Weight

As of this morning I weigh 114.2lbs.

I weighed 120lbs in early July. And 134 in January (and the entire year before that).

Watching my weight trickle down (I was going to say slowly, but it isn’t really slow at all. I’ve dropped a pound a week for the past month.) is hard enough. Getting complements on looking thin is even worse. I don’t want to be losing weight. I want to be healthy. I want to be fit and strong, not thin and weak.

I mean, yes, I am not bloated and distended like I am pregnant anymore, and I am glad about that. But I want my stomach to look flat because I have good abdominal muscles, not because it’s slowