Wednesday, December 19, 2007

A Holiday Miracle!

In an amazing turn of events that boggles the mind in the same way that Mary Mother of God could give BIRTH AND BE A VIRGIN AT THE SAME TIME, I have news just as astonishing and unbelievable.

My jeans fit. I can zip them. It's a holiday miracle.

These are the jeans that I blogged about in "Of Purpose, Picket Signs and Fat Girl Jeans," the ones that I could not quite close entirely and therefore had to rely on a knotted bandanna through the belt loops that made me most closely resemble an unwed PREGNANT GIRL whose belly button had popped. (If I put the knot to the side, I just looked like a expectant mother with some sort of side stomach tumor.)

BUT TODAY, they fit. I can sit in them, I can eat in them. They do not cut off the circulation between my upper and lower body, WHICH I THINK IS A GOOD THING.

Part of this is hard work, the other part is the fact that a horrifc cold has hijacked my taste buds and left me comatose for most hours in the day when I might be eating. But mostly hard work. With a pinch of fear of facing the Weight Watchers Lady with the petulant puss who I know is expecting ME TO FAIL, BUT I WILL NOT FAIL. I will be VICTORIOUS.

This week, she will give me more than just a surprised look on her face when I step on that scale. SHE WILL GIVE ME BRAVO STAR STICKERS. They will probably ask me to lead the meeting, be their national spokesperson and be on the cover of their magazine (bizarrely called "Diane") which I will rename "Former Fattie" and be featured in a ten page spread. Or maybe I'll just get my Bravo stickers.

I must sign off. My dog Cooper is violently humping a toy horse I gave him and if this goes on much longer, I might not be able to sleep in my bed tonight.

To All The Awesome Readers of This Blog

There seems to be a lil' confusion about my last post, I wanted to clear some things up. When I post with the title: "How It All Began" I am going back two years ago to when my cousin died and that's when I feel all my depression began. (At some point, I'll put that on the front page, I can see how it would be confusing.)

As for the Prozac stuff, thank you for all your concern. The best book I ever read about anti-depressants was called "Prozac Backlash." It's from a Harvard doctor who in essence says anti-depressants are good, but only for short amounts of time and ONLY COMBINED with therapy, which I firmly believe. (Why just dull the pain but never get in out of your system?)

Which brings me to my next point, yeah, I broke up with my therapist but I still want to be in therapy. I'M A COMPLICATED GIRL, Y'ALL. I've been through some stuff. Why I broke up with her is I felt the lack of being challenged anymore and she would never PUSH ME to talk about my cousin's death even though week after week, I CAME IN THERE LOOKING LIKE A BIG SAD, FATTIE who obviously was deeply sad and troubled.

So I decided to challenge myself. What if I wrote about that time? What if I exorcised those demons on my own? What if I stopped keeping everything on the inside? What if I stopped pretending it didn't happen? What if I pushed myself to do new things out of my comfort zone? What if I SAID YES TO EVERYTHING instead of NO? What if I got out of BED?

It seems to be working, though when my insurance benefits kick back in, on January 1, I hope I will find someone new to help me with the journey.

Other things you might want to know, sometimes I feel bad if I blog about sad stuff so I will then blog about something ridiculous. Sometimes I am blogging without pants. Sometimes I blog from the library and there is a man on the next computer wearing no pants.