the big ol beccyb story
and I have put it there to bracket off the history until now. It was a very useful process to get it out and another day, when I am feeling a little more together, I shall write more about our first baby, Max. It was a complicated tale, and has changed who I am. And he deserves his story told well. But I am still a bit empty.
I can't promise that as I head down this bonkers path, there won't be more ridiculously long posts, as I need to journal my stuff out of my head.
But lets get back moving forward now that we have done some looking back...
I've been enjoying the food, making lots of substitutions but also trying lots of new things. I am blessed with kids and a husband who have adventurous tastes. The exercise is going well too, a little support from the forums here and there but am enjoying the 10k program.
And holy basketball jumps, has anyone else tried Michelles super shredder curcuit DVD? My glutes are still sore from Saturday. What a shred. Shall be including that a little more often cos it doesn't hurt when you do it, but my word, there's a staggery walk to the toilet next morning. I love that 'my legs are so workout-sore, it hurts to sit on the toilet' feeling. Don't you?
It's week 3. I went a little off the rails last week and had a mental meltdown of moderate proportions.
Prompted by the caring words of a colleague, I have made some steps towards formalising the diagnosis of Bipolar II. I feel ok about the process now that I have had a bit of space from it.
And in blackdog's self test, errr, I scored pretty high.
Today I saw a counsellor that I have seen before throught the Employee Assistance Program (EAP) that my health service offers. You can have a few sessions, face to face or telephone for any kind of crazy - work stress, financial stress, personal issues or relationship stress.
I should have remembered that the last time I saw her, for a glut of super stressful work stuff that lead to me being a bit snakey at home, the first response was to offer me a book called "good sex, great lovin'" and we talked little about the issues at hand. I don't believe the book was particularly relevant to my situation, if you get my TMI drift.
Today, when I mentioned that she was my first port of call to get some support for my difficult to manage mood and that it had been suggested that I have Bipolar II and that my research and self reflection would support that, she launched in with a few anecdotes...
About her friend with a Bipolar husband who clearly has Bipolar I and sells the furniture while she's out.
About mania (err, I am talking about Hypomania, it's not the same) and how I don't have it. I know.
About how the woman in the next office could do some kinesiology, and white magic.
White magic. Seriously.
Would you like to make an appointment for another time?
I am seeing a GP/counsellor (of course my GP is away) on Thursday. I shall get myself a plan and I will be ok.
I can happily report that the Nigelator, he of the middle of the road, he who reports he actually has no feelings, is coping very well with having a bonkers wife. He has been kind and encouraged me out the door to run when I have felt more like putting staples in my eye.
It made me think of the lyrics to the Sheryl Crowe song 'Are you strong enough to be my man?'
I sang it to him today. Turns out he is.
The times when exercise could sweep out the cobwebs and make us feel physically strong and capable and much more able to cope, are the times we feel least able to.
It is interesting that the times that most of us have looked our best physically, have been the times when we are least 'together' on the inside.
I suspect that I am like many with 'issews' with weight and food, it's not about the food. People who overeat or are outside a healthy weight range often eat to protect themselves - if I am fat, I am less attractive, I'm invisible. I am safe.
Protected from what?
Inappropriate contact - so many women have been raped, or molested or experienced unwanted sexual contact and so being physically invisible, as many overweight people do, feels like insulation. The same could be said of the invisibility of wasting away through eating disorders of food withholding.
Protected from feeling. Feeling real emotions. Connecting with people, allowing them to see us for who we are. Risking that they do not like us. Risking that they do.
It is tough to be vulnerable. The world can be prickly.
Embracing the 12WBT and grabbing this moment where my mental health is challenging me seems like a bit of a double whammy. I feel like I should do one or the other.
But they are intrinsically linked. I need to get myself well - and my physical and mental health are equally important. Imaging how great it'll be when I have smashed the 12wbt and have a plan to keep my mental health manageable?
Off out the door after a nice carrot wrap to do my strength work outside in the sun.