, things go wrong. But I have resources and the ability to fix problems. I am so very lucky.

This morning I got a call from the remodeling company. I should have an email today or tomorrow with the proposed design. Things are moving along.

And I figured out who sent the mushroom kit! It was my friend in Oregon (who is one of my big encouragers for gardening stuff). So exciting! We are supposed to plant on Christmas Eve.

food cravings

I’m alternating between feeling like I’m really craving low calorie foods (I’m weirdly drawn to vegetables–I totally WANT alfalfa sprouts) but I’m super duper hungry to the point where I feel almost frantic.

I feel lethargic and depressed, but better physically. I feel like I’m getting a low amount of bloating/abdominal discomfort but a high amount of the depression flattening.

I downloaded an application that is supposed to help you figure out some of your IBS symptoms. But in order to use the app you have to only eat the meals they tell you to eat exactly how they tell you to eat them. Well that won’t be a useful app for me. I don’t follow directions like that even if I “should”. I’m eating off the “appropriate” list–fuck you for saying it isn’t good enough because I’m not doing it in the way that is easiest for you to program.

I need a nutritionist/doctor who will do breath testing, apparently. IBS specialists say they can test your breath to see what you aren’t digesting properly–the problem is things fermenting in your gut.

Today I have nothing to give. No support. Nothing useful to say. I’m not good. I’m not kind. I’m not worthy. I really want to shove my head through a window. The kids finally cleaned up (took three days) so they are on the screen again. It was good to have that three day break.

Noah tells me that I am reacting to the books-should-be-free thing because I am objecting to what Ayn Rand calls spiritual looting. Great. That will be awesome for my reputation. I can channel Ayn Rand as I get older. That will make me more fucking popular.

I understand that lots of people hate her. I feel like reading Ayn Rand was what allowed me to see my family clearly and divorce them. Before Noah read me Atlas Shrugged I just didn’t see how clearly my family hated me and would wring me dry at the same time. Afterwards it was so crystal clear how they would live off my hard work and be nasty to me for working the whole time.

I’m not overall a Randian, but I think she makes some good points about human interactions.

My family would cheerfully act like Hank Reardon’s family. Be nasty, rude, and demeaning to him while asking him to pay for their extravagant idiocies. Yeah, I can cut off those blood suckers.

I’d like to spend the day in the bathroom cutting. I honestly can’t think of anything else I want to do. It isn’t that we are having a hard day–we aren’t.

Instead I will go make some food and reread a Tamora Pierce book. Thank you, K for the gift of Tamora Pierce. I didn’t know what I was missing.

Day 58

took: pot, fish oil, b-complex, multi-vitamin, probiotics

Pre-Brekkie snacking: mozzarella, banana, strawberry lemonade (for the swallowing of pills) Strawberry and lemons are both “ok” but I’m not 100% confident I should be having this in FODMAPS.

Brekkie: fried potatoes, ham, ghee, sugar, olive oil, cinnamon, tea, almond milk,

Snack: peanut butter candy piece

Lunch: oj x 2 (this was definitely not kosher), beef soup, gf roll

Dinner: spaghetti, tomato sauce, asiago, 1/2 a banana

4:30am- dark brown, toothpaste like, not very solid but fairly connected

10isham- long, thin, like a pencil. very dark brown. pieces were breaking off.

5:30pm- solid pieces, not big, not real hard, very dark brown.

Tone is absent

For the record, I thought “Ha, ha, ha, no” was hilarious. Pam said it was really sad. Oh. Whoops. This is why I have no future as a funny writer. I think it is pretty funny how out of commission I am for sex. (For the record, my ankle only hurts when I’m sitting cross-legged and my foot is pushed sideways. It no longer hurts when I’m sitting in a chair or when I’m walking. Some improvement!)

I went to the grocery store with a FODMAPS shopping list and sauntered through Whole Paycheck practically kicking my heels together. I have so many new options!!! Nothing like extreme deprivation to make you think mild deprivation is awesome. (That’s a for-real-studied-phenomena. If you really get to thinking your life sucks. Take a deprivation vacation and you’ll think your life is awesome when you go back to it.) FODMAPS allows many types of cheeses and low-lactose yogurt and raw milk is probably fine so it barely feels like dairy restriction. No cream cheese or sour cream. Big whoop.

It also helps that Whole Paycheck can accommodate any weird food limitation/need so I was reminded that if you are rich you can eat no matter how annoying your body is. I constantly have feelings about that. I’ve been talking to a lot of the moms in the home school group about body-issues. Many have issues in the same league as mine even if they aren’t exactly the same and… they just can’t afford to follow what they know is “appropriate” for their body. They literally cannot buy the food.

