Day 4 - Backpacking

Today should be the final day of our backpacking trip.  Hopefully I have enough energy left to hike the seven miles out and then complete all the other things on our agenda for the evening.  By the time this posts, we should be all packed up and saying or final good-byes to the beautiful surrounding before heading down the trail.  I'm sure we'll all be looking forward to seeing family and eating real food.

One Year Later...

I'm not sure where we are at in our backpacking adventures, but this should be our last evening in the mountains.  By the time this posts, we should be just settling down from our adventures from the day and getting ready to make our way to our tents before the long hike out tomorrow.

Oddly, this is going to be an emotional night for me in the mountains because it's signifying the end of a trip and at the same time, this is the day that I consider to be my anniversary date for the time I finally decided (once and for all) to make a real change in my life.  While all of July was a major contributor to my success at this point, this day a year ago was the day in which I decided I'd lied to myself for long enough.  I know I'll be sitting in the mountains, looking up at the stars and thinking about all that I have been through this past year.  I wish that I had a computer to type all my feelings and emotions up on the spot, while I'm in the moment, but at the same time, I'm glad I won't have one.  I need time to reflect and savor all the successes and failures that the past year, and twenty years, have brought.... Besides, if I had a computer, I'd probably write a blog post that was so long no one would want to read it.  This way, I have time to be at peace with myself and part of my family.

I'd like to fill this blog post with pictures of before and after photos, but I don't have that many before pictures.  Mostly because I wouldn't let anyone take them or they didn't take them or I deleted them.  I have added what I could find to the end of this blog.  I hope that the next year is as successful as this year.  I still have a long way to go and I worry that I may not find the success I had this year.  I know it will become harder and harder as I reach my goal weight, but I hope for a little success and at least movement in the right direction.  All I can do is try and take things one day at a time.

Day 2 - Backpacking

Day two of our backpacking trip should be underway.  I'd hope that by the time this one posts, we'd be all packed up and on our way to location number two. That's assuming we didn't camp somewhere along the way to location number one.

Day 1 - Backpacking

By the time this posts, we should be an hour and a half into our backpacking trip.  Hopefully, we are nearly half way to our first camping spot or three miles in.  If I remember correctly, the first three miles are the hardest.  I can't remember though so I'll have to give you an update on that once we return to the internet zone.

Cowgirl Jeans

Yesterday I was able to go shopping with two of my sisters.  We spent quite a bit of time shopping at the second hand store where they live.  The prices there are amazing (like $1 an item) and so it makes it worth the risk to buy clothes that might not quite fit.  So, I grabbed several items -- some I thought I would fit and some I wasn't so sure of.  When we got back to my parents house and I tried all of them on, all fit but one shirt which hopefully will fit soon.  It was wonderful to find so many clothes that fit me with very little effort shopping.

Besides shopping at the second hand store (or the next hand store as my nephew calls it), my youngest sister and I stopped at the western store.  We looked at the jeans and I told her I needed to find something much bigger, but she convinced me to try on a pair of 34's.  Knowing that I'm still much bigger than my husband around the waist, I was hesitant -- he wears 34/36's.  Still, she was able to talk me into taking a pair into the dressing room.  It helped that I was in a great mood because of all the clothes I had just found at the second hand store.  

After trying one pair of jeans that I knew would fit (and they did), I tried on the pair of 34's.  Surprisingly, they pulled right over my hips (test #1) and even more surprisingly, they zipped (test #2).  Also, they felt comfortable and my fat didn't squish out over the top (test #3).  It was so exciting to find out that I could buy a pair of jeans straight off the shelf.  It's also a little scary because now I want to buy more and more clothes.... I don't think I have the budget for this!

Being able to buy western jeans off the shelf yesterday made my day!  I haven't owned a pair since before I had my first child.  At least I don't remember owning them since then.  It makes me feel a little more complete and like I'm getting back to myself.  I want so badly to be the person that I remember as me; the person I feel like on the inside.  I want people to see me the way I see myself inside and being able to fit into a pair of western jeans gets me one step closer to that dream.  

I can't wait to see what comes next.  I know I have a long way to go, but I'm beginning to see the progress I've made and it makes me feel so happy.  Less than a week from now, I'll be pulling on my new jeans, putting on my boots, and heading to the rodeo.  I'm excited to see how losing the weight helps with sitting for a couple hours in the grandstands.  I'm pretty sure that will be one of those "too excited to sleep" nights and I can't wait.  

Backpackers Ready

Last weekend, we spent an entire day preparing our packs for our tri-annual backpacking trip.  Our packs have been filled and weighed and our route has been chosen.  Our destination is clear and our hearts are ready.  We leave in a couple days and I couldn't be more excited to see this country again and show it's glory to my two boys.  I hope to someday be able to do the same with my girls. 

My worry now is that I won't be strong enough to make the trip.  I have a lot of excuses as to why I might not be strong enough, but for now, I'm ignoring those and pushing forward.  Still, the thought of letting everyone down weighs on me a bit, but not as heavy as last time.  Instead, my focus turns to my children.  I worry that we won't bring enough food for the boys and that they'll be hungry and malnourished.  I worry that they won't find it as amazing as I do, but in my heart I think they'll enjoy the beauty because we have always taught them to do so.  I hope that they find it peaceful and challenging, but not overwhelming.  I'm sure they'll be fine, but I want them to have the best experience possible.

For weeks now, I've watched my hubby try to hide his feelings about this trip as not to sway my decision to go one way or the other.  However, this past weekend, I could see his excitement as he sorted through all of our gear, prepared our fishing bag, and helped the boys understand their packs.  Nothing makes me happier than seeing him excited about an adventure.  He goes into a different mode when he's preparing for something and it's really cute.  His excitement is a good enough reason for me to make this trip whether my mind thinks I'm ready or not.  

This time, we will be going for a shorter amount of time so we were able to pack less food.  Currently, my pack weighs about 20 pounds which is great, but we may have to make some adjustments before we actually leave.  As of now though, things are looking great.  I'm about 80 pounds lighter than the last time I hiked and my pack is about 10 pounds lighter.  I'm hoping all of this makes a huge difference in my speed and stamina.  Instead of taking most of the day to get to camp, I hope to do it in about three hours.  However, it stresses me out a little to put a time frame on it.  The goal is to get there, the time is a bonus. 

