How many days I’ve had where I wasn’t really hungry in the evening. I think this has to do with anxiety and stress (depression alone makes me eat.) You know how I lost 2.6 pounds between two Wednesdays ago and this last Wednesday? Well, I dropped another pound between last Wednesday and today, according to the scale in Dr. E’s office. Yeah, not healthy.
Anyway, Dr. E has upped my Trileptal (anticonvulsant/mood stabilizer) to 900mg/day. She persuaded me to talk to D about cancelling or at least scaling waaaay back on the diabetes class, and I’m going to write the “I’m not coming to the next few sessions” email after I finish this post.
So, tomorrow is another day, and I need to make myself eat. Thinking about making myself eat actually helps me get hungry (I’m clearly not as anxious as I was, say, the first week of the partial program.) But I’m only going to eat a little bit, to avoid freaking my stomach out. And I’m going to bed. After I email the diabetes health coach. Whee.
The newest pill system? It radically diminishes the fishy smell and taste of the Metformin. I am not even kidding. I keep being worried I didn’t include it in the box, even though my box-packing system involves opening a bottle, taking pills out, adding them to the box, then moving the bottle to a separate area so I’m sure I already included them. It’s ADHD-proof.
I have no idea why this is. The intense orange smell of the vitamin C tabs also gets reduced, but not so much that I don’t notice the taste/smell when swallowing them. The Metformin is making as much of a sensory impact as the Trileptal and the Lexapro - I have taken to counting the number of white pills before starting the swallowing, just to reassure myself.
I put them in the pill organizer - the one I took a photo of the other day - divided into two groups, the morning and evening set.
Then, when I remember, I dump out the set for the half of the day in question, and I swallow what comes out, one right after the other, until they’ve all disappeared.
The reason I do this is because otherwise I have to have all the pill bottles lined up in an exact order, or in specific spots in my backpack, and VERY CAREFULLY take the pills in that exact order. If I go out of order, or if a pill bottle changes shape because I got it filled at a different pharmacy, or whatever? TOTAL CHAOS ENSUES.
This way I can fill the pill organizer at my peak alertness level, after I’ve already taken my pills and probably have already eaten, and then just carry the darned thing with me.
This is my fourth attempt to use a pill organizer. All the previous ones have failed, usually because I got way too technical about when to take what. There’s actually a lot of leeway in when, exactly, I’m supposed to take things - like, my “morning” Metformin can be taken anytime from when I wake up till 2pm, though the earlier the better.
So we’ll see if this system works. I hope it does, because the pill thing really stresses me out. I HATE being non-compliant, but I often risk it because I lose track of things. Like, I just took my evening pills, right before writing this, and if the CIA were here with electrodes I still wouldn’t be able to say for sure that I’d actually taken all the drugs I was supposed to. I CAN say I filled the box when I was doing OKish psychologically, and that I swallowed everything in the PM side of the box. So.
When weighed in the balance, as incredible as it seems at first glance, the only consistent explanation for the success of this Church, and for the lives of the witnesses and most especially for the unshakeable testimony of Joseph Smith despite all the forces arrayed against him is, that the Book of Mormon is true. Every other explanation seems to wither with the test of time or persecution. No other explanation can account for the rise of this Church out of total obscurity to what it is today.
For probably 99% of you that would be a terrible thing to admit.
To me this means I am FOUR POUNDS from having lost 10% of my body weight since the start of the year. I am closing in on the BMI 30s and class II obesity. I can safely buy plastic Adirondack chairs designed to hold “up to 250 lbs.”
So, basically, what I’m saying is, HECK YEAH ME.
(Still depressed, still having a hard time coping with life. Faxed my psychiatrist at the very end of the day; we’ll see if she replies. Existence is hard. But I think I may weigh less now than I did at any point in 2011, and that is pretty cool, and I fully intend to enjoy that to the fullest extent of my capacity to enjoy things - though the festivities will probably be delayed until I have the energy to follow through on that intent.)
Depending upon the mission and culture of the people, a missionary is expected to follow these additional rules:
1. Missionaries are asked to write to their parents once a week.
2. Missionaries should not call their families or friends except when the mission president gives them permission.
3. Missionaries give their mission president a weekly report and letter.
4. Missionaries should not get into debt. They should use their money wisely and for things relating to their mission.
5. Missionaries should not stay longer than an hour when they are invited to dinner, and they should use the time to motivate members in their missionary efforts.
6. Missionaries are never to be alone with anyone of the opposite sex or have inappropriate associations with those of the opposite sex. They should not teach single members of the opposite sex unless an adult chaperon is present.
7. Missionaries should not write to people who live in the mission boundaries.
8. Missionaries are not to go outside their assigned areas without permission from the mission president.
9. Missionaries must behave with dignity and keep their conversations free of debate and argument. They should read only literature authorized by the mission president. (See Missionary Handbook.)
