So, yeah, I've been gone for a while. I was hospitalized for mental health issues (rather than the health issues that caused the suicidal thoughts) and I've been struggling to feel like me (and human) again. I felt like I lost my sense of humor for a while, and as many of you can probably relate, that's my last stand against all the crazy and the bullshit that everyone has to deal with in different ways in their life. I finally was able to see my doc, and we've changed some things, added two different insomnia meds, and switched out my anti-depressant for a mood stabilizer. (Bi-polar? Who knew?) On top of that, my relationship is kinda rocky. He is not a bad guy, but I think that some of the things he deals with from childhood abuse triggers my own issues with abuse and everything that comes with that, and from my own broken brain. He finds offering compassion hard because of the tough-love way he was raised, and I have to accept that I'm soft and squishy inside too, and need lots of hugs and support in my relationship. We had a fight last night in which he said that I am financially irresponsible, and there's a ring of truth there-I have the tendency to want to stick my head in the sand when things get tough, and I have to take a hard look at a lot of things, including my relationship. There are so many questions-do I have the right to say that certain people trigger me too much to be in my life? (This goes for several of L's friends who have very triggery attitudes towards women.) Where do I draw the line in the sand? Where am I just blowing things out of proportion, and what can be compromised on? Oh, and there is something else in my life needing attention asap-my boobs.
I have been a fat activist ever since I discovered that such a thing existed, and I have my moments of peace and clarity with it, and my moments of struggling with it, as everyone does. But I live with 38Fs that once a month expand to 38Gs, and they have really started to take a toll on the pain due to scoliosis between my shoulder blades, and even interfere with my sleep. I'm a side-sleeper, so I have to sleep with my arms straight out and over the tatas, old-school zombie style. Sometimes the effort it takes to roll/hurl these babies from one side to the other wakes me up! Straight up, carrying around 20 pounds of boob (yep, I weighed 'em) is interfering with my life, and I have been able to find two solutions. One of them, breast reduction surgery, scares the hell out of me. I don't know how well I'd do with the healing process, which I've heard can take months. This leaves weight loss, so far as I can figure out. Taking off 20 or 40 pounds should (one hopes) reduce the boobs down to a more livable-with (for me) size. But how does this fit in with my fat activism? How will I deal with the comments on my body, when people around me notice? Will it trigger my disordered eating? How will I adjust the perception of myself?
Sorry, this seems to be a post of mostly questions. But I know that of anybody, the people reading this will be most likely to be able to relate, and that gives me strength. Sometimes watching others go through the same thing helps you to not feel like it's an endless tunnel with no good answers, which in turn helps you practice yer backbone. And goddess knows I need to start looking for mine, and practicing making healthy decisions for myself.
Hope that you are also practicing yer backbone, and that all is well with you (or as damn close as it can be in the present situation.)
