I said I wasn't going to write about my health issues any more.
It's my blog. I can change my mind.
The title of this post sums up how I've been feeling lately -- not just with my health but in nearly all areas of my life.
Emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes phsyically, I feel like the equivalent of a stalled car.
My test results have come back from my primary care and obgyn doctors. Nothing is showing up as abnormal. For most people, this would be great news; for me, it just means that whatever is wrong with me is deeper than a battery of blood tests.
And there is something wrong. I've followed dietetian's recommendations and eat 1500-1600 calories a day; I eat very little processed foods and try to eat a well-balanced diet of proteins, fats and carbs. I work out 5-6 days a week, walking, biking, dancing, doing martial arts and pole dancing. I've taken a medicine for my pre-diabetic blood sugar. After 1 month of a medicine that's supposed to help the normal person drop 10 pounds in a month, I'm still wrestling with the same 3 pounds that go up and then down on the scale.
Readers have commented or emailed me with diet ideas. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the advice -- the problem I (and my doctor) have found is that nothing is working.
At the moment, I'm venturing down two roads: trying to find an endocrinologist and meeting with a bariatric surgeon. Either way, something will change or else my health may be the death of me.
The stress of not being able to get healthy (I don't even look at it as losing weight any longer; it's more about making my body healthy) is taking its toll. I'm irritable and depressed and wish the motor that is my metabolism, hormones, or whatever is defunct, would move for the love of god.
On the career front, I feel as equally stalled as I do with my body.
To know me well is to know that I am an ass-kicker who goes big or goes home. I'm an over-achiever and I don't do well what feels like my own mediocrity. I aspire to big things and feel deflated and starved if I don't achieve them.
Intelligently, I know I've got many great accomplishments under my belt in my 36 years. I can't help but want more and I feel like I've failed myself because I haven't achieved these things yet.
My family. Lord save them all from me and my no-longer-on-an-anti-depressant irritability. I keep on a cheerful demeanor for most of my loved ones; but my poor husband and my mother have been on the receiving end of most of my vents. I'd probably be sleeping under a bridge in the southside of Chicago if it wasn't for them. I've started to question how much more frustration-infused contemplation I can throw their way. I suppose that's why I've retuned to write this blog post.
My dear readers, I need help.
How do I find contentment? How do I quiet the voices in my head that tell me I have failed myself for not being better than I am right now?