As the day approaches, I have begun to feel more anxious.  I know I could have done so much more to prepare physically for this trip and yet part of me wants the scenarios to be similar so that the main difference is how much weight I've lost.  It's more than just a trip into the peaceful mountains this time.  I want to know that passing up all those donuts, skipping the dessert menu, ordering salads, losing all this weight, and working so hard is worth it.  I already know how it's changed my day to day life, but I want to see if it's changed my quality of life.  And, putting all this pressure on me to perform drastically better than the last time is probably unhealthy, but I want to know what I can do today and I'll never know until I do it.  We'll see how my mindset changes once I'm actually in the moment, but for now, I hope to see big things.  Either way, this will be another emotional trek.

What's That You Brought With You?

I left for my parents yesterday morning.  This time, I brought my scale with me.  I probably should have left it at home, but I need that reminder to stay on track and I guess if that means dragging my scale along for the nearly two week trip then, so be it!  

I know I won't be able to use it on our backpacking trip, but the other days I can.  I know I've written about my scale before, but for me, it isn't so much the amount I weigh everyday, just that I am doing it.  It's probably one of those things that someone could label, but I prefer to think of it as a security blanket.  It gives me peace of mind knowing I didn't gain 30 pounds overnight or that if I eat something I shouldn't it won't kill me (at least not immediately) and that I need to forgive myself and move on.  Weighing helps me with that. 

Still, I must find some guilt in weighing daily and even bringing my scale along or I don't think I'd write a whole blog post about it.  I guess now, I need to ask myself why I feel guilty and should I?  Sometimes, maybe, I look into my feelings and actions a little too closely.  On the other hand, maybe not looking close enough is what allowed me to become secretly obese in the first place.  

And, sadly, I wonder if I will ever stop second guessing myself?  Will I ever just be okay with things the way they are or is this something I need to go through to heal?  

Popiversary

http://thisishowyousonic.com

Today marks the anniversary of the day that I gave up pop - my popiversary.  It's weird to think back to a time when I "needed" pop to make it through the day.  Oddly, I still have those moments (like last night) where I really want a soda, but they are pretty few and far between.  I don't know what causes it, but you'd think that after a year without something, you'd just kind of forget about it.  I guess that shows you how addicted I was to it.  

This addiction started in high school, I think.  I used to drink a Coke at school or share one with my boyfriend (now hubby).  It was the one bad thing I did for a very long time.  And, since I wasn't drinking or smoking, I used that as an excuse to continue to drink soda (a lot of soda).  I switched to diet probably 14 or 15 years ago, but that didn't stop the weight gain.  In fact, it probably made it worse.  If there aren't any calories in it then you can have as much as you'd like....

I know I've written before about giving up soda after reading an article with Russell Wilson and that was a big factor, but it wasn't the only factor.  I'm not even sure what the other factors were on this day a year ago, but I do know how it started.  I was headed east to visit family for the week when the kids and I stopped at the gas station, as always, to grab snacks and drinks and instead of grabbing a pop, I picked up an iced tea/lemonade drink.  It wasn't bad and I didn't miss the soda.  Once we arrived at our destination, I realized I hadn't had any soda that day.  Instead of reaching for one, I went shopping for Vitamin Waters so that I could make it through the week without being tempted to drink a pop.  I figured if I could make it though a week on vacation without drinking soda then I could make it anytime.  I don't know what it was about that day, but I guess the timing was perfect because I haven't looked back!  

I remember when I had made it a month without drinking soda and I was so proud of myself... actually, I can remember when I made a week, then two.  After that first month though, it seemed to get easier.  The worst thing for me was seeing it in a glass.  The ads just before the movies made it incredibly challenging for me.  I recall sitting in the movie theater and closing my eyes so I wouldn't see the Coke ads.  The bubbles rolling up to the top made me crave it, but shortly after it was gone, I'd forget about it.  I had the same problem at home when my husband would pour a drink, but if he used a cup that wasn't see through, then it wasn't a problem -- luckily, he had no problem making that adjustment to support me and later giving up pop himself.  It was hard to go through a drive through and order a water when everyone else was getting a soda.  Usually once we drove off I'd be fine, but sometimes it would make me sad for quite awhile.  It feels like you're being left out and that makes it really hard to stick to the plan.  I made it through the tough times by telling myself, "I don't drink pop!"  Sometimes I needed to repeat it more than others, but just knowing that I was choosing not to drink it and that I was in control helped.  

In addition to celebrating the first week, second week, and month of being soda free, I also celebrated making it three months and six months.  After that I sort of forgot that I had ever even drank pop.  So, it is a little weird for me to be writing this to celebrate a year without it.  However, I think it's important.  I had contemplated this day for the first several months of quitting this habit.  I once thought, I'd celebrate once a year with a glass bottle of Coke and now that the day has arrived, I don't even want it.  While it might seem trivial to celebrate giving up soda, this is really what started my whole journey and I can't imagine making the decision to be healthy without ditching the soda. 




Tip #5 - Choose a bad habit to give up (just one) and challenge yourself to see how long you can go without it.  You might surprise yourself!

Dressing Room Saga Two Doors Down

I continued my search for the perfect (or at least one that would fit) bikini top yesterday.  This time, we headed to the mall for more variety and I was certain I would find it somewhere.  The biggest challenge has been finding the swimming suits.  It's mid July and apparently all the inventory is gone.  It seems crazy that they wouldn't stock their racks better.  People wear swimming suits all year around, but I guess they don't like to purchase them in July.  

Of course, once I did find the swim suit section, there was very little to choose from and even less for busty people.... In most stores, I haven't found a single bikini top that would fit anyone who wears a size D or larger.  After the first store, I decided to move on to stores that I knew sold plus sizes.  

I found myself in a Torrid dressing room with two bikini tops and a tankini.  Neither of the bikini tops were all that attractive, but I was hoping they'd at least fit.  Sadly, neither of them would hold the girls up -- looking for a little support here.  I moved on to the tankini, it wasn't what I was looking for, but it was cute.  As I posed (smile and all) for a selfie in the flamingo adorned top, I heard the woman who worked there usher two more people into the dressing room just down from me.  Then I heard her ask someone if she was okay.  I heard another voice respond, "She's just sad.  She went to Victoria Secret because they were supposed to be having a big sale on swimming suits and nothing fit her."  The next part was mumbled, but I heard her finish with, "She leaves for Idaho in two days."  Before the salesperson left the dressing room area, she told assured the woman that it would be okay and they would take care of her.  After she was gone, while sobbing, I heard the woman say, "I don't think it will fit past my hips."  She continued to cry as the person in the room with her offered her support and encouragement.  I wanted to stay and see how it ended, but I was done and needed to go.  As I walked out of the dressing area, I saw a mother and younger child searching the sparse selection of swim suits in hopes of finding one that would work for her daughter, the one in the dressing room who had been crying.  I never saw the person in the dressing room so I don't know how old she was.  It hurt me even more to think that this might be a teenager struggling with her weight, her self-identity, and her self-worth.