I am so lucky at this stage of my life. My privilege comes from Noah. And I didn’t earn it. And I’m not better than anyone else. And I don’t deserve it more than anyone. I just have it.

I don’t know how to live with it. I mean, I’m living with it. But I don’t know how to be… sensitive? Appropriate? Not an asshole? I don’t know. I don’t have rich people skills.

Rich people and poor people talk about money differently. Not long ago I was talking to one of the wealthier moms and she mentioned that she was interested in buying a set of camping dishes like the set we had. I told her, “How funny because I think I’m getting rid of the set we have because it is too hard to pack due to size–want it?” She offered to pay me.

When poor people hand stuff to their friends, it is rare to expect payment (unless someone starts out saying “I want to sell ____” the expectation is that when you hand stuff off… you hand it off) but with wealthier people I notice that they often offer to pay for things. They want to feel less beholden.

I give things to friends a lot. I donate a lot of things. I don’t do a lot of reselling my stuff any more. Partially because I feel like a leech. I could extract money from the women around me when I have extra stuff, but most of the stuff came to me for free. I have plenty of money and extra. Why should I sell things under those circumstances? It seems… like the reason people hate rich white people. I have extra. I don’t need to wring pennies from people for my cast-off stuff.

But if I needed the money more I’d have no shame about selling stuff. I did it when Noah made a lot less money and there was more of a gap in the budget.

I just… I’m in a weird position and I don’t know how to handle it. I feel awkward when people give me a break financially. Last night the server didn’t charge me extra for the gluten free bread even though she was supposed to. I pointed it out to her. The guy on the Christmas tree lot undercharged me and I pointed it out to him. People are always shocked when I say, “Hey. You undercharged me. This is supposed to be +$10 and you didn’t get what you are supposed to get. Here.” Often they try hard to talk me out of giving them the additional money.

I don’t want to take from people. I don’t need the charity any more. Save your charitable impulses for someone who needs it, they will be along soon. I’m glad you want to be nice and all. If you don’t want me to pay for mine, can I pay for the next persons so you can let them have the benefit?

I owe the world something. I leapfrogged up the ladder so hard and so far that I need to not be selfish about landing where I land. I don’t need to act “deserving”. I need to be humble. Pride means it all goes away. I am so influenced by all the time I spent reading the Bible. (I’ve read that bastard cover to cover. Many parts of it I read many times.)

I spend time talking about the people in my life. I talk to my shrink, my other friends, Noah… I talk about the people in my life. I talk about my feelings and what my behavior should be. I’m not a huge fan of the golden rule (treat others as you want to be treated) I like the platinum rule (treat others as they want to be treated) but that takes a lot of thinking and work and making mistakes and trying other tactics. It takes processing.

One of my friends said something interesting to me about a situation I’m struggling with. She said, “Maybe she needs to not think about the road not taken. Maybe she needs to forget that they exist.” That was kind of startling for me. I… I’m not capable of not thinking about the road not taken. I’m completely fucking obsessed. I’m always in the mode of preparing for additional options. Other people… they don’t work that way.

Lots of people get through their days by putting their heads down and not acknowledging that there are other options possible. That’s how they endure.

I’m sort of vaguely aware of this. I have book learnin’ that tells me this is so. I think it is so fucking weird. But I try to understand people. I try to understand why this works so well for people. I don’t get it. I really don’t. But whether I get it or not, I can clearly see that it is the coping method of choice for many people. Oh. Yeah, that’s probably part of what is going on in that situation over there. Yeah, I would be quite distressing under those circumstances. Whoops. Crap.

I had a different conversation with a different friend about how we can manage our interesting overlapping PTSD triggers. I like treating these things like they matter and will take work. That way I don’t just hurt someone and then tell them to go away when we have overlapping issues.

Today I have lots of babysitting time and no ability to do outside work. I think today is a day for me to work on getting my book out to publishers. I have eight hours of babysitting today (in split shifts with more than one person) so I should be able to get some work done. That will be exciting. I haven’t made book progress in many months. I completely stalled.

Other than book stuff I can’t think of much I have to do today. The storm cancels out the majority of the tasks sitting here waiting for me. (There are many things I need to do… most of them are outside. Like putting together the travel trailer. I bought it then got really sick and haven’t had the physical strength to go move around the huge pieces of metal alone. I’ll get back to it. Damnit.)

