Made her cry

Several years ago, when I was still living in my hometown, I was working in a restaurant. I enjoyed the actual work, and most of my coworkers were pretty cool, but there was this one girl who did nothing but whine about how fat she was.

She was a high school student, a cheerleader who was tall and very thin. She had two friends working there, and they would rally around her and tell her how non-fat and beautiful she was.

Now, at the time, I was not as fat as I am now, but I wasn't thin either. I was in the process of becoming the size I am now, because I was willing to eat regular meals. Once I started doing that, my wrecked metabolism responded with glee, piling on stored energy like there was no tomorrow (or at least, no tomorrow that had food available). So, most people can imagine how aggravated the constant "OMG I AM SO FAT" was to me.

I finaly snapped one evening. I had heard it one time too many, and this time, she said it to me instead of to her ass-kissing friends. I said, "Look at you, and look at me. When you run around all day complaining about how fat you are, then what the hell are you saying about me? Do you even think about how it makes other people feel when you do that?"

She ran off, crying. Her friends came up and told me that I shouldn't have been so mean to her. I told them that I was tired of her insulting everyone else who was fatter than she was with her constant complaining, and that I wasn't sorry for telling her that.

After that, I noticed that she had stopped the behavior, which was a relief to other non-thin workers as well. I guess getting her to look at someone other than herself for a change gave her a much-needed reality check.

I want to add that, yes, maybe she was suffering from an eating disorder, or Body Dysmorphic Disorder. Maybe I could have been more sensitive to that. In my defense, I was much younger then, and didn't know about BDD; she sounded whiny and selfish to me, and having at least one person working there recovering from an ED, we just didn't want to hear it anymore.

I would not say the same things today--I'd probably be nicer, and take her aside and ask her if she's talked to her doctor about her self image. And maybe one could say that it wasn't any of my business to do so, but when someone is making their mental health issues everyone else's problem the way she was, it became our business.

Eat something! Please!

Every morsel we eat must be justified by health reasons. We are no longer allowed to eat enjoyably without having a scarlet F sewn upon our bellies. You eat the banana for potassium, not because it tastes good. Chocolate is permitted only because it contains antioxidants. Every package of food reminds us that it is fat free, high in antioxidants, full of vitamin C, low on calories, or otherwise healthy in some way. It is no longer a good enough excuse to eat because we are hungry--hunger is regarded as a necessary misery that is never to be assuaged. If you choose to respond to your hunger with the perfectly reasonable response of eating, you are viewed as a disgusting gluttonous animal who has no self control.

Well, screw that. Hunger is not something we should accept as necessary for health or social acceptance. If I'm hungry, I'm miserable, distractible, and less functional. When well-fed and rested, I can accomplish far more, and I am a lot easier to get along with. I have to say, too, that working with people who aren't feeding themselves enough can be aggravating. Constantly complaining that they're dizzy, always irritable, and they can't focus. Because they're starving all the time, all they talk about is food, calories, and fat. They whine and bitch at someone who IS eating well, either by saying how unfair it is for that person to eat in front of them, or by henpecking them over how unhealthy their food choices are. That, and the unending stream of "I'm sooooooooo fat" whining.

So please, for the sake of your own sanity, and for that of the people around you, eat something when you are hungry. Eat enough to satisfy your hunger--and don't fear foods that contain fat, as they can satisfy hunger more quickly than foods that have none.

Recurring dreams

I believe that dreams can reflect our deepest fears and greatest hopes, especially when they happen over and over. I have two dreams that recur constantly, although one of them has changed in the past few years.

The first one centers around my maternal grandfather. Before he passed away, I had nightmares at least twice a week of him dying. These went on for probably ten years before he died, and they were awful. After his death, though, they changed. I now have at least one dream per week that he is alive. I argue with myself, saying that I know what happened, I saw him, and my subconscious mind replies that I was just dreaming that, or that it was a hoax. I feel very uneasy about it, but am happy that things are okay now. Waking up from that one is disconcerting, and brings back the grief again. I'm happy to say that they're occurring less frequently now, but I still get them from time to time.

The second one is more awful to me. I am constantly dreaming that my parents are coming here, kidnapping me, and dragging me back to their house, away from Brian. I try to contact Brian, but my phone doesn't have his number programmed, and I can't for the life of me remember the number. I try to email, but can't find his email address or remember it. I am told that I should know better than to think I deserve him, and that I need to realize that my place is with them, not with some guy.

This dream happens at least once a week. One of my greatest fears is to be torn away from Brian and deprived of my adult freedoms. I love him very dearly, and I feel very fortunate to have him in my life. I know that he is loyal to me, and that he needs me just as much as I need him, so it would take an outside force to divide us.

