Random.

I've had so much on my mind the last week, yet I don't really have a "theme" for this blog. I guess I'll see where my stream-of consciousness takes me.

I saw my therapist Dr. J last Thursday, as I have every Thursday for the last two months at least. She is a student therapist, and part of her schooling is to intern at the clinic I go to for nine months. As of the end of June, her time is up and she gets to transfer to UCLA. I'm happy for her (and unbelievably jealous that she is in medical school to begin with) but also really upset. The sessions it took for me to really open up to her and the time I have had with her feel wasted now. Our last session will be with her but also my new therapist that's taking me on, who happens to also be female. That's a little comforting. I feel that if I break down in front of a woman it's okay; but in front of a man I would be perceived as weak. Even though a man psychologist would still be obligated to use his "psych" brain, I think in all of us we have subconscious cues about how we observe, judge, think, etc. My anxiety is overwhelming at the thought of meeting someone new who I have to pour my heart out to-again. What if she isn't welcoming? What if she doesn't do as good a job? Anyone who has ever been to more than one therapist in their life knows that they have to be a good fit for you. Dr. J put me at ease right away; she was honest, sincere, and laid-back-I think her essence always calmed me down. Wish me luck. I don't want to lose all the progress I've already gotten.

The past two weeks have just been a complete spiral. Three Mondays ago I woke up miserable with a sinus cold or something, and I didn't have the discipline that day to plan my meals, so I ended up blowing my diet. My diets require strictness, because just like everything else in my life, if I cheat or falter just once I'm doomed. It's like a snowball effect. The day after that I binged at McDonalds. I mean straight up binging. After that all bets were off. I felt the change, too. I had the energy to first start the diet because I had started new meds that gave me a pep in my step, and after the toxic effect of fast food and junk food left my body I felt amazing. Two or three days after the binge, I am miserable. Thoughts of suicide have crossed my path (FYI-Not only did I make a promise to Dr. J I would not harm myself, I made a vow to my husband, and the love I feel for him is so strong I would never, ever want to cause him harm-so don't worry about me vs. suicide: I'll win.), I've slept longer, stopped doing regular chores like the dishes, the laundry, and feel unbelievably depressed at the most random times. Just yesterday I was in the shower and I just stood there and stared at the wall for about five minutes. I can't shut off my brain when I'm depressed or anxious, which is 99% of the time, so I always have something on my mind to ruin my 1% state of well-being. Friends tell me all about the wonderful effects of exercise, fruits and vegetables, schedules; they share with me their success stories and how it worked out for them. Are any of them bipolar? No, pretty sure they are all functional adults. I listen to their advice, and try my damnedest to follow, but when you can't leave your house or your bed, exercise is the last thing on your mind. Tomorrow I am going grocery shopping (my fridge is literally a condiment-and-diet soda only zone at the moment, and milk-less cereal) and I have no plans to buy crap food, so that's a start. Something I do before I shop is stop at the Starbucks and grab my venti macchiato before I cruise the aisles so I'm not hungry at all. My husband goes with me most of the time, and we get one "cheat" food, and mine is almost always ice cream. Because I am on disability at the moment, our food budget is limited, and it makes me SO MAD that good food is TWICE as expensive as crap food. I could probably write a whole other blog about why that is causing obesity in America. I want to buy a big balance ball so I can do something while I'm confined to this tiny apartment. Wish me luck on that too, please.

I think the worst thing ever about the past few weeks is that I am becoming more and more disassociated with me and my former self. I look in the mirror and see a stranger. When my husband touches me or kisses me, I start to cry. I don't want him to touch my skin, or look at my face because it almost feels like he is kissing someone else. If you read this you probably think I am going crazy. Well, that's how I feel too. I am Hed. But I am not. Even my brain functions are changing. Little glimmers of my former self pop up, but as soon as I realize that's not me anymore I stop feeling happy. When I kiss my husband more than once, I have to stop because it makes me sick, literally sick to my stomach that he is kissing this. I've tried to explain to him that I am not the person he married, that he should call it and leave me, but him being him, he is by my side. Fat Bastard from the "Austin Powers" movies, in a moment of clarity, says "I eat because I'm unhappy, and I'm unhappy because I eat. It's a vicious cycle". That describes me at the moment. I should name my present self "FB".

So this is the past two weeks in a nutshell. I don't see much change on the horizon. As much as I wish I could will it all away, I can't. I never have been able to. But don't worry about me, I'm stuck here and something will happen sooner or later that will make the present me become the past me and I will look back and have insight and wisdom. I at least know that. So, until that happens, wish me luck.