I have made contact with a nutritionist who was recommended by a friend. She’s in Chico. She gave me contact information for people in Oakland and Berkeley. Someday some interesting people will move to Fremont. That day hasn’t come yet. Well… I’m here…

Another friend passed along contact information for a doctor who could help me out with fecal transplant, I just have to get to Portland, Oregon. (I do that pretty regularly.)

Being rich changes things. “Just suffer” isn’t really the same sort of situation. I have options that exist in the world. There are more things to try… if you have time and money. It feels crazy to me.

I want to talk to a nutritionist because I don’t really understand what the symptoms of having specific food problems look like. I was told yesterday that if dairy doesn’t give me horrible smelling gas I almost certainly don’t have dairy problems and I should reintroduce it to give myself more variety. (The person who said this has been to college for a medical degree so I’m less snotty about her telling me her opinion on this sort of thing than I could be.)

Why do I go back and forth between believing people with medical degrees more and hating them so much? Because it feels like they have the knowledge to help me it is just whether or not they think I am actually worth thinking about. I’m a hard puzzle. I’m work to figure out. They went to school to help them learn how to figure out puzzles like me. Most of them have decided that I’m too much trouble and I should be silenced. “Just eat more cereal” is a silencing sort of answer.

When someone tries everything they can think of and it all fails… I don’t get mad in the same way. I’m sad, but grateful they tried. I understand that different methods work for different people. I’m ok with the knowledge that some of the things I try will fail. I’m not ok with the feeling that the doctors don’t care very much and aren’t willing to try very hard. When someone isn’t willing to try very hard I hate them and hate them and hate them and hate them. I hate them with all the fury I normally reserve for my mother and father.

Because they don’t love me enough to try. Big theme.

My needs are too big. So they just aren’t worth trying to meet. Ok.

I have several tabs open on my Chrome screen for doctors I will call in January. That’s when I get my new insurance information. My neighbor has had a nightmarish journey over the past few years on her journey to a diagnosis of chronic pancreatitis. Her husband said she found a great gastroenterologist in town and I’m going to try talking to the woman. Worth a try. I’ll talk to the nutritionist in Chico (and hell, maybe the one in San Diego my other friend recommended). I’ll talk to the poop-transplant-doctor in Portland.

Because that is what privilege gives you. The ability to pay for the time of professionals. Sometimes it feels crazy.

I am very grateful that I get to keep trying things. That is such an unbelievable gift. That is hope all wrapped up in a shiny wrapping with a string.

I got to wake up and eat a cheese stick this morning. There is still hope.

Days 55-56

55 needs updating

From 2-4 am I drank Sprite and chicken broth. Then I gave myself enemas to make sure I had nothing in me. Many enemas. Oh god.

Lunch: mozzarella, goat cheese (fodmaps says these cheeses are ok and if fodmaps says so I’m fucking eating them), gf roll, ham, mustard, cabbage, olive oil

Dinner: rice pasta, tomato sauce, basil, carrot, paprika, asiago

I had diarrhea, just a little, over and over all day. I didn’t track. (Yellow bile. Hurt. Burned. No fun.) Not worth it. I also started bleeding like a stuck pig right after the sigmoidoscopy. This is the heaviest period I’ve had since my post-partum bleeding. I’m cramping like a mother fucker and I can’t take pain meds because of the scoping. Wheeee.

56- pills taken: pot, b-complex, multi-vitamin, Chinese digestion herbs (from acupuncturist), fish oil, probiotics

Brekkie: rice cereal, almond milk, mozzarella, prosciutto, black tea, sugar

Snack: peanut butter candy Noah made. mmmmm.

Lunch: gf roll, soy cream cheese, cucumber, alfalfa sprouts (this was hella good–I am craving raw green things something fierce), banana

Dinner: beef soup (home made stock, steak, bok choy, ginger, carrots, cabbage, bell peppers) gf. roll, lemonade

Dessert: brownies my friend made for the open house. Mmmmm tastes like love. And no egg brownies. Yay!

3am- solid log of brown poop

2:30pm- solid brown poop–not a full log. Dainty-like.

This morning wasn’t a solid log, but it was solid pieces and being on my period usually liquifies my bowels. So I thought that was pretty good.

 

Weird food cravings.

want salad. This is not a usual craving for me. Also: I don’t feel “hungry” but I feel drastically under-caloried, if that makes sense. I feel like I’m not eating enough to sustain my activity so I’m weak and tired. But I don’t feel like I have stomach capacity for more food.

I agree shalyndra–it is really unhappy making that no doctors seem concerned about my Rainbow o’ Poop. I see everything from reddish brown to bright bright bright yellow (it’s practically neon) to the weirdest green. Sometimes I get this intense maroon brown, which is supposed to be kind of bad but no doctors seem to care.