I also have a fear of losing my independence. I hated being a child and teenager, not being able to do what I wanted when I wanted, being under someone else's control. When my life became my own, I was happier than ever before. I like being able to use the telephone when I like, being able to visit friends anytime they ask, and the freedom to have company in my own home. When I was younger, and didn't have this freedom, my friends would frequently become pissed off at me, and I'd lose their friendship. The dreams are reflecting a deep, subconscious fear of going back to that state, even though it could not reasonably happen.

These things don't really crop up in my waking life, fortunately, but the nightmares sometimes stay with me all day, a miasma of anxiety and dread that I can't shake. I wonder sometimes if the sleep disordered nature of fibromyalgia keeps my mind too close to the surface of consciousness, where what should have been forgotten within five minutes of waking is still running in a loop through my head. I wake from these with cramped, tight muscles, my lower back in a hard spasm that doesn't go away for hours unless I treat it* and have Brian massage it out.

I wonder, is a huge part of my muscle pain from clenching up during nightmares? If so, I need to find something that will make them stop, or make me sleep deeply enough that the shut-off between brain and muscles actually works. It goes both ways, too; sometimes I wake up with the sleep paralysis still switched on, and I go into a panic attack, other times I'm thrashing and twitching like a dreaming puppy.

* This is the ONLY thing that Flexeril has ever been able to do for me--release spasms. It doesn't make me sleep like it does other people.

Some updates--and The Knife Corollary

First, I wanted to apologize for not knowing that the thumb surgery guy was a satire. I find it interesting that the editor's note mocked people for not knowing it was satire, when people get themselves surgically modified for far stupider reasons. The article really had no indication that it was satire; apparently we were supposed to guess that it's "ridiculous" for someone to get that kind of surgery.

Secondly, I have been in the process of moving over the weekend. It's been very long and arduous, so I have spent the past couple of days in an extreme amount of pain. I've discovered a corollary to spoon theory. I'm going to call it "The Knife Corollary".

The Knife Corollary states that it is possible for some chronic pain sufferers to continue their activities when they have run out of spoons, but when they do so, they are using up knives instead. Because of the nature of knives vs. spoons, running on knives involves a great deal of pain which worsens as the activity continues. Additionally, using knives will require an even greater recovery period and amount of pain medication than would mere depletion of spoons.

I ran out of spoons quite early on this week, and every box lifted, every furnishing nudged, and every cat scooped up on the brink of escape has been an exercise in agony. Fortunately, we are mostly done (just have to bring over the aquarium and the fridge contents, then clean up).

The hardest part of this weekend was relinquishing duties to other people. We have a LOT of very generous, helpful friends who came through for us in a big way. Even so, every moment I had to rest was fraught with guilt and shame because these people were breaking their own backs because I couldn't push any harder. They told me to stop doing so much and took things away from me, and I still feel bad. I couldn't do the same for them, and I often don't have the energy to even socialize as much as I'd like. That's the life of someone whose body has so heinously betrayed her, though--to have to accept more than can ever be repaid.

In a nutshell, I'm going to be pretty wiped out for a couple of days, but I hope to be back and writing all the stuff I've had on my mind. I keep extensive notes on my thoughts, but they're packed or lost or SOMETHING, and I'll just have to come up with new stuff.

I'm pissed. Strong language warning.

If you are dieting or otherwise trying to lose weight, that is your choice, and if you're happy with it, good for you.

If I am talking about fat people getting treated like garbage, I am not saying that, "You people who are on diets are assholes". I am saying, stop treating people like shit just because they're fat. I am NOT saying, "Skinny people are stupid and should stop being skinny." You are the size you are, and I don't think it's appropriate to pick on someone for being skinny OR fat.

If I am saying that I don't think it is appropriate for dieting and weight loss to be forced upon everyone, that does not mean that I'm saying, "You, there, the person who is dieting--stop it right now."

If I say that I am agnostic, I am not saying, "You there, Catholic person, you're a stupid idiot for being Catholic." I am stating MY beliefs.

See, that's what freedom is--it's about letting other people live their lives without being dicks to them over petty bullshit. Yes, I'm fat. Yes, I'm choosing to stay that way instead of dieting. So what? You might drink, do drugs, eat meat, go skydiving, and do all kinds of other things that may OR MAY NOT be damaging to yourselves--and that's your decision. I'm not telling you to stop doing them, even if your choices (OH MY GOD) increase health insurance costs. It's called life. We're living it in different ways, and we enjoy doing different things.