The scene was all too familiar for me.  I too have found myself crying in the Torrid dressing room.  The people who work there are amazing and I'm sure they helped the girl/woman feel better and I'm hoping they found her something to wear on her trip.  Still, trying on clothes is a scary thing for anyone who's a little overweight (or a lot overweight).  I felt so much pain for the person in the dressing room next to me.  Why can't heavy people just go buy something off of the shelf?  If America is really that fat, why don't they have more clothes for fat people?  It's especially hard when you need a specialty item like a swimming suit, but right now, I can't even find a pair of shorts.  The other issue is that clothes for skinny people are generally cuter.  I picked up two "identical" bikini tops yesterday, one was a size XL and the other was a size 16/18.  The XL (which by the way is probably a C cup) was super cute, but the 16/18 had been modified and wasn't cute at all.  I left Torrid empty handed and heart broken for the person I left crying in the dressing room.  I'm starting to think this search might be harder than I thought and maybe I just need to wear my bra!  At least it supports me and looks cute.  

300 Views

When I started this blog, I was doing it for me, but I was also doing it so that other people could see what I went through and maybe even relate.  Today, my blog hit the 300 viewer mark.  It's pretty impressive to me that people would want to read the thoughts that come out of my head.  I know that I'm not an exemplar writer and most of my blogs have mistakes, maybe even all of them (I don't know), but what I write comes from my heart.  Whether you agree with it or not, it's what my life is like for me.  Just as the voice in my head sounds different than the voice I hear on video tape, the stories I tell are the way I see the world and events that take place in them.  These are not necessarily the way that others see them and I respect that.  I know that is especially hard for people who are close to me, but they keep coming back and reading and supporting me and that is really all I could ever ask for.

I hope that in addition to people in my family, there are others who are reading this blog and who continue to come back to see what has happened in my life and throughout my journey.  It's pretty cool to see that people from across the world are reading what I write.  Sometimes my blogs are messy and seem to be all over the place; I'd like to blame that on my ADHD.  Still, whether you've read one blog or all of them, I appreciate the support.  If no one was reading them, I might not still be writing them.  Even though, this started as a way for me to face my fears and make peace with myself, knowing that others are checking in makes me feel supported.

Writing daily this month has been especially challenging.  I guess I forgot how busy of a month July is.  And, as the end of July approaches, I have some big plans that are going to make my goal of writing daily even more challenging, but seeing that people are actually looking at it holds me accountable.  So, I just wanted to take today and say thank you for reading my blog and hopefully you find it a little enjoyable.  

I've LOST a Whole Child!

At this point in my weight loss journey, I'm usually not too afraid to step on the scale.  While it still seems unreal, I have lost 90 pounds in the past year.  I've also lost two inches off of my neck (crazy huh!), 6 inches off my hips, and 13 inches off my waist.  I wish I had taken measurements of my other body parts.  I know at one time I had that all written down in one of the weight loss journals I had started, but I guess I gave up on that and finally threw it away because I can't find it anywhere.  I'd love to know how much I've lost off of my thighs and arms.  I know I've lost something off of my calves because regular boots fit, but I have no idea how much.  

To help put my 90 pound loss into a little more perspective, my husband likes to compare my pounds lost to my eleven-year-old son.  He weighs about 87 pounds.  Chew on that for a bit!  Yeah, I've lost an entire child -- an eleven-year-old child...a sixth grader!  For that, I am grateful.  I am proud!  And, most of the time I am happy.  I've packed him around on my back a few times and really, it doesn't feel like much weight.  Still, I know that 90 pounds off of my back and knees is a great improvement.  Not to mention my resting heart rate is now around 56 beats per minute.... Athletes are between 40 and 60 beats per minute.  Also, my blood pressure is really good.  So, not only do my clothes fit better, but I'm doing something that (hopefully) is making my quality and length of life better.  Still, I've got a ways to go and I'm not losing sight of my end goal just yet.

For the most part, I find myself enjoying every day.  I find ways to get out of the house as much as possible, which is hard for me because of my anxiety, but if I just go do it, then I'm usually okay.  In addition, I like to look at clothes.... I wouldn't go as far as to say I like shopping, but I do like to look and daydream about what I might look like in certain outfits.  I brave the dressing room a lot more now too.  Despite the fact that many of the clothes I pick out still don't fit, I try not to let it bother me too much.  

I'm currently on the hunt for a bikini top and some shorts.  This has proven to be challenging.  It seems like they only sell bikini tops in youth sizes....  Or that's what it looks like when I try them on.  If I was going to use Doritos to cover my boobs, I'd do that!  And, at a fraction of the cost!  I get it, you don't want girls without a tiny frame sporting a bikini, but I'm not going to wear it for the whole world.  I just want something comfortable to wear around family... you know, the people who won't judge me.  I'm not giving up.  I'm going to find it, it might cost me an arm and a leg, but I'll find it.

In addition to the bikini top, I've found it hard to find good shorts.  I don't quite understand why a size 18 is not always a size 18.  Why aren't there standard sizes?  Tonight I picked up three pairs of size 18 shorts off of the same rack (same brand) and one of them was much larger than the other two pairs -- like three inches bigger.  Of course, I tried on the larger ones first and they didn't even fit comfortably.  This confuses me because I have a size 16 pair of jeans that fit me great.  How in the world can we make girls feel good about their size if they can't even figure out what size they are?  

I think part of the issue for me is that sometimes the clothes are "juniors" and sometimes they are "womens."  Why is a size 18 in juniors different than a size 18 in womens?  Or how do we make it more clear so I know what size pants I'm trying on before I get into the dressing room.  It's really very frustrating.  I think there is also a plus size 18.....  JUST FIGURE IT OUT PEOPLE!  Quit messing with our heads.  

In short (ha, ha - get it - shorts), I'll continue to search for shorts and keep trying them on no matter what.  I can't let little things get to me.  If I could realize I was obese for short periods of time and then forget about it, I can surely feel crummy about not fitting something for a short period of time and then forget about it.  And, really, I think it's more important that I feel healthy physically and mentally then worry about what size pants I'm wearing.  

