Stream of Consciousness

I spend every day obsessing over what I'm eating or drinking and when.  I have to find a balance between a headache and a stomachache.  Eat something in the morning, but not enough that I get sick at school or on the way there.  Then eat a little between classes and drink some water, but not enough to upset my stomach.  I'm dehydrated.  My head hurts.  I'm whining again.  Too much.

When I come home late at night, I binge.  I'm so hungry.  I know I will be in the bathroom several times, as long as I'm awake.  I can't eat vegetables or the pain will be horrible, so I eat starchy, salty things.  Crap void of nutrition which will only make me feel worse in the long run.  But at least the hunger is gone now.

A handful of vitamins and a bunch of water, which I choke down because I know there is nausea to follow.  I work late into the night because I know I will have to pay in the morning.

I sleep.  I wake up.  I go to the bathroom.  I go again.  Time to start obsessing.  I have to if I want to keep this up.  I think I'm doing a good job hiding it.  I'm always either hungry or in pain or tired because constantly fighting hunger or pain is just so damn exhausting.  It takes me longer to learn things because  my focus on my work is always secondary to what my body won't let me ignore.  I can't stop obsessing because, if I do, I will likely shit myself in public, which would be the worst outcome.  I've worked so hard to avoid it.  So far, my only victory.  Well, that and I haven't missed a single class or extra activity the school has scheduled for us.  That's something, right?  

I don't talk about it much, at least I don't think I do.  The person who matters most to me thinks I'm whiny and dramatic, possibly a hypochondriac.  I don't want anyone at school to know, I need to work in a couple of months and I don't want to be the sick person no one wants to hire.  I was quiet for a while, then I decided to feed off my illness because it feels like all I have right now, make it part of my work.  I immediately regretted making it a part of the conversation.

My mind is weak with anxiety.  I'm constantly anxious, cripplingly anxious.  I second guess every decision I make.  I'm not the same person at all as my well self.  I'm a total mess.  I have no confidence, I hate the way I look.  I scrutinize everything I say and do.  I'm so nervous about leaving the apartment that I do crazy, crazy things before I leave.  I make sure I've turned off the stove, even if I haven't used it since the night before.  Is the fridge closed?  The window locked?

I try so hard not to talk about it to my husband because I know it's boring and it gets old.  When I have to explain that I don't want a salad for dinner because it will make me too sick, I scream it at him.  Angry because he made me whine about it, prove I am a whiny person.  Then I hate myself for being weak, sick, angry, for taking it out on him.  I want to have a salad for dinner because my body craves the raw vegetables.  That's all I eat when I'm healthy.  That's all I want right now.  But, in the end, it would be a bad decision.

When I do speak about my illness, there is no shortage of advice.  "Eat rice, it will bind you up.  Take Vitamin D.  Get some rest.  You just need some exercise."  I can't explain to someone that my immune system is tearing up my digestive system.  That I don't have a bout of diarrhea, I have inflammation and ulcers in my intestines that will not allow my body to properly digest food.  Toast and bananas are not going to be easier on my stomach.  If I take a day off, I will not be able to catch up on my school work.  You can't believe I have that much school work?  Well I don't know what to tell you.  There's no way food can enter and exit my body in less than two hours?  If you say so.  They can't understand.  I wouldn't either if I didn't live this every day.    

I'm angry with myself because I haven't done enough work, my apartment is filthy, I fell because I haven't replaced the boots that have no tread left, I'm taking the wrong supplements because I haven't shopped for the right ones yet, I'm out of shape, I'm not making any money, I haven't spoken to my family enough this week, there is no food in the fridge, I'm not drinking enough water or eating the right things.  I don't even know where to start this to-do list with another, overwhelming to-do list of assignments/preparing to start a business is already on the page.  A few hours of shopping could wipe me out for the day and I won't have the energy left to finish what I need to do.  I don't look sick, I can't possibly be that weak... 

I've kept all of this up, every day, for months.   

I could just get back on Humira, but I'm getting older.  My window for having children is closing and I would rather not risk the medication.  In a few more months, I will be finished with school and, that's it, I will have no more excuses.  But how can I do this AND raise children?  I'm afraid that I can't.  I'm afraid that I will let myself, my husband and, worst of all, my children down.   

I'm so afraid of everything right now.   

Day 45

It's Valentine's Day and I'm going to take a moment to Oprah it out.