Man. Food.

Lettuce is actually on the FODMAPS list. I didn’t buy any today. Instead I got arugula and spinach and I hope that will satisfy the same craving. I know I need more greens than I’ve been getting. I know I also need way the hell more fiber but that’s tricky without gluten.

Working on it.

I find it funny that I was sent home from the appointment yesterday with guidelines for treating constipation. Since obviously if I have hemorrhoids I must have constipation. Actually, I’ve had them since Shanna’s pregnancy. And I don’t get constipated if by “constipation” you mean that it is difficult to poop or my poop is really hard.

Fud. next step.

I came home from Kaiser with a list of things I’m supposed to start eating. A large number of them directly conflict with what I have been eating or what I’ve been told to eat so far.

I’m going back to FODMAPs. That is the most sane group of limitations that seems to have some relationship to my health issues. Although eggs are considered awesome in FODMAPS and I really think they aren’t working for me.

But of course, my problems are all conflated with anxiety. Maybe I have no food problems and I’m just crazy.

Days 49-55

(This is getting so hard. I feel so little hope.)

49- Brekkie: rice Chex, almond milk, turkey bacon, black tea, raw milk, sugar

Lunch: turkey soup, gf bread roll, peppermint tea

Dinner: turkey, Brussels sprouts, mashed potatoes, I think juice.

4am: big cloud of green poop, entirely soft

1:30pm: log of greenish but mostly brown, hard to wipe up–sticky

50- Brekkie: gf pancakes, blueberries, maple syrup, turkey bacon, tea, raw milk, sugar

Lunch: gf roll, turkey soup, grape juice, I had a Pepsi and one meringue cookie before I had the brilliant thought “meringue= egg”. Fuck. (It was hella good though.)

Dinner: lemon rice, carrots, kale, garbanzo beans, onions, garlic, tomato, coconut milk, xanthum gum, ginger, cilantro, cayenne pepper, turmeric, galangel, probably more spices

1:30pm: small brown logs (multiple)

8pm: many small green pieces

51- Brekkie: fried potatoes, bacon, gf roll, peppermint tea, ginger ale

Lunch: gf/dairy free apple pie

Dinner: white rice, turkey, ginger ale

7:15pm- completely solid wicked green log.

52- Brekkie: gf roll, mustard, chicken lunch meat, coconut milk yogurt

lunch: rice, turkey, chicken

dinner: gf roll, vegan cream cheese, chicken

5:30am: very solid brown log

2ishpm: lots of small pieces, yellowish brown, very soft, turned to cloud when flushed

6:15pm: small yellow pieces–clearly diarrhea

53-Brekkie: gf pancakes, pork bacon, maple syrup, black tea (with some caffeine) (no milk or sugar)

Rest of day: rice, soy sauce, mustard, chicken, ham. Eaten at intervals during holiday party.

7:15am: completely liquid yellow

8:30am: little squirts of yellow diarrhea

54- NO SOLID FOOD.

I had jello- lemon and berry blue, chicken broth, apple juice, and Sprite. In the evening I took magnesium citrate to cause more diarrhea.

5:15am- yellowish paste-like poop. Lots of air and pushing before stuff could come out.

Starting at 12:30pm I had diarrhea every 30-90 minutes until about 9pm. Then I fell asleep and slept till 2am when I woke up to start the diarrhea over again.

Day 55 is today. I drank chicken broth and Sprite between 2 and 4am. I have used two enemas this morning. My butt hole hurts so bad I want to cry just sitting still.

I’m sure I will eat something later. I may even be good and come back and record it. As of this moment, it sucks to be me. My friend picks me up in a little over half an hour. My appointment is in less than an hour now.

Oh god. Someone is going to touch my anus. This is so bad.

This sucks.

I have had so much diarrhea in the last 24 hours that it is kind of horrifying. It burns and burns and burns and burns. Based on the color of things coming out of me, the blue jello went through me in under an hour. I would guess that the extreme burning is stomach acid coming through with the poop.

Noah and I had a very unfun conversation about “support” and medical procedures. Namely: that begging on my blog for a friend to come with me is how I get support during medical procedures and I’m not all that happy about that. He agreed that it kind of sucks. That said, we both think DSH may be slightly more useful in managing Kaiser anyway.

Basically I said, “Remember me begging for you to be more involved in Calli’s pregnancy and you remember how you didn’t do it? Yeah. At this point begging other people for help seems more productive so I don’t waste my breath asking you any more.” That can’t be fun to hear.