Okay, I need to teach Chrome not to try and fill in this particular field
It is seriously trying to give me the option of filling in the “title” field with every title I’ve put in so far. Heh.
Anyway. Today wasn’t as good as yesterday - I stayed under on calories, but I only walked about 1400 steps, and I didn’t really take care of any issues, do any churchy stuff, or, come to think of it, do much at all. Heh. I DID get my two new pill-sorters filled for tomorrow, so I can (HOPEFULLY) remember to take my pills in the morning and right when I eat dinner instead of at wacky not-right times. And, I did wash out my CPAP equipment (which is good, because I didn’t do it last week, and you’re supposed to do it weekly.)
But I did various Sabbath-breaking things and didn’t study the scriptures and so on and so forth.
I can say with some satisfaction that I helped out a few people with mental health issues today, though. I wasn’t a total slug. Just… you know, a work in progress. Ah, well. There’s always tomorrow. And no mistakes have been made tomorrow, yet.
And here’s the deal: for now, because I am fragile (that is, it is a royal pain finding drugs that will work that don’t cause awful side effects or make me hypomanic,) the only thing we’re changing is to add a dose of Deplin each day (hey, and at the regular full-strength dose, a first for me.) I have hope it will be helpful, though not a ton of hope, because I still feel like crap. I was almost brought to tears asking for my next appointment plus “yes, I went to the doctor” note for work, from the front desk. Why was I near tears? Because I was existing at that moment. Depression sucks. Look at it, it made me swear just now. Argh.
My psychiatrist was like “what’s wrong, you seem distracted” when I had said a grand total of one line to her: “I’m okay, how are you?”
She’s put me on a folate prescription. We’ll see; she thinks all the stuff I’ve been up to (CPAP, diabetes class, DBT, transitioning at work, trying to be assertive, significant dietary changes, etc.) may have overwhelmed my brain and body.
I think the universe may have been offended by me live-blogging the whole tornado warning thing, because five minutes after my… seventh? Eighth? Something like that, anyway. After many obnoxious and self-indulgent spammy posts, the warning was lifted a full ten minutes before its original expiration time!
As soon as it stops raining I’ll go outside and see if my car is in one piece. :)
I think I need to talk with my psychiatrist, Dr. E, about my anti-depressant. This could very well be something else, because a lot of things have been happening lately, but a week of noticeably down emotions (including tons of self-recrimination, brooding, etc.) more or less regardless of what’s happening around me, after many weeks of feeling sleepy and having a hard time getting myself to do things, plus that sticky bipolar II diagnosis, more or less means “it’s time to talk with Dr. E.”
The Genesis Group was established in October 1971 by the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a dependent branch to serve the needs of African-American Latter-day Saints. Following the priesthood revelation in 1978, The Genesis Group continues to host firesides and other activities to support and edify all Latter-day Saints, their families and friends, and individuals interested in the Church. The Genesis Group also provides assistance to mission presidents, stake presidents, and bishops. The Genesis Group operates under the direction of Elder Stephen B. Allen, managing director of the Missionary Department for the Church and a member of the Fifth Quorum of the Seventy. For more information on Elder Allen, click here.
The Genesis Group meets on the first Sunday of each month from 7:00 to 8:30 p.m. at the meetinghouse located at 6710 South 1300 East in Salt Lake City, Utah. Everyone is welcome to attend. The monthly meetings feature a fireside format with guest speakers, a Black gospel song as a practice hymn, and testimonies. The organization operates with Relief Society, Singles, Youth, and Primary auxiliaries.
Genesis is not a substitute for ward activities, but is a support to members of the Church and to those interested in the Church.
We need short responses (from youth ages 12-18 only) that may be published in an upcoming issue of the New Era. Being worthy to enter the temple is a constant blessing! Let us know what you are doing today to prepare yourself for temple blessings.
Use the Scripture Mastery MP3s. Play them between songs (use shuffle, it’s much more pleasant) and in a few weeks, you will so, totally, have them memorized without even trying. Just like you memorized the lyrics to the Macarena, only less awful.
So, I am the caretaker of my mom's wedding photos right now.
Only from the weddings that officially started up marriages that didn’t last. :) I’m going to be scanning them, doing an EPIC TON of color correcting, sharpening, etc., and uploading them to Facebook.
However, I need to get a real color scanner to do it. My stepdad bought a photo-only scanner, the Ion Pics 2 SD. But it won’t let me scan the entire photo! I lose about three millimeters on each side of each photo, because it’s a cartridge design, rather than flatbed. Sigh.
Anyway, sometime soon all my Facebook friends will be basking in the glow of 1970s and 1980s fashion. Wedding fashion. Did you know that floppy hats were really, really, really, really, really REALLY popular in the 1970s?
