Tag Archives: body stuff

Holy crap am I glad to be back with Kaiser.

That went so well. The optometrist remembered me from 3.5 years ago (he asked me how teaching was going and how my daughter was–that's not a level of being remembered I expected) and I was right about my eyes going downhill. My degree of vision issue has doubled. Totally time for new glasses and explains the blinding headaches.

The primary care doctor was quiet and kind of distant at first but then he mirrored what I said, validated my experiences, trusted what I had to say and gave me exactly the plan of treatment I went in there requesting. He commented that I am obviously extremely educated about my body and my needs and he thinks I am making good decisions about the next few steps.

That feels good. So three hours and $700 later I have new glasses, sunglasses, sleeping pills and a scrip for physical therapy. That's what I wanted. Excellent.

I will be willing to go back and talk about my stomach. I triaged my mental health and decided I wasn't up for fighting a potentially hostile stranger about something that feels harder to pinpoint. I am very clear about where I am with my depression/anxiety/ptsd/sleep and my arms. Those are clear cut for me. The stomach stuff is murkier and will require more trust. I feel like the first step was made. I feel really grateful.

I hate doctors so much.

Today I get to go see two doctors. First to get my eyes checked (I haven't gotten new glasses in three years and I have a constant headache–I think from eye strain) and then to talk to someone about my arms and sleep. I'm bailing on discussing my stomach today because that pain backed off once I stopped running. Which means it is a lower priority for me now.

I hope this is productive. *sigh*

One of the weird things about not having a scale is I can see that my body is changing, but I'm not entirely sure how or in what ways. I'm not tracking any of it. I now have a weird hollowed out section right under my ribs. My "apron" (the leftover pregnancy skin) is a lot smaller than it was–but I don't have much data. My measurements aren't changing. I track those because I want Noah to buy me clothes so I write my current measurements on the white board in our room.

Actually my waist is an inch bigger than it was. Nothing else has changed. But that hollowed out section is different looking. Bodies are odd.

Somehow appropriate.

I was curious what I weighed the day I got back from the marathon trip. I stepped on my scale. Apparently a battery burst. It totally fried the electronics. So I can't weigh myself. I haven't weighed myself since before my birthday.

Maybe I should decide that now that I am over 30 I just don't get weighed any more. That information doesn't actually affect my life in a positive way. Hm.

I've had a few people ask me for a running update. Sure. I love requests. My attitude has been better while running. I am past the hump of it feeling "too hard" to do what I am doing. This week I am running sixteen miles. Next week is twenty. I'm not up to ten miles on Saturdays yet. Next month. Most days and most runs I've been maintaining 5.10-5.30 mph. Occasionally I crawl for a bit and come in just under 5mph but that is rare lately.

One of the things that I am disliking the most is my changing perception of my body.I've mostly been on the chubby side but I've never been all that big. My lifetime maximum weight was 212 while pregnant. Not-pregnant it was 208. I spend a lot of time hanging out in the 180's with occasional dips down into the 160's when my activity level goes up. That seems to be my "active" weight range. Occasionally in times of great mental/emotional distress I drop down into the 150's. I have usually had a lot of mixed feelings about these periods. On one hand they are by far the most psychologically unhealthy periods of my life on the other hand random people in public no longer stop me to tell me I should lose weight.

Lately I feel like I am bordering on body dysmorphia. I have always had an hour glass figure. That's just how my body looks. I have hundreds of pictures to prove it. I don't any more. Right now I'm doing the apple thing. I don't tend to feel hostility about other people having that basic body shape but right now I feel intensely bad about being shaped that way. I think about it a lot. I'm having to deal with the fact that my clothes don't fit at all the way I am used to them fitting and I feel angry and ashamed and bad because my body isn't looking like me. It's weird. I'm used to my waist being a size smaller than my thighs. Now my waist is at least a size bigger. I feel fat in a way I haven't ever felt before. I feel repulsed by the way I look. I think about it a lot. A really lot. 

I watched the Harry Potter movies recently. At the very end there is this long panoramic pull back shot of Harry, Hermione and Ron. I was fixated on the fact that it looked like I could put my hand between her thighs and be able to hold my hand horizontally and barely touch skin on either side. Holy moly she has skinny thighs. It felt really dramatic. It looked very childlike to me. I'm used to women having thighs that touch. This isn't to say that all women have heavy thighs. There are lots of grown up women with thing legs. I know this–I still had this visceral reaction to Hermione in that shot. For the past few days I keep standing in front of mirrors and feeling very perplexed because if I stand with my feet directly below my shoulders and look in a mirror my thighs barely touch. Mine have touched full on down to the knees for most of my adult life. Now the top inch touches. I don't think my thighs will rub by the time I get to the marathon.

I feel weird in my body. I feel like I am borrowing a body. I am pretending to be an athletic person. I feel disconnected from my legs–like they represent someone else. They just don't fit the rest of me. I feel weird and bad about the baby belly. Like all of a sudden it is magically a problem. My body has always been proportional! I liked being proportional! Fuck you belly! Everything else is getting smaller what is your fucking problem? But I this attachment in my mind to not trying to lose weight. So I eat a lot trying to keep weight on. My belly is not getting smaller. Ahem.

Especially with my hair this short. Especially with how dark of a tan I have now. I no longer look pale and goth-like. I savored that pallor for many years. Now I garden and run and spend the whole f'in day in the park. I don't wear sunscreen. I don't burn so I don't see the point in putting cancer causing agents on my skin. Noah needs to wear sunblock. Oh man.

I feel very uncomfortable about my body. I don't recognize it. I don't know it. I have a lot of time understanding its pleasure sensors and food needs. I feel very disconnected. I'm not sure if I have always been this disconnected or if it is a recent change. But all of a sudden I feel loathing for my body I am not used to. I was fairly cheerful about being fat. I knew how to dress to look good. I was "friendly fat" so to speak. I had some size 18 clothing, but not much. Mostly I was in the no-womans-land between Misses 14 and Womens 14. I certainly was encouraged by society to feel bad about my size. I was told by the media that I was disgusting. I didn't feel disgusting. I liked my body. I thought I looked quite good naked and that was what I cared about.

I don't like how I look naked right now. I feel lumpy and floppy and disproportionate. I feel like my breasts and my hips look sad and deflated next to my belly. I don't like looking at my belly and yet I do it compulsively. I think this is just my lizard-brain looking for another way to self-harm. If I decide that my belly is my enemy and disgusting and I should do something about it while I am simultaneously training for a marathon I am going to hurt myself quite badly. 

I'm afraid of a lot of the process of training for running. If I want to meet my goals I have to treat my body gently. I have to meet its needs. I'm not sure I even know what its needs are. I'm struggling with finding balance between needing to "work on my diet," because I do need to work towards more nutritious food, and not wanting to obsess and punish myself for being bad. It's hard when I realize that my approach to myself in my head is entirely punitive. If I breathe too loudly I should be punished. I'm taking up space in this world that wasn't meant for me. I am struggling with the size of the box in my head I am allowed to fill. 

Right now my weight is hanging out in the upper 150's/lower 160's. My legs are thinner than they have ever been in my life. My arms thinned out in pregnancy. My face thinned out in pregnancy. My upper back thinned out in pregnancy. Now my upper body really wants to hang out in a size 8. My hips would probably be happiest in a size 10 or 12. My waist is quite firmly still in size 14. With muffin top. I feel like my body is taking up the wrong space. I am wrong. I am out of place. I am out of order. I tell the kids my belly is awesome. Shanna is very affectionate with my belly and I encourage and support that. But I feel distant from this body. I want her to have only positive associations with her mothers body. I talk to her about fat redistributing on your body at different stages and sometimes you have more and sometimes you have less. I keep it very value neutral. I am extremely verbally positive about heavy people being attractive.

And I look in the mirror and I see not my body. I feel gross. I feel like I am not right. I am bad. I am too big and I am too small. I am not me. I'm trying not to show any actual panic. I really am a good actor.

It's interesting and useful for me to think about this current set of obsessive thoughts just as this week's version of self-harm. I'm really enjoying Over the Influence. It's the book on Harm Reduction Therapy. If the goal is just to be always moving towards less harm then I can give myself a little bit of a break. I know how much less harmful this thought process is than most of what I've done. I can see that I'm trying to justify feeling bad. I know that really I just feel bad and I don't need a why. If I can talk to my Lizard brain about it a bit I can see where the need to feel bad lives. 

I've been spending a fair bit of time in front of mirrors. I try to close the door so folks can't hear me. I look at myself. I say all of the things I wish that other people would say. I need to stop looking outside myself for validation. I can't have it. So I'm trying to give it to myself. I feel silly. I cry. But I say it. 

You are good. You are kind. You are patient. You are generous. You are honest. You are trustworthy. You work very hard. You have come a long way. Your body is perfect. Your body made two of the most delightful creatures in the world. What could possibly be wrong with it? You are strong. You will get stronger. Keep working. You will be able to do all of the things you say you will. You keep your fucking word. You are gentle. You are smart. You are resourceful. If you do not find a way you will make a way. Keep going. There is a lot left to do and not a whole lot of time.

 I am no longer defined by my sex appeal. I no longer need to worry about attracting attention the way I once did. I no longer particularly need to worry if my hip to waist ratio is appealing. It feels like I am getting a divorce from my body. I no longer live in it. I'm doing other things. I want to come back but I don't know this person. This person is invisible in different ways and visible for different reasons. I don't know how to handle it. I feel scared of this person. Not because this person will hurt me but because this person is vulnerable in ways I don't fully understand. I can't see the scope of it properly. I don't have much experience being this person out in the world. I have only been this person a short time. I'm still adjusting. I hear it takes four years to be properly past the postpartum period. My organs don't even know where they are going to live forever yet. What kind of home do I want them to live in? How much control do I have?

It's all quite terrifying, really.

I feel like I should be tracking the running…

Today I did 3.37 miles on the treadmill.  According to my rough scheduling I only need to do 3 miles today but Born This Way came on right at the 3 mile mark and that song is good to sprint to.  I alternated between going 3-3.5/mph and sprints of faster for a minute each.  I can't sprint for much longer than a minute yet.  Most of my sprints were at 6mph but during the last song I did sprints at 7mph and 8mph.  When I'm running at 8mph I have to flap my hands to deal with all the energy in my body.  I feel like I am flying.  I felt like my entire body wanted to keep running like that forever, only my heart would explode.  Only my weak heart is holding me back from being able to fly.

Normally I don't know how fast I am going because I think if you are going to run a marathon outside you need to train outside.  I wussed out today and went to the gym because it is cold and raining.  I figured that was better than not running at all.  

Because I was playing around with incline and I did a lot of walking I was on the treadmill for 50 minutes.  I really wasn't going all that fast, but it was fun to experiment with different strides and see what different speeds really feel like.  The machine told me I burned 385 calories.  I just came home and ate and drank that back again.

I weigh 154 lbs.  My waist is 32.5".  That's 6" smaller than it was a year ago.  My bust is 38" and my hips are 41".  I should start doing nekkid pictures once a month like when I was pregnant.  Bodies are hella weird.

Dramatic

Calli is just about to turn one. So I’ve had twelve months postpartum. I’m more than fifty pounds lighter than I was a year ago. I am not doing anything resembling a “diet”. I eat as much food as I want whenever I want. It’s kind of weird. When I weighed myself in the last week I was one pound over the lowest weight I hit on Weight Watchers years ago. (I lost a little bit more after stopping WW.) My body is very different from how it used to be, I feel. I should post some nekkid pictures. 😛 Because other people care, right?

This getting older thing is freakin weird.

fashion/body image crisis.

SHIT! Noah’s new company is having a party today. It’s a family thing. I’m feeling more than slightly fussed because this guy I had a really hot, intense multi-stage, intermittent fling with over several years works there.

HURRY UP AND STOP BEING ALL LOOSE SKIN LIKE YOU FREAKIN POSTPARTUM BELLY SO I CAN GO FLIRT WITH GUYS AND THEY WILL WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH ME.

Not that I’m all that into having sex. See my broken vanity. It is mighty. Erf.

Stomach trouble

I think the problem is that I am overtired and a stress monkey. But I’m really ready to be done with my stomach hurting. I kind of feel like I should go off sugar again because right now when I have something sugary it feels overwhelming and kind of awful in my mouth. I feel intensely overwhelmed by the experience. This is weird for me because I am putting my ‘normal’ amount of sugar on things (oatmeal, tea, pancakes[that one is actually maple syrup, but it is sweet]) and I feel kind of gag-ready. Hm. Interesting body feedback there. Maybe that part of my development cycle is ending and my body knows I really don’t need that kind of massive calorie surge any more.

Bodies are weird.

gym!

I don’t go to the gym that often. Kids are complicating factors. However I went this morning! And it was glorious! I felt lame because I used to bust out 5 sets of 30 crunches and barely breathe hard. I got through 2 sets of 20 and wanted to die. Ugh. This will be a long road. Alright abdominal muscles, your four year vacation is over.

In other news there was a beautiful older Sikh man across the room from me on the elliptical. He was wearing a Bright Neon Fuck-You-I’m-A-Sikh Turban. He had to have been in his mid 60’s (I couldn’t tell this till the end.) I watched him throughout my workout because his body was poetry in motion. He was so obviously powerful. Me being me, I felt skeezy and creepy because I stared for almost an hour. So I went over and introduced myself. I told him that I was sorry for staring, but he is in such amazing shape that it is inspiring. He smiled and asked me about when I like to come to the gym. I told him it was random because I have young children. He smiled again and told me he hopes he sees me again. 🙂

Fake it till you make it?

Today I feel compelled to wear a belt because I am tired of yanking my jeans up all day long. I consider this a neutral to positive thing. I’m getting smaller slowly. I am not calorie counting in the slightest and I don’t want to. I’m mostly eating what I want. I’m trying to substitute a small amount of fat for large amount of sugar when I know I am comfort eating and that seems to make me feel ‘satisfied’ better. But when I wear a belt with these jeans I have a bulge above and below the belt. Because regardless of my overall size, I had a baby 7 months ago. My belly is very saggy right now. And I feel like I should try to hide that with some big tent-like shirt because I know those instinctive style rules. I know how to ‘slim’ my line. But I want to wear the bright purple shirt with ruffles. And it’s pretty fitted at my current size/shape.

Fuck ’em. I’m wearing the shirt.

Yuck.

If Noah hadn’t gotten the all clear from his doctor I would be peeing on a stick right now. I’ve been seriously nauseated for days. I’m having weird lower abdominal discomfort. My dizzy is outrageous recently. COME ON BODY! KNOCK THIS SHIT OFF!!!

A journey of a thousand miles…

Tonight I did two. Miles that is (ok it was actually more like 2.28 but whatever). It was both less and more challenging than I expected. This is me formally, officially, publicly (ack the horror!) stating that before September 10, 2012 I will complete a marathon. Yes, I know lots of good reasons not to do it (oh my poor knees) and yet this is something that’s kinda on my bucket list. I really really want to do this for a lot of reasons that are hard to explain. It’s important to me. And you know what? That’s a good enough reason. 🙂

So tonight I went to the gym for the first time in…. I’m not willing to think about how long. But I did it. I don’t think I will be hitting ‘badass’ any time soon, but hopefully I will no longer feel too out of shape to do the things I want to do. 🙂

(This has virtually nothing to do with weight loss, though I expect some of that to happen. I just don’t have a good exercise icon…)

Bits and pieces

I do not have to argue with every thing that makes me angry. It’s ok to walk away.

Shanna is arguing with every single thing I say and I feel like I am going to lose my mind. I’m feeling very frustrated with her yelling at me. And her saying, “Stop saying that!” is just… AHHHHHH

I’m really sick of nightmares. I don’t know why I am having so many. Not sleeping is keeping me on edge all day long and it’s not good for me.

I’ve had a headache for days. It is also keeping me on edge. I’m tired of wanting to whack my head off with an axe just to stop the pain.

So I’m bitchier than average but I’m not generally feeling bad. It’s kind of weird. In between bursts of anger I’m feeling pretty cheerful. Don’t like my mood? Wait three minutes. *sigh*

I need to get on ordering a new oven. I’ve been wanting to bake for a while and my oven just doesn’t work. I’m waiting until we have steady paychecks again. Then! A new oven! So thrilling! I am such a grown up.

I am ‘stripping’ a lot of diapers in preparation for selling them. I’m doing so much laundry it’s insane. Soon I can be done with this stage. I look forward to it. And I’m really unhappy about Shanna’s 100% regression to diapers. This is problematic when she’s outgrowing her diapers.

And through this all… Calli continues to be astoundingly mellow. Thank you second child.

Not amused.