I find this to be a silly holiday. I have a valentine, my husband. He is amazing and treats me well every day. We enjoy each others' company every day and enjoy splurging on expensive dinners if we have something to celebrate. Deep down in my heart, I see no reason to do it up for Valentine's Day. I hate that people actually feel pressure to spend money or do something crazy so their girl can go tell everyone at work the next day how wonderful her man is. I hate that everyone asked me all day what I am doing for Valentine's Day, what did I get for Valentine's Day. It kind of reminds me of my wedding.

We got married a few months ago. I haven't gotten the photos back from the photographer yet and I'm kind of relieved. I'm sure I could have pushed the issue a little harder but, truthfully, I'm nervous about getting them back.

On the day of the wedding, I was totally on that bridal high. You could have shown me cold, hard proof that the Earth was going to explode the next day and I wouldn't have cared. Everything we worked so hard to DIY together looked just the way we wanted it. Logistically, nothing went wrong, my husband looked amazing, everyone we cared about was there, but some people (on both sides) let me down and, as hard as I try, I can't let it go. I'm not talking about Bridezilla craziness, I'm just talking about letting me down when it meant the most.

We mostly did what we wanted to do but, in the end, we dumped a boatload of money on certain things that I would have been happy to budget up on. We invited a bunch of people we don't know well, some of them hurtful people, and I'm not sure why we did that. Looking back, I think I would have pushed harder for barbecue and a smaller guest list. I wish I wouldn't have cared about pleasing people who don't care about us. Sometimes, looking back, I feel embarrassed and icky.

I'm afraid to get the pictures back. I'm afraid I won't like the way I look. I'm afraid that I will be upset all over again. I'm afraid that the pictures will be up all over Facebook so that, not only the people we did invite, but hundreds of other people we didn't invite will have a ticket to the show. I'm afraid I won't have control over what happens to my own wedding photos.

I created my own insurance policy before we got married to make sure that no one else had any say in how my marriage began and it was probably the smartest thing I've ever done. This is not about my marriage. It's about the show we put on for everyone else. It was something that happened because we were expected to make it happen, just like the roses that show up on everyone's desks on February 14th.

My relationship with my Valentine is serious, and private. I don't need to be told how or when to celebrate our relationship, it's not meant to be entertainment.



*No harm meant to V-Day lovers. Go for it! Maybe you can send me your email addresses so I can divert the questions to you tomorrow?

Decisions, Decisions

I don't know what happened. I feel like I am stuck in some sort of time warp or something. Are there really only four days left in September?

Since I've been feeling better I feel like I've been going at life full speed. I've been out of town most weekends this year which has been great but exhausting. I'm doing much more socially and otherwise, and it feels really good. Then there's this whole wedding planning thing...

Since we've been engaged we've been making plans (then changing those plans (over and over)). Everyone wants to know how it's going, what we're planning, how far we've gotten, what's the date, where's the wedding, am I going to go to Kleinfeld's, are we going to make sure the wedding is near hotels, the airport, have I thought about making my own dress, and on and on and on and on.

In the beginning, we both kinda got wrapped up in all the silly wedding stuff. As time goes by, I do more and more research and hear more and more ridiculousness from potential wedding guests. I am, at this point, over it. I have decided that six month's rent for an open bar is absolutely absurd even if the venue is near the airport. We are not going to spend a zillion dollars for some stuffy affair that is so not us because it would be more convenient for some people who have never traveled to visit us before and will likely never travel to visit us again. If our venue is too far from the airport or too late in the year, they can stay home.

I will be making some concessions. I will probably wear a white dress, although I will not spend four figures on said dress. I will invite a bunch of people who have nothing to do with my life on a daily (montly, yearly) basis but I will not spend $150 on each of their dinners. I'm not going to spend my life savings to impress a bunch of people who live in other parts of this country and world with whom we have no regular contact. It's all incredibly illogical to me.

I take my relationship, my fiance and my life plans very seriously but, as it turns out, our life is dictated by the decisions we make, not by the convenience of our plans for our extended families. We do not live near either of our families and, although we speak to our parents on a daily basis, they have very little to do with the decisions we make and the way we live our lives. We love each other and respect each other and make a pretty good team. None of this will change because we are married.

So - we are going to have a party. One where a friend marries us and we will eat popcorn and gravy fries and keep some of our money in our savings account. I don't think most of our family will get it, some of them will make jokes and have lots of criticism to share between them but I have decided that's not important. We are going to have a wedding to make our parents happy but we're going to do it in a way that makes us happy.

Phew!

Crohnie