When my family sat down to a lovely dinner I wanted to go in the bathroom and cut. I didn’t, but that was all I could think about. Not being able to eat is becoming a real problem for me. Psychologically this is getting really bad.

Yes, I know that I was going to have nasty diarrhea right now by design. They made me take a fucking laxative (as if I need help causing diarrhea) and I’ve had no fiber in four days, going on five. Apparently no fiber also causes me major diarrhea. So I’m going to have diarrhea right now. This is for a medical procedure.

But my poop book is an exercise in crying and feeling bad. I have a few days in a row that are ok then I’m back to diarrhea and I haven’t cheated on wheat or dairy in a while. And I still have wicked diarrhea all the time. Somehow I am finding it hard to believe that wheat and dairy are the problem when I’m up to day 55 and I still mostly have diarrhea. Yes, I did cheat a few days so I suppose there are going to be people who tell me it is all my fault I haven’t really cleared my system so I can’t truly be sure. But give me a fucking break.

I’ve had wheat on five or six days out of the last 55. I don’t think wheat is the current problem. I really don’t. Yes, I understand that a lot of the current problem is stress (when I’m not preparing for a medical exam) and I don’t know how to get that out of my life.

Part of the problem is, if you start telling me how anxiety causes my diarrhea you spike my anxiety… and my diarrhea… and you convince me that the only solution is dying. It is my fault I suffer. The only way out is death.

Now, after several mugs of broth I know I just couldn’t do the GAPS diet. If I tried drinking straight broth daily I would throw up after a few days. Just like I can’t consistently take multi-vitamins or I projectile vomit them. Festive!

I’m scared that I am going to get to the end of this procedure and have the same diagnosis I have now–IBS. The thing about IBS, they don’t know what causes it and other than managing stress and trying to figure out which foods trigger you the worst… nothing can be done. And the foods that trigger you aren’t true allergies. You just have to play with food forever and someday something will give you wicked diarrhea and sometimes not. (Some people get constipation. The internet makes me think that I am starting to alternate constipation and diarrhea because that would explain the massive uptick in gas pain. Since starting this elimination diet the pain in my belly is 4 or 5 times as bad as it was. I *never* got abdominal pain like this from gas before the elimination diet. Sometimes I double over in pain and have to breath for a while.

Sometimes I think the gas pain is worse than labor. I think it is funny that I am developing this list of things that have happened to me that actually hurt worse than labor. Given that I had a 9 day unmedicated labor at home followed by a hemorrhage that left me unable to walk for two weeks… that really is kind of saying something.

Right now it is 3am. I woke up at 2am to drink as much as I can. Only clear fluids at this point. No liquid past 4am. Not till after lunchtime. Seemed important to tank up now. And quite frankly: when you have this much diarrhea, getting dehydrated hurts. Yay Sprite! I am drinking Sprite! Even though it has carbonation. Fuck the universe. I already hurt. I need calories. If I have more apple juice I will puke. (I’m also drinking home made stock. Which, at the bottom of the cup, makes me totally fucking gag. It’s great in soup. By itself… not my thing.)

I’m going to drink a minimum of four cups of liquid. Maybe I’ll try to force six cups into me. Phew. Now the broth is gone. Bleh. Yuck. Ew. Cover the taste with SUGAR!

We had a great interview with a babysitter last week and she no-showed last night. I looked at her profile again last night and I’m the fourth one star review saying she interviews great then never shows up to work. At least it isn’t personal? A different babysitter no-showed an interview yesterday.

I’m kind of amazed by how many people will email me telling me they want a job and they they either don’t show up to interview or they interview and don’t show up for work. It is just about impossible to find people who want to show up consistently and earn money. They want money but they think that an exchange of their labor for the money is ridiculous. Given that I pay right in the middle of the babysitting scale for my area it isn’t that I’m under paying.

My shrink keeps telling me that I have to find another babysitter. Given that I can spend 10-20 hours a week on hunting for a babysitter only to end up with no babysitter (there have been a minimum of six weeks that I’ve tried this since Shanna was like two) I’m starting to question the point of the search. I could find a daycare to drop them off at, no problem. I can’t find people who want to consistently come to my house to babysit. That’s just… onerous. (Thank goodness for the homeschooled teenager three doors down. But her parents are looking for a house in Modesto. I’m going to cry a lot.)

In positive news: we got a Christmas tree yesterday. I put up the lights and garland and I let the girls decorate the rest. So we have kind of a hilarious band of ornaments. It actually makes me feel very happy. This is the range of their current competence, neatly illustrated. so cute.