Apparently my body got the memo that we were turning off Noah’s fertility so mine better HURRY UP AND REAPPEAR CAUSE GOD DAMNIT WE HAVE TO TRY ONE LAST TIME!!!!! I was looking forward to the year off. fuss. See–this is the unintended irritation of a good sleeper.

On being fat

Since not long after marrying Noah I have met my own qualifications for being fat. It makes sense with how he feeds me. 🙂 I don’t have a problem with this. I don’t think I am gross or ugly or even particularly unhealthy. I don’t use the word in a self-hating way 95% of the time (though I admit I have very rare moods where I’ll add that word to every other hateful thing I say about myself). The main thing I mind about being fat is that I can’t wear most of my awesome dress up clothes. Not really a huge complaint in the scheme of things. I’m in fact slowly acquiring awesome clothes in larger sizes and not worrying about it.

I have a problem with the knee jerk reaction of “Oh, you’re not fat” when I make reference to being fat. Uhm. I can’t buy clothes in ‘regular’ stores. According to the BMI I’m obese (I think that’s bullshit though). According to the last sane/rational doctor I talked to I have been ~40 lbs above my optimal weight for years. Uhm, that’s fat, folks.

That said, it’s hard to tell if I currently have postpartum hyperthyroidism popping up or if I am just not able to consume the 4,000 calories I need to maintain stable weight with two nurslings. My midwife suggested postpartum hyperthyroidism because I’m dropping weight so quickly. I’m 8 lbs. below my pre-pregnancy weight as of this morning. I have 4 lbs. to go before I hit Shanna’s pre-pregnancy weight. I gained weight with both miscarriages. I’m not especially worried about the weight loss in either case. Postpartum hyperthyroidism cures itself after a while (and you usually gain the weight back pretty quickly) and more generic weight loss when I am eating like a horse is ok with me. So neither is worth much concern. I am so not going to be on anything resembling a diet anytime in the near future if ever again.

So I’m reaching the nebulous point where I start questioning my own usage of the word fat. Once I start shopping in ‘regular’ stores again, once I hit a point where my own view of my body is, “Ok I still have chunk -here- but mostly not so much” then I start feeling like I shouldn’t use the word. Mostly because I think it is no longer accurate, but at least partially because when I use it people seem to take it as a judgment of *them* and that’s a mixed bag. I really wish I could describe myself using terms I feel are accurate and have people just accept them as is. I don’t hear people arguing with me when I say, “I’m a brunette” and I wish that fat had about the same impact. For me it’s absolutely about word reclamation. Probably similar to how I use queer.

And I can feel my brains being sucked out of me by a nursling. I’m going to lose all coherence now.

Just life

I’m a bad invalid. I’m feeling better all the time, but I still have to be careful not to walk too much or I’m dizzy enough to fall down. So I’m feeling great and energetic while I’m sitting… but I’m writing checks my body can’t cash. SUCK! So the assumption that I will have to be in bed for at least two weeks was apparently founded. Damnit. Ok, I have actually left the house twice. And the whole next day if I tried to walk for more than about two minutes I slammed into walls as the vertigo hit me. So if I push it I need several days of recovery. I’ll eventually slow down enough to let myself fully recover.

Calli is a sleeper. I feel like I don’t know much of anything about her personality yet. I figure there’s time. 🙂

And then on to the gross body TMI (don’t read if my bowels are over the top for you):
Continue reading

Follow up on spa day

So I am going to www.spaelia.com in Los Gatos. They have some extra fussy bits for pregnant chicks and I’m taking advantage. It sounds like they are not too booked so if someone wants to join me for the pedicure part I bet you can call and get in at about the same time as me. (I am showing up at 10am next Sunday the 18th. I am not 100% certain what order my stuff is going to happen in but they would probably be happy to look it up and schedule people with me.)

I’m excited!

Complete and total self indulgence

This is really not normally my speed. Most of the time my attitude is, “What a complete and total waste of money.” But uhm this pregnancy I seem to be feeling differently. I think that at least part of my change in attitude right this moment is I now understand just how little time and energy I will have after the baby arrives. And I have very little physical ability to do some of this right now. Oy.

So! I am thinking about doing a spa day. It makes me cringe thinking about how expensive it will be. Yet, I’m going to do it. Uhm, if anyone doesn’t want to hear about it don’t open the cut. Continue reading