Until tomorrow.  

Envy

So the other night, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw this post from an old friend.  I read through the comments and recognized someone I hadn't seen since about the 5th or 6th grade (maybe before that).  I tend to think that I don't forget about people, but this person hadn't crossed my mind for 20 years.  I went into total stalker mode -- Facebook is good for that.

After going through several of her photos, I realized she's still got "it."  Sadly, I was not happy for this 36 year old woman who seemed to have a pretty great life and the body/looks to match.  Instead, I went into total judgement/comparison mode and ended in a jealous-anxiety fit.  Immediately, I go into thanking my husband for marrying me (and I am very thankful for that) and spouting off depressing things about him not having the opportunity to find someone better!  WTF?!  I mean, I was fine! FINE! five minutes before that.  Proud of the life I have, the marriage I have, the kids I have raised, the career I've chosen, the weight I've lost....

This crazy behavior proves that although I'm "working on it," I still have a long way to go!  The good thing is, I was able to fall asleep and actually sleep.  The better thing is, I woke up refreshed and thinking why in the world are you comparing two totally different lives with one another?  I think this is progress.  This is something that could have brought me down for quite sometime.

I'm about to make a judgement/comparison/jealousy statement (admitting you have a problem is the first step - I think):  I am so envious of some of my friends who lead their lives full of happiness and love for others.  I try to do that, sometimes I think I do...maybe I need to give myself more credit, but these people amaze me.  I love them to pieces because they look at the world with an open mind.  Although I pretend to do this, I'm not as good at it as I'd like to believe.  I think deep down (maybe not that deep), I feel like if I open up to this person or that person, I might get duped.  Maybe they don't really like me, they're only pretending, and then someday they'll attack (whatever that means).  For this reason, I keep a guard up....  I cannot remember anyone ever doing something like this to me, but I remember feeling like this as far back as grade school.  This seems quite demented and makes me wonder why I have this strange fear.  

In high school, this boy kept asking me to a dance - so often it was really annoying.  I never said yes, but I probably would have if I didn't think that he was joking.  I thought it was just a prank.  He was a good friend and I liked him as a person, but I really thought there was some surprise ending that was lurking in the shadows if I said yes.  Why?  What would make me think that?  It's surprising that I said yes when my now hubby asked me out the first time.  It's probably because the risk was worth the reward.    

I think the woman on Facebook reminded me that I'm not the only lady out there.... Seriously, sometimes I forget.  It makes me question if I'm good enough for my husband; which is just awful and he's never treated me as if I wasn't.  It's just another irrational fear that I can't figure out where it stems from.  It's like I think, if he sees this woman and sees how hot she is then maybe he'll wish he had dated her instead.  Sad fact, I've deleted people from my Facebook page because they were too pretty....  What it the hell is wrong with me!

I'll take the small victory of being able to let it go quickly, but I wonder if I'll ever be able figure out what causes me to react this way.  Maybe it doesn't matter what causes it, only that I fix it.  Now, how do I do that?

To Hike or Not To Hike

So, this summer marks the three year anniversary of our last backpacking trip.  Oddly, I knew this time would come.  It was three years between our first trip and our second trip and as summer was approaching, it just seemed like the time was right to take the trip again.

I've spent the last two days recollecting the last two trips and while the visual walk down memory lane was magnificent, the physical thought of repeating that hike is far less interesting.  The whole experience is something that is so hard for me to describe, it's something you have to experience for yourself.  

While the total distance may not seem like much (some people actually do this as a day hike), the elevation change is intense and the physical toll it takes on a body is crushing.  I lost my big toe nails after both the previous hikes and while the blisters were better on the second hike (thanks to new boots), they were still there.  

Still, there is something inside that is pushing me to go.  I want to know how much easier it will be after losing some weight.  Yet, I'm scared that it won't be any easier and I'll still feel as though I'm going to die and letting others down.  I've been thinking about this for months and I'm still having a hard time making the decision to go.  My head goes back and forth between hiking and camping.... If I just want to go camping, that's a whole lot easier.  However, my heart wants to be back up in those mountains.    

As of Wednesday, we are leaning towards going.  In fact, at this point I'm going to say we are going -- we've started a packing list so that's a pretty good sign it's going to happen.  This time though, both my boys want to go.  It will be interesting to have them along.  They worry about me and my physical capabilities a lot.  I've noticed this more as I've become more active.  I don't want them to worry about me on the hike.  I just want them to enjoy the walk and take in the beauty and hopefully, they'll find a love for backpacking and continue to do it long after their time with us.

Our current goal for the hike is to take two or three days to hike and still travel nearly 20 miles.  I'm not sure I will be able to do it though.  We've never done it in that little time.  If you set a time frame though, you have to stick to it because you have people waiting for you and no way to contact them until you're out of the mountains.  Also, you only pack so much food.  You don't want to carry more weight then you need to.  So, if we say we are going to do this in three days, we have to do it in three days.  The time frame also worries me because once you're up there, you want to see as much as possible.  There are so many lakes you could visit and with that short time frame, we won't be able to make it to very many places.  Still, the adventure will be good and anything you get to see up there will be worth the trip.

Anxiety is going to cause me some grief over the next few weeks as I stress about all of the things that could go wrong and all the ways I might fail, but I'm not going to let anxiety keep me from going.  I need to know how much of a difference weighing less will make - if any.  I'm still worried about how hard it's going to be and what will happen to my mindset if I don't find it any easier.  

Backpacking at 294 Pounds

In 2013, my husband, his friend, and I set out to hike through the same mountain range as we had hiked in 2010.  This time though, we were taking a different path and planned a trip that would cover 30 miles of terrain in six days.  The idea of hiking this area again was unbearable.  Before when we had hiked, we had spent the months before preparing by working out at the gym - something we didn't do this time.  Not to mention, adding 20 pounds to my weight didn't encourage me any either.  Still, after many conversations and debates, I said I would go.  I did this only for my husband because I knew he wanted to go again and I also knew he wouldn't go without me (we're a team that way - a package deal if you will).  This time, we would be travelling with one of my husbands best friends from high school -- an avid hiker.  Last time, I was worried about failing my hubby, but this time, I was worried about failing them both.  