In other words, my asking for some fucking tolerance is not the same as indicting you for living your life differently. It's just asking that I not be called nasty names, told I'm "too fat" to have a job I can perform perfectly fine at any size/go out in public/wear shorts/eat a cookie/spend time doing something other than running laps/get laid, or otherwise treated like shit. Did I call you a skinny bitch? Did I tell you to go eat a sandwich? Did I tell you you're too thin to be of any value to society? Of course I didn't, because I acknowledge that people of all sizes are valuable. And that your size is not necessarily dependent upon your dietary habits--naturally thin people have just as hard a time putting on weight as naturally fat people do losing it. And, even if it is, it's none of my business what you eat, how much you exercise, or what size clothing you wear because it just isn't.

So, you are free to think that I'm unhealthy because I'm fat. But if you think that it makes me inferior as a person because I don't make it my priority to mold myself into your idea of what is healthy, then I don't know what to tell you besides you do your thing, I'll do mine, and if you happen to be right, you can say "I told you so" to my headstone, and you can feel like you are super awesome. Okay?

I guess I need to get my head out of the trough of Big Macs

So, you could have your paycheck docked if you're fat.

I actually would LOVE to have someone follow me around for a week and see how I actually eat. Hint: It doesn't involve McDonald's, a gallon of ice cream per day, or mountains of chocolate bars. :P

Breakfast today: a 6-oz container of yogurt

Lunch today: about 5 oz. of "Gimme Lean" brand vegetarian sausage, cut into pieces and sauteed in about a half tablespoon of olive oil

Dinner tonight: Mini pizzas made of English muffins, Boboli sauce, and a little bit of aged provolone. I'll probably have two, each of which is half a muffin with toppings. And I might have a scoop of ice cream for dessert because I LIKE IT. I usually make some vegetarian dish with fresh vegetables and eat that with rice, but I am low on fresh stuff right now (Saturday morning necessity: The Farmers Market).

At some point, I'll have a snack of grapes, a plum, or whatever kind of fruit is lurking in the fridge (Brian went to the store yesterday, so maybe we have PEACHES!)

This is fairly normal to me; I sometimes am not feeling well enough to eat breakfast, and sometimes not even lunch.

I AM SUCH A PIG!

Edited to add: I just realized that the headline was "being unhealthy* could cost you money"--NOT "being fat". Oh, the powers of assumption.

*emphasis mine

Edit #2:
Edited to add: If they truly believed in weight-loss as a health issue, and they really believed that it could be accomplished with traditional methods, then the docked pay would be made available to the employee if they applied it toward weight-loss (gym membership, Weight Watchers membership, doctor bills, medication). Since they're not doing this, it really and truly looks like a money grab to me.

Cramp :(

This morning, I was taking volunteers for either killing me or cutting off my leg.

I had a BIZARRE dream last night that consisted of Nick, Doug, Dave, Jason, and some other guys from my fisheries classes and I on a boat on the Mississippi. I was supposed to take a turn as pilot, but my leg had seized up in a cramp from ankle to hip, so Nick stepped in and took my place (he was always a helpful person like that).

When I woke up, the cramp was real. Brian tried to massage it out, but it honestly just was too tight. As I limped around on it, I realized that it was actually up to my lower back and down to my entire FOOT. So I used what Brian calls "The Jackhammer", which is the powerful massager thingy that has been my saving grace for quite a while:

Amazon has it for thirty bucks, but I think we picked it up cheaper in a store somewhere. I've bought a lot of crappy massagers that were pretty much useless, but this was one of the best purchases I've ever made.

I dug that sucker into the key areas, mainly the tendons of the tenaciously tight muscles, and I had to work for a good 20 minutes. I've gotten the worst of it worked out, and hopefully that will talk the rest into letting go.

One thing that the jackhammer does that helps me out immensely is loosening up lower back muscles. I have Brian use it around my coccyx, then I wiggle my hips a bit, and there's a satisfying little "pop" that is followed by nearly instant relief. I had to figure out a way to do that on myself this morning, because my dearest was getting ready for work. So I set it on the bed, lay on my side, and leaned back onto it. That worked! I also used the same tactic for my calf, which was the tightest, crampiest muscle of the bunch. Hopefully as the day goes on, and I do some stretching, I will work the rest out.

I think yesterday's extremely busy day (I had the weirdest job interview of my life, and I had to run a ton of errands) somehow overloaded that leg, which has been a bit sore lately anyway. The ankle's been a bit inflamed, and if that gets too tight, it just cascades all the way up to my lower back. Meh.

What really sucks for me when I get these muscle cramps is that muscle relaxers don't work for me. I have tried every brand, and they don't even make me drowsy. It's like taking a sugar pill. A lot of medications are like that on me; they either have no effect, or they have an opposite effect. Benadryl doesn't make me tired, but at least it has the antihistamine effect. Valium doesn't seem to do anything. Hydrocodone acts as a stimulant. I don't get this effect with every drug, but it can be frustrating when trying out something new.