In general I feel the kids deserve medals for how patient they are being with me lately. When I start crying when I’m eating (because man my food doesn’t taste good anymore) Shanna comes and pets my shoulder and tells me, “Mom I know this elimination diet is really tough. But it’s not forever. You can get through this. We will figure out how to make you hurt less. Then we’ll figure out how to make it taste good.”

I feel so guilty for my suicidal thoughts. How could anyone want to get away from someone as wonderful as Shanna? Or Calli. Oh man Calli has been the biggest love bug lately.

I feel grateful all the time that I get to be with my kids instead of people who wouldn’t appreciate them as much. Sometimes my friends tell me they would “shut Shanna up” and I think “That’s why I’m so glad she’s my daughter and not yours. I don’t want to shut her up.”

Calli has been trying to figure out volume stuff lately. She’s experimenting with whispering voices and how close to someones head you have to be for what volumes. I think it is wonderful.

Once in a while Shanna asks me what’s wrong. I suppose at those times I don’t have a great facial expression. I tell her, “Something isn’t going right with my body or I would be smiling. You are enough reason to smile all day every day. But my body isn’t.”

Recently a woman I know was talking about her experience moving through the world with what she described as “resting bitch face”. I don’t think I have that. Of all the ways I trigger people to be more hostile to me, I at least skip one magnetic pull for hostility. I’m a smiler. Big time. Safety decision. A very long time ago I figured out that doing something other than smiling was kind of dangerous.

I feel weird about what I’m teaching my daughters. Don’t be quiet. Smiling is safer. Take up space in the world. People will protect you more if they have more of an emotional bond with you and the way to create that bond is to seem personable and friendly no matter how you feel. Your feelings don’t matter; the feelings you cause other people to have matter.

I’m glad my kids are getting to the point where they will rattle off that clothes don’t make you pretty; your behavior, or not, makes you pretty.

It has taken many many many times of saying, “I’m not going to tell you that you are pretty because you changed your clothes. I’m going to tell you that you are pretty if your behavior is awesome.” Earn it or you don’t get it.

I’ve had many people tell me over the past 15 years that I’m not one to give idle praise and that is part of why people trust my praise. I won’t say you are awesome until you are and then I will say it thousands of times.

If you believe suicide is a permanent solution to temporary problems then I want to live with you for 15 years and cause you as many emotional and physical problems as I have before we have a conversation. And fuck you while we are at it.

I want to stay. I want to see my kids grow up. More than anything I want to find out what Shanna is like as a 35 year old woman. Whoa. What will Calli do with her life? I can’t guess. She doesn’t even have any “When I grow up” beliefs yet. Other than wanting to be near me.

There is no doubt in my mind that if I had not had children I would be dead. Sometimes it seems like cheating that having kids is not only as good as I hoped it would be, it is better. I could never have imagined all of the life I have now. I didn’t have the imagination. And I’m going to do some intensely cool things in the future. Even if I do have diarrhea.

My shrink tried to tell me that if I get a “real diagnosis” that means I’m likely to have diarrhea forever that will be the end of travel. I laughed. I told her that I have a travel toilet. I’m going.

My kids are going to see this country. And many others. My kids are going to find out what a range of humans exist here. My kids have so much privilege that sometimes it kind of breaks me. My kids are growing up being told that with great privilege comes great responsibility. I say things like, “There are a lot of people in this world who are so hungry they are not able to think of solutions to the larger problems. It is the responsibility of people who have enough and more to solve these problems because you have the ability to think. If you waste what you have, that is terrible. That is hurtful. You are damaging the people who cannot do what you are doing just out of… what? Not wanting to? Not wanting to deal with making mistakes and having to learn from them? You are going to fuck up in ways big and small. Try to change things. The world needs changing.”

A former student told me that Outrunning Suicide is the book she wishes she had read when she was twelve. She said she cried because of all the mistakes she made during her teen years that could have been avoided if she had read this book. I need to find the time and motivation to submit this for publication. Man it takes spoons. She described it as “It’s like The American Girl Body Book but grown up…”

She says I’m very good at presenting facts and options and not telling people what to do. *phew*

I don’t want to tell you what to do. I don’t know what you should do.

H’okay. 90 minutes since I’ve been in the bathroom and 5 cups of liquid later time to leave the garage. Have a good day, y’all.