Determined not to die, I hugged my dad at the trail head and thanked him for the ride, before strapping into our packs and taking one last photo.  I tried to think of an excuse to get me back into that pick-up, but nothing was coming to mind and I knew my pack contained communal gear.  With hesitation and fear, I cinched down my straps and began the walk to the trail.  Before long, we were out of site and into the woods.... This was happening again.  

When we hit the fork, we took the left this time, which in someways relieved me a bit.  It was a new trail, a new path, and gave me hope that I may be successful after all.  We hiked for hours, this time slower than the last.  With each step, I knew I was holding my other party members back.  I wanted so desperately to be able to keep a good pace for them, but knew that I couldn't do it.  In the distance, our final resting place could be seen for miles and each hour that passed seemed to push the mountains further away.  The new trail was gradual and provided beautiful scenery.  I could imagine the Nez Perce camping in the glacier-carved valley next to the calm creek that flowed through it.  Their tipi's spread out, children laughing and playing, and horses grazing.  I imagine it would be a wonderful place to live for the summer, high above the world and so peaceful.  This daydream kept me going for quite awhile.

Within a mile or so (I was too tired to know for sure) from our first stop, I became overwhelmingly exhausted.  I was ready to quit, but my husbands friend charged ahead, dropped off his pack and returned to pack mine the rest of the way.  This was my first defeat.  I had failed both my husband and his friend and embarrassed myself.... I literally couldn't even pull my own weight.

By the time we made it to the first stop, I was beating myself up pretty bad over my inability to make it on my own to the lake.  Although the guys were awesome, I knew that I had slowed them down by several hours and it was only day one.  We made camp, enjoyed the stars while laying out on the rocks, ate some food, drank a little whiskey, and settled in for the night.  

The next morning, we packed up camp and headed down the trail, through the same rocky hillsides we had passed through before, but this time, we pushed on past the beautiful lake where we had camped before and made our way to another valley where we made camp.  Then, we hiked to the bottom of a mountain cased with granite boulders.  This is where I would leave these two as they ventured up this insane slope to a lake at the top.  Still exhausted from the hike the day before and the one that morning, I slowly found my way back to where we made camp.  Here, I rested in my hammock until the boys returned bearing fish.  I spent the next half hour or so weaving a small basket to cook the fish on.  The warmth of the fire, the taste of fresh fish, and the conversation was enough to make me forget about my anguish from the day before.   

The following day, we headed over the mountain and rested at a lake we had never seen before.  It's always hard for me to describe how incredibly beautiful these places are, but every time you see something new up there, your jaw drops and you realize how small you are in this big world.  It stops time and allows you to enjoy the beauty of nature.  This lake was no different.  We made camp on the other side, fished for hours using grasshoppers we caught along the shore, and slept soundly under the starlit sky.  

On day four, we made our way around the lake and crossed a creek before heading down the rocky trail.  Our packs were slightly lighter and our lungs were adjusting to the altitude.  We followed the gravel path for quite some time before I stepped on rock and twisted my ankle.  My hiking poles kept me from falling all the way to the ground and helped me make it the remainder of the way down the path.  When we reached the bottom (and more lakes), we sat, took our boots off, and did a little bandaging.  We also did a lot of contemplating.  Here is where the trail split.  To the right, the path we planned on taking.  To the left, the shorter path....  For the first time since day one, I knew I was holding everyone back and I didn't want to be the reason the trip was cut short.  I wanted so desperately to finish the 30 mile trek that we had planned, but the boys chose the shorter path.  I knew it was because of me (they were both fine), but they would never say that was chose the shorter route.  

Sadly, we marched to the left and headed down the mountain.  On the trail, I silently took blame for ruining the trip that was planned and I knew I let everyone down.  To make matters worse, the clouds rolled in and rain fell.  The proximity of thunder and lightning put a sense of urgency in my step and I booked it as fast as my legs could go.  We made it to the meadow where we were able to set up camp just before the down pour.  Eventually the clouds parted and we were able to enjoy our last night in the mountains; although, the guilt in my heart was heavy.

On our final day, we packed up camp one last time and headed down the same path we had exited on three years before.  This time though, it didn't feel as triumphant.  Instead, I anguished in pain as I reflected on my failures.  I was certain this would be the last time I made this trip.  I was just too big to do this kind of thing.  Choosing the path to the left was almost as bad as being rescued; I just wanted it all to be over.  As we made our way down the trail, past the river, and saw the lake signifying we were near the end, I couldn't help, but be a little proud of what I had accomplished.  Although there were mishaps, there were also plenty of reasons to be pleased with what I was able to do at 294 pounds.  

Emotionally, this trip was quite different than my first trip through these mountains.  I had little faith
in my abilities and yet, I also knew that there weren't a lot of 300 pound people even attempting this feat.  I wanted to be strong for the two men that were travelling with me, but I wasn't nearly as strong as I had hoped.  It hurt so much to see myself as a failure in front of these two and taking the short-cut didn't help, but I doubt they ever saw me as a failure.  It's funny how differently we perceive ourselves from the way others see us.  Three years later, I can look back and see how they might have seen my journey as an inspiration, not a failure. 

Backpacking at 274 Pounds

Beginning of the trail - 2010

In 2010, at 274 pounds, my husband and I went on a six day 22 mile backpacking trip with nearly thirty pounds of gear strapped to our backs (okay, so his was probably more than 30 lbs).  Six years later, I remember the feeling of complete exhaustion.  In particular, I remember on day one, we were about half way to our destination when we stepped off the trail, removed our packs and boots, and rested our sweat soaked bodies on the bend of a river.  Removing my pack was one of the best feelings ever - my body felt like it was floating.  Our exuberance was quickly terminated when it was time to lace up our boots and strap our packs on again to finish our first day of hiking.  By the time we reached the lake where we would make camp, I could barely feel my feet/legs and I'm sure I had complained for at least the last two miles of the trek.  We made camp, ate what little food we could get down, and crashed for the night.  

The following morning, we packed up camp and headed over the pass.  Still exhausted from the previous day, we slowly climbed our way to the top.  Along the way, we were met with a horrific (yet oddly beautiful at that elevation) thunder and lightning storm and a downpour of rain, but as we reached the summit, the clouds parted, the sun shined through, and a rainbow appeared in the distance.  It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen.  The view from the top made me feel as though I had just conquered the world.  Looking down over the basin, I felt as though I could do anything.  Yet, the descent into the basin would prove to be the hardest part of the entire trip.  By the time we reached our camp for day two, the pads of my feet (just behind my toes) and under my toenails were blistered and so sore I could barely walk.  At this point, I was overwhelmed with emotions, drained, and ready to quit.  I was certain I would have to be carried out by a rescue team.