Thanks! I kind of already know that… it’s just that it’s the intellectual sort of knowing, where you can be all reciting it over and over and over whenever you please, but it’s not actually in your heart (yet.)
I definitely struggle with the whole “health/weight/appearance = self worth” thing. I shouldn’t. I know it’s not healthy, that it’s not in keeping with what we know from the scriptures, that it’s not particularly logical even on its face. I have in the past ruthlessly suppressed those feelings, mostly because it was obvious they weren’t doing me any good.
I find the fact that I have lost weight, made a tiny bit of progress, to be a huge temptation to go pretty far down this particular road. It’s both disappointing, and a little bit expected. I’ve often thought that my major physical and psychiatric flaws were a kind of shield against the sort of pride that would seem to be so very easy if you were beautiful and well-adjusted. This was probably prideful in itself, come to think of it: “whee, I’m so screwed up, it makes me more righteous than the pretty girls!” Heh. Like that line in “Amish Paradise” - I know I’m a million times as humble as you. Neener neener. The weird part is that it’s being triggered when I’m still so massively overweight. Probably this is because I’ve never, in my life, dropped this much weight for any reason.
Anyway, it’s sort of fascinating to see how embedded these ideas really are in my head. I’ve had weight and appearance issues my whole life - I thought I was irredeemably fat the day I hit 100 pounds, and I’d been worried about my weight (never mind my face, teeth, gawky limbs, uncooperative hair, etc.,) for several years before that. This is despite my parents, especially my dad, going to tremendous lengths to try and shield me from it all. I was only allowed one Barbie, we rarely watched child-oriented TV (or really much commercial TV at all,) I never subscribed to the teen magazines, I wasn’t allowed to participate in popular culture stuff (I had no real understanding of who the New Kids on the Block were, when every girl at school would have died to meet them.) My dad forbade me from taking dance lessons, because he thought they’d promote a negative body image.
Oh, well. Just means I have to try much, much harder to fight these ideas now. :)
This means I am a Class III obese individual (there are no classifications higher than that, though some surgeons will call me merely morbidly obese as opposed to super obese, which is nice, I suppose.)
But four weeks ago, I weighed 251.4 pounds. And two and a half months ago, I weighed 262 pounds.
So I’m pretty freaking jazzed, WHO categorization and medical terms notwithstanding. I’ve lost 7% of my body weight. I ROCK.
(I get to move down into class II obesity at 232.5 pounds. I will be merely “overweight” if I get down to 174, which I haven’t weighed since… probably 9th grade. 8th grade? Something like that. On the day 6th grade ended, I was under 120 pounds, and was an inch away from my final height. Puberty was not kind. Though at the time, I thought I was horrifically fat - I decided that the day I hit 90 pounds, thank you popular culture and preteen girls in general.)
Free things you can do tonight to spread the word about something
Email your member of City Council and ask them to pass a resolution on the subject.
Email your state senator and/or representative and ask them to give a floor speech or sponsor a resolution on the subject.
Email the guy you hope wins your party’s nomination, and ask them to remember the issue in their stump speeches and policy statements.
Email the members of your state’s party nominating committee, your party’s national committee, and (if they’ve already been selected) your local delegation members, reminding them of the importance this issue is to you in the general election.
Write a letter to the editor (most newspapers now prefer them to come from a web form!) Short and sweet and to the point. Include the web address when applicable. Don’t forget the tiny local-only papers. Everyone who reads those, reads the whole darned thing.
I recommend either calling or sending mail (to a regional office, not DC) your federal Senators and Representative - letters and calls weigh more in their minds. Stamps for the three of them will cost you less than a soda from a machine, and you have the free monthly minutes to spare.
Oh, and for the brave, there’s usually a “call about whatever you want” hour on your local talk radio station. Generally before noon on Saturdays. :)
(Don’t call politicians from your work phone; it’s quite often against the rules even when a normal personal call isn’t.)
They actually use the word “disinherit” in the darned document. Right before the part where it says that things are exactly as though my mother and cousin (and presumably, all their “issue”) were already dead.
It technically happened last February, but I found out today. Basically, Grandma had room in her heart for one of her children (the one who was by then non-verbal) and none of the rest of us (including my cousin, who, like my mother, was specifically disinherited, along with any future children.)
It’s not really a surprise. It’s mostly just fuel on the “Grandma chose to be evil” fire. Sigh.
I can’t; they need me, and I can’t afford to spend the sick hours on a cold even if I do feel lousy. And boy do I feel lousy. All the literature says I should feel better today or tomorrow, because my first day of symptoms was Thursday. I hope that tomorrow (or maybe in, like, an hour) is the ticket, because this really is a bummer. Amongst other things, I’ve been too dizzy/out of it to get anything done all weekend. It’s 8:30 and… I’m going to bed. How revolting. It was a victory keeping myself from taking a nap today, after getting up at 1:30pm. Bleh.