Days 44-48

44 was Thanksgiving-

Brekkie: rice Chex, rice milk, peppermint tea (Took: woo vitamins and probiotics)

Lunch: gf bread, soy cream cheese, cucumber (this was surprisingly good), of course with some dill, tea, milk, sugar

Dinner: turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, Brussels sprouts, “gravy”, apple pie, cherry lemonade, cranberry dressing, cornbread (everything was gluten/dairy free)

4:30a- diarrhea

7pm- solid pieces, brown, floating, no log

11pm- no big log, solid pieces, brown, floating

45- Brekkie: gf scones, scrambled eggs, tea, milk, sugar (took all the woo + probiotic)

Lunch: pop corn, turkey, gf bread, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, mustard

Dinner: turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce

7am- brown, lots of bits of undigested veggies, many pieces, semi-firm, floating

4:15p-brown, floaters, smallish solid pieces

46- Brekkie: egg crepes with almond milk, gf flour, strawberries, blueberries, brown sugar, apples

Lunch: 1/2 meat pie (with gluten and dairy), chicken, beef, peas, sugar, cinnamon, almonds

Dinner: turkey soup (turkey, turkey stock, bok choy, peas, broccoli, salt, pepper)

8:30am- solid brown log

47- Brekkie: gf pancakes, apple, scrambled eggs, piece of peanut butter log (piece of medicated chocolate, contains milk)

Lunch: turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, Brussels sprouts

Dinner: egg crepe, bison, green beans, cabbage, almond milk, gf flour

3:15am- LOTS of brown poop. Softish, many small pieces

48- Brekkie: gf pancakes, blueberries, almond milk, maple syrup

Lunch: turkey soup, corn bread, apple juice

Dinner: turkey, cornbread, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, green beans, Brussels sprouts, carrots, gf cookies

6am- very solid brown log

10:15am- diarrhea. completely and totally liquid diarrhea.

 

 

I added eggs back because a doctor taunted me and told me that eggs couldn’t possibly be causing my diarrhea. I added eggs and all of a sudden I have way more diarrhea. I hate doctors so much.

Days 41-43

I’m having a hard time updating this every day as time goes on. I’m feeling guilty and bad. I’m cheating on the diet because it is cheat on the rules or scream and scream and scream and scream. I don’t have a limit-less amount of self control.

41- Breakfast: gf pancakes, blueberries, black tea, rice milk, sugar, maple syrup

Lunch: ramen

Dinner: rice, ground beef, carrots, Brussels sprout (singular–the leftover), sweet potato, maple syrup

2pm- hard brown poop

42- Brekkie: regular scones, Devon cream, vanilla curd (holy trinity of wheat, dairy, and eggs right there), peppermint tea, turkey bacon

Lunch: Krispy Kreme Donut and hot chocolate. Don’t judge.

Dinner: steak, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes

2:30am- completely solid, brown poop

5:30am- less solid, more like tooth paste, multiple pieces

At 3pm I got a call from Fremont PD asking me if I was a danger to society. Cue major anxiety spike. As we were driving to Kaiser. Awesome.

3:30pm- multiple pieces, brown, floaty

5pm- diarrhea

7pm- diarrhea (plenty for a stool sample for Kaiser)

43- Brekkie: hot rice cereal cooked into fritters with gf flour, maple syrup, and scrambled eggs

Lunch: rice, beef short ribs

Dinner: PF Chang’s g.f. menu. noodles, fried rice, chicken, beef, lettuce scallions, egg drop soup, broccoli, lemon, carrots, scallions, and there was shrimp I didn’t eat. GF soy sauce and pot sticker sauce. No dairy.

5:30am- poop, many pieces, soft, not diarrhea

2pm- brown, very solid.

 

And that’s caught up. Today is Thanksgiving. Have a good day.

I hate Kaiser.

So yesterday when I walked out of the GI department I was very angry. I was cursing and calling people (not the ones sitting behind the desk–my absent doctor) names. The GI department decided that the way to handle this was to call the police and report a threat. When I said, “I don’t need a card for the appointment I wrote down the date” apparently the woman heard, “I’m going to go stab my doctor.” That’s what she told the police I said.

I am incredibly upset about this. Holy. Fucking. Shit. On the upside, the police officer I had a long chat with told me that Kaiser does this.

Also, I got home to an email telling me that they are assigning me a case manager for “quality of care” reasons. I’m feeling scared. I don’t know if this case manager is going to exist to help me get medical treatment or help Kaiser keep me from being a problem.

In the past week Kaiser failed to call me for a phone appointment, failed to give me mandatory instructions for a major appointment (I mean SEVEN DAYS of prerequisites), and they called the cops on me. I am feeling so upset I have no words. I hate Kaiser. I hate Kaiser so so so so so so so so so much right now.

The doctor I saw tonight was not a friendly lady. It seemed as though she was very impatient with my shenanigans. Which bugs me. She told me to take wheat and dairy back out and don’t put them back in for another two months. Oh god. She said there is no point in restricting anything else. I feel… mixed.