On the third day, again we packed up camp and headed towards our next resting point.  I recall walking gingerly on the dirt path that cut through the luscious green grass surrounded by rock walls, quietly following my husband and taking in the complete silence and beauty that can only be found 8,000 feet above sea level; yet, grimacing with each step on my blistered feet.  As we made our way down the gradual trail, and walked through the opening of the hillsides, we peered down at another heavenly sight as we set eyes on the lake where we would be spending the next night.  It was a short hike which gave my feet some time to rest.  We spent the next two days, fishing, washing our clothes in the lake, and stowed away in our tent during down pours.  

Day four, we hiked to our next camp spot and here we enjoyed the warmth of a fire, fishing in the lake, and reminisced about our journey.  It was bitter sweet knowing that our adventure would soon be over.  While my feet were still riddled with pain, I knew that the connection my husband and I were making on this expedition could not be replaced.  We had been through so much together.  He pushed me both physically and emotionally to continue the journey when I thought it was impossible.  He reminded me that I was strong and capable of anything.  

On day five, we made our way to our final resting place.  On this night, we did not camp near a lake, but rather just off of the trail.  Here, we again enjoyed the warmth of a fire and savored the conversation.  We knew that the day ahead would be a long and tiresome one, but we wanted to make the most of our final night in the mountains.  

By day six, we were tired of dry tuna and pita pockets, but we were quite good at packing up camp quickly and efficiently and stuffing everything back into our packs.  For two people who had never been on an adventure like this one, we fared pretty well.  Did we need six days to do it?  Probably not, but it did give my feet a chance to heal along the way and it allowed us time to take hundreds of pictures, enjoy the scenery, and connect on a deeper level than ever before.  There was also something assuring in knowing that we had six days to complete this 22 mile adventure - if it weren't for that, I may have never gone.  

End of the trail - 2010

Our walk out that day was quiet and saddening in many ways, but it also felt intensely glorious.  We crossed a river by walking across some fallen trees, passed through a meadow, and meandered our way down the rocky trail which followed a river for much of the way.  Near the end, we caught glimpses of the lake and we knew we were getting close.  Although not as magnificent as the view from the summit or the view as we passed between the rocky hillsides, this view was also welcoming.  It meant our journey was ending and we we could almost taste the celebratory hamburger, fries, and coke that we would devour once we reached our endpoint.  

For me, hiking at 274 pounds was incredibly challenging both physically and mentally, but it was also empowering.  Throughout the entire trek, my husband reminded me repeatedly of how proud he was of me and how strong I was.  He would also point out that in all the times throughout the hike where we had passed people along the trail, never did we pass anyone as heavy as me (or even close) and we never saw a woman with a pack as full as mine.  Without him, I'm certain I would have turned around after the first two or three miles.  Although it was empowering, hiking 22 miles didn't make me want to be any healthier.  If anything, it made me feel like I was fine the way I was.  In fact, it might have diluted my obesity at least as seen through my eyes.  

Listen to Your Mother

My Mom and Me 1998

My mother has this saying, "What people say behind your back is none of your business."  At first it seems sort of weird to think about.  I mean, why wouldn't people talking about me be my business?  Then, the more you think through it you realize just how ingenious it really is. 

I've heard my mom say that saying countless times.  I never really thought it applied to me, because I truly believed that I didn't care what people think.  And, in some cases, I'll say that is true, but in the case of my weight, it seems like I need that saying more than ever.  I wonder what her saying would be if someone is talking about you to you....  I'll have to ask.

Today, my husband reminded me that part of my journey through this whole weight loss/freeing my body and mind thing has to be letting go of what others say or do.  It also has to somehow change how I am effected by what people say or think about me; or more likely, what I think they are thinking/saying about me.  

I've made a lot of gains both mentally and physically, but I know that I still have a long way to go.  That is especially evident when I am caught off guard by something someone says.  You know that scene in Pretty Woman (1990), at the polo match where Phillip tells Vivian that he knows about her little secret and you can see Vivian's demeanor change?  She seems caught off guard, sick to her stomach, and betrayed.  Sometimes people say things that make me feel like Julia Roberts in that scene.  I feel abandoned and like I want to give up on everything and go back to the way things were a year ago.  It's confusing and frustrating at the same time and it always seems to break my heart.

Although I am working through all of my issues, I'm far from healed.  I have no idea how long it will take me to heal emotionally. Just because I wrote about an issue, doesn't mean it no longer exists -- I wish that were the case.  Likewise, just because I may seem fine on the outside, that doesn't mean that I'm not still fragile and shattered on the inside. 

As I work towards mending, I need to remember my mother's saying and what really matters in life.



**Tip #4 - If you don't respect yourself, no one else will.  Take time for you.  Put make-up on, fix your hair, do you nails, relax and enjoy the little things.  You're worth it.  


PS - I like Jamberry nail wraps, they last longer....

Wait For It

We live in a World where things are readily available.  If you want something, you can simply go to the store and get it.  Take these tomatoes for example, my son is waiting patiently to eat these tomatoes because they aren't ready yet.  However, if he really wanted tomatoes, he could just go buy some.  In rural places and older times, waiting is/was a way of life.  You plan ahead and make arrangements before receiving what you want.  As a child, I lived in a small town and waiting was a bigger part of my life.  Now, I live in the city and have nearly everything I could ever want at my fingertips.  As a result, I'm one of those people who live in the now.  If I want something, I want it now and usually I get it now.  Rarely do I have to wait for something. 

Thinking back to all my car buying experiences (and we've had several), I can think on only one that didn't end in my purchasing a car within a day or two of deciding I wanted it.  Usually, it goes something like this:  I decide I want/need a new car, I begin looking online, find 10 or so cars I like, narrow it down to two or three, test drive them, buy one.  Of course, this all happens within the day I decide I want one or the next day.  Occasionally, I'm sure it's been three days since the time I first found one I wanted, but I can't remember that happening.

Similarly, a couple weeks ago I decided I wanted a canoe in the middle of the night, I started looking for one online, and the following day we decided on a price and made arrangements for picking it up.  I wanted a new bike last year so I could ride to work (about a mile) as part of my get healthy movement.  Within a day or two I had a bike and rode it to work a whopping three times last year.  I love my bike, but my idea of how I would use it and how I actually used it were very far apart.  

When I decided I wanted to go back to school, I went in and met with the counselor (with a lot of anxiety) and she told me it would take me three or four years to finish the first part of the courses because I had a full time job and four children.  This was something that could be done in two years and I did it in two years and then moved on to finish my bachelors degree in the next two years.  

The point I wish to make is that I'm impatient and sometimes that is good and sometimes it is bad.  In the case of attending college, it was a good thing.  In the case of needing a $150 bike that sat in my living room for a year, not such a good thing.  Even worse, my impatience makes me feel like I "need" food right now!  It might be 20 minutes or less until dinner, but if I think I'm starving, I eat right away and then eat again when dinner is ready.  Often times, I just snack through the whole dinner making time.  Food is so readily available that it makes it nearly impossible to not give in to my impulses and indulge in a snack whenever I want it.  I'm working on this, but it is still hard. 

My doctor asks me, "Why are you really eating? What need are you fulfilling?"  I always think hunger, duh!  As, I blog about my personal issues and what's keeping/making me fat, I am beginning to see there are lots of reasons I am eating.  I eat when I feel anxious and this is probably my biggest issue, but I also eat when I'm tired, overwhelmed, stressed, sad, and depressed.  My urge to have things when I want them only supports these bad eating behaviors.  If I'm feeling anxious, tired, overwhelmed, stressed, sad, or depressed and food is an option and I think that's what I need, then I'm going to eat it.  I'm working on replacing that desire to eat food with something else, but I have yet to find something that works every time.  I think it's important to have a lot of tools to replace these feelings and I'm working on it, but in no way do I have the answers.  

The art of waiting may hold the key to my success.... Now, to practice patience/waiting - starting today of course.  

The Unseen Risks of Being Obese

As I was laying in bed this morning, I remembered my CPAP machine lying on the floor next to me.... I haven't used the machine in months.  I really should go through another sleep study and see if I still have sleep apnea.  

In April of 2015, my doctor had me tested for sleep apnea and I thought it was ridiculous.  I felt fine, I slept fine, and a barely snored (my husband would agree).  Although, shortly after the sleep study, I was told I had sleep apnea and would need a CPAP machine to help me sleep at night.  I was certain they were wrong.  After some research to learn about CPAP and sleep apnea, then finally getting a machine in August, I still couldn't believe it was true.  Still, at the risk of causing my life to be any shorter, I used the CPAP daily and slowly worked up to keeping it on through the night.  It was embarrassing to use and I usually buried my head under the covers so that my husband wouldn't see me with it on.    

Thinking back, I remember laying on my side as I always did to sleep and having so much fat pushed up around my throat area that I couldn't breath as well as I had thought.  It wasn't until I actually had the CPAP machine that I realized this was an issue, but it didn't take long for me to see how much I loved having a clear airway.  It's amazing what you live with and don't realize it's a problem until someone brings it to your attention.  I wonder how many people are cutting years off of their life because they stop breathing through the night due to their airway closing.  

Since losing the first 50 pounds, I quit using my CPAP machine.  I guess I didn't feel like I needed it anymore.  The image below makes me think I should probably be wearing it every night. 

https://www.reddit.com

This picture (real or not), is one of the things that got me started on a healthier path.  I saw it somewhere and thought, I don't weigh 250 lbs, I weigh over 300....can you imagine what the scan would look like then?  I find it sad and disgusting to see the stomach so bloated and the poor bones trying to support such a large frame.  It was one of those things that made me realize, whether I saw myself as obese or not, my body was fully aware and suffering the consequences.

It seems like I was given 20 years to figure out that I was overweight and I couldn't see it.  I still viewed myself as skinny.  Now as I lose weight and things become so much easier, I still see myself as the same 'skinny' person I've always been, but I realize how distorted my reality was and worry that just because I've lost some weight I'll be satisfied with myself enough to stop the healthy trends regardless of how much more weight I need to lose to actually be healthy.  Writing blogs like this one that remind me of the actual health concerns with being overweight is helpful and I hope it will continue to keep me on the track to success.  It's easy to get caught up in the success and let it all go.  I need to keep pushing forward and see the potential ahead.  

Why I Weigh Daily

My goal for the magical month of July is to write one blog post every day.  So, although it seems like a lot right now, I'll definitely be slowing down after this month.

The bad thing about writing everyday is that I can't choose to write on days where my mood is positive.  So, instead, you're getting the full range of emotions and let me tell you (in case you hadn't noticed), I'm an emotionally girl!  The added stress of trying not to shove food in my face every time I'm feeling anxious or upset doesn't seem to help with my mood swings.  Also, looking at the scale daily doesn't really help that either.  

Despite my uneasiness with the scale, I weigh daily (if at all possible).  I find that weighing daily actually helps with my anxiety.  I've read a little (okay, one or two articles) about how weighing daily effects your mind and they suggest doing what works for you.... So, this works for me.  Weighing daily sets the tone for my day and it reminds me that I'm trying to live a healthier lifestyle.  If the number is lower, then I'm pumped and want to stay on track.  If the number is higher, then I know I need to try harder today.  The important thing for me to remember is not to get hung-up on what the scale reads on any particular day.  I've been getting better at this over the past year.  It's important for me to know what it says, but that doesn't mean it needs to ruin your day/week (although sometimes it still does).  I record my weight once a week and when I started out, I only recorded my weight if it was lower than the week before, but over the past couple months, I've recorded it no matter what.  I think it has helped me to see that there are going to be little bumps and it's okay.  One of the hardest things for me though, is an increase in my weight after a day of working out and being really active.  It seems like that happens more often than not.  It does seem like I lose more on my rest days that follow workout days though.  Something I should probably be tracking, but I think people should track what they can and add more when/if they can.   

Most importantly, I have my hubby!  On days where I don't easily brush off the higher number on the scale, he's there to remind me that it will be better tomorrow (or eventually).  Sometimes his positivity drives me crazy, but he's usually right....  

Tip #4 - Use the scale anyway you'd like, but don't let it ruin your day.  It's supposed to be there to guide you, not to make you feel like crap!

Grandma Sharron

Grandma and Me - Graduation 1998

Death is strange.  I wonder why certain people are chosen?  It always shocks me when someone healthy dies of a disease or cancer or some "natural" cause.  These are people who have taken care of their bodies, exercise often, fuel themselves with healthy foods....  Why them and not someone like me?  

For someone who is already a procrastinator (me), I find it very unmotivating when someone seemingly healthy dies or develops health complications.  In fact, I actually regress a little.  If the goal of becoming healthy is to live a longer better life, then why doesn't that necessarily happen?  I worry that by getting healthier I will actually be changing my body so much that it will start to fail me -- strange, I know!

Grandma With My Two Oldest Daughters

About six and a half years ago, my grandma died.  She was overweight for as long as I knew her, but she didn't start out that way.  We had a similar weight path I think.  It seemed like she was on a diet quite often and there were a couple diets that almost killed (as I remember it).  My grandma didn't die from being over weight, she died from starvation caused by Dementia.  Before the onset of her Dementia, she was in a car accident and then her medical issues began to pile up.  During the last few months, she was convinced that the hospital staff was trying to poison her and she had stopped eating. Dementia is a horrible disease.  I dream of the day there is a cure!  

What I don't understand is what causes it's sudden onset?  I wonder if my grandmother's weight had an effect on the start of the disease.  It's something that has bothered me for years.  I gained quite a bit of weight after my grandma's death and yet, her death made me wonder about my food choices and life expectancy if I continued on that way.  Still, it was years later before I finally hit my low and started this whole process.  

And now, as the weight is starting to come off and I'm down nearly 85 pounds, I worry about the negative effects the weight-loss might have on me.  I'm sure the positive are much greater than the negative, but nonetheless, I worry!  Truthfully, all the anxiety, stress, and worry I place on everything will probably kill me long before the weight or lack thereof.  

Katie

Yesterday, my 1st grade teacher as well as a member of my extended family died from cancer.  She was an active person and lived a healthy life.  About a month ago, her children created an online group for people to send words of encouragement.  I never really knew what to say so I never said anything.  Ironically, yesterday morning I thought, 'I better write something too her before it's too late.'  Later that afternoon they announced her passing.  It's amazing how quickly a life can be taken.  She was surrounded by loved ones and will be greatly missed, but I'm certain she is no longer living in pain.  

I know it's been said a million times, but PLEASE let people know how you feel about them before it's too late.

Anxiety Drives This Bus

I'm starting this post with tears rolling down my cheeks.  I hope to finish it without them!  

As a few of my previous posts have mentioned, I suffer from anxiety.  In my case (and maybe other's), my anxiety tends to build and one thing making me anxious will lead to anxiety about another thing related or unrelated.  These things will haunt me for days or weeks.  I lose sleep and feel exhausted even when I do get sleep.  I have heart palpitations which only worsen my anxiety.  And although I know there is no real reason to be anxious, I can't control it.  

My current anxieties started from a need to contact my bank over a bank error.  This seems simple enough and yet it's taken me five days to contact them.  Finally this morning, I found enough courage to contact them and the next available representative wouldn't be ready for 56 minutes.....  Of course, this heightened my anxiety and my heart began to beat harder and tears began to roll.  It's very frustrating when you finally face your fears (at a time that is most convenient for you) and they aren't ready to be faced.  I don't know why this time it was hard for me to call the bank.  Sometimes, calling someone isn't a big deal at all, but this time it was.  And when they finally called back they weren't even willing to admit to their own mistakes.  This is something that I should be able to let go, but I can't.  It will stay with me for at least the rest of the day and if I'm lucky, it will end there.  This is why I put this off for so long.  I knew I couldn't handle it and I didn't want to be a withdrawn mother/wife because of a stupid phone conversation with someone who doesn't give a crap what happens in our lives.

Of course to add to my anxiety, I had family coming over for the 4th of July.  Which was great, but I worry about what people think, if we will have enough food and something everyone will eat, and if people will have a good time.  My need to please everyone causes a major amount of anxiety for me, but I also know that leaving my house and attending someone else's get together causes a lot of anxiety.  So, there is not really a good way out of this one.  Now that it's over, it all seemed to go fine. 

Next, my oldest daughter celebrated her 17th birthday yesterday.  I'm never good at birthdays.  I know that I didn't get my children a gift that they will be extremely thrilled about, I can't plan ahead enough to think about a cake, and forget about having a real party with friends.  There have been very few birthdays where my children actually had a "party" like their friends have.  I just can't do it.  The parties that did happen were successful only because I had help from my husband or sister(s).  It's nearly impossible for me to plan a birthday party and I have no idea why.  It makes me feel sad to know that out of 17 birthdays, my daughter probably only had 3 parties and one of those was her 1st birthday.  It makes me even more sad to realize that my other children had less than that.  So, I had the anxiety of providing my daughter with a crappy birthday and also anxiety because my daughter is 17 and I know I really only have one more year with her living at home.  This is a topic I try to avoid because the pain is too real to face.  Ignoring it is the only way I have to deal with it.

Ignorance/avoidance is really the only coping mechanism I have for many things.  So, for 5 days I ignored the bank issue and for 17 years I've avoided (or tried) thinking about my daughter leaving home.  And, for nearly 20 years I ignored the fact that I was obese and continuing to gain weight.  I don't know how to fix this!  I do know that I'm so overly paranoid that I will gain it back or stop losing that I weigh daily (only once a day though) and get quite anxious when I only lose one or two pounds in a two or three week stretch.  This is currently happening and something else that has been added to my already full plate of anxiety.  

Sometimes, I can get help with things on my "plate," but other things I need to deal with myself.  There is no one to help me with them and there is no way for people to help if they wanted too.  It's when my plate is too full or seems too full that I am at my lowest.  I can't think about planning vacations or planning anything that is more than a day in advance.  When people try to talk to me about making plans or something they have going on, I tend to shut down.  I don't mean to do it, but I can't help it.  It's just too much, I can feel my blood pressure rising and my heart beats harder and faster and then, my anxiety rises -- sometimes to the point of having a panic attack.  

For days, I've been on the verge of a panic attack.  People think they are talking to me about reasonable things (and they are).  Trying to plan fun events and activities or talk about something going on in their lives.  They can't see that on the inside, I am freaking out!  If only they could read my mind or see when I was being affected by this illness.  I fear saying this will cause people to not talk to me about anything and that is not good either.  The majority of the time, I am fine, but when I'm not fine, I'm really not fine and I hope people understand why I provide so little input/feedback.  I'm not being insensitive, I'm just mentally unable to comprehend all that is going on in my life.  When it gets this bad, I can really only see three options to sooth my pain:  sleep all day, take a blue pill (prescribed), or EAT.  Usually, I choose to eat......