They took a whole bunch of blood (six tubes!), I gave a urine sample, and they sent me home with stool collecting materials. Oh this should be fun. I’m actually thrilled this data will be there before the big GI testing that will be done on the 8th.

As I talked to the doctor today I complained about a previous plan of attack for a problem she said, “Well that is our system” and I said, “Yes but I am an individual human being and individuals rarely perfectly fit systems.” She shrugged. She is not my new GP. I’m happy about that. She’s just the person who was there today.

I’m still drinking pedialyte. They didn’t give a shit about my dehydration. My friends are freaking out. They actually look at me as time passes and they aren’t liking what they see.

The doctor told me that since I gained 30 lbs in the last year losing 20 lbs in the last two months is totally fine.

Oh really? I… Oh man. Really?

After all, a year ago they thought I was too fat. Now I’m really too fat. They don’t think rapid weight loss could be a bad thing.

I don’t care about 5 lbs up or down in a month. I really don’t. 10 lbs in a month is a lot. When I’m trying to eat as much food as I can hold and I’m *still* dropping weight like that? It seems concerning. That I gain weight when I stop exercising makes sense. That I lose weight precipitously when I’m not exercising seems more problematic. When I’m training for a marathon I lose weight and it makes sense. I don’t complain.

This isn’t that.

My urinalysis is already back. I’m very normal.

I just… can’t seem to stop feeling pain. I’m sure it is all my fault because I’m crazy. If I would just shut up everything would be fine.

 

Today is a loss.

My doctors appointment didn’t happen and otherwise I’ve mostly been reading. When I stop reading I get cranky and pissy and my tone of voice sucks and I sound like a bitch. I feel guilty that when I apologize for my tone (which I’m doing every 2.4 minutes) Shanna says, “Mom you are only grumpy because your body doesn’t feel good. Soon you will get through the elimination diet and you will feel better. It’s ok.”

I don’t feel deserving of their patience or love. Never the less, Shanna has oceans of love and patience to give.

I feel confused and out of sorts and anxious. I feel like I don’t know what to do or when to do it.

For this week my plans are getting cancelled. I will choose to not get upset because I’m all out of fucks to give. We are supposed to show up to help decorate the Christmas tree at Christmas in the park Wednesday after my dentist appointment. I suspect that I will bail on the park tomorrow and I may bail on the Friday evening event (seeing Christmas in the park get all lit up). If I stay home for those two events then I have way more down time this week. I feel like I’ve been mostly having down time lately. Some day I will be less sick.

In the mean time, I’m prepared to say that I’m not allergic to milk nor wheat. I’ve eaten some of both over the past week. A fair bit. And chocolate. I had a lot of milk and chocolate yesterday. I’ve pooped normally for 4 out of the previous 5 days. I choose to believe that milk and wheat are cleared now. THANK GOD.

This is good and bad. I’ve been cutting wheat, dairy, fatty meats, corn, garlic/onion, sometimes nightshades (mostly not), eggs, and anything else gluten contaminated.

At this point I’ve tested everything but corn. I don’t suspect an allergy to corn. I’ve had normal poop after wheat, dairy, fatty meat, eggs, garlic/onion, and nightshades.

So where in the fuck does this leave me? I’m clearing up the diarrhea and I’m slowly adding things back in and…. I still don’t know if it is all in my head. It is really looking like I don’t have an allergy I have too much anxiety. Which is something I was terrified of finding out from the beginning. Because if all of my diarrhea is caused by anxiety and not food… that’s quite a circle to get into. Then the diarrhea is all my fault because I have anxiety. I’m sure someone more rational could find a way out of that cycle that doesn’t sound like, “Then I guess I should die” but I’m not that person.

I’m really god damn struggling with suicidal ideation. I’m struggling with how much I’m bouncing up and down emotionally. It is hard to hurt this much. It doesn’t help that I feel like a whiny baby. My life isn’t hard. It really isn’t. I don’t have the right to complain so much.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Fucking whine. Whine. WHINE!

I can’t even go for a run because my MOTHERFUCKING ANKLE HURTS. (Really I shouldn’t run until my weight stabilizes. One of my friends [one of the few who frequently sees me naked] commented that my weight loss is becoming really apparent. Not with the additional exercise.)

I haven’t cut myself. I haven’t had alcohol. I did medicate more severely than I have in a while. Whoa. Right now it feels like self-care.

I don’t know why I’m pooping normally right now and I don’t usually. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

I find this all very frustrating. I feel terrible. BUT I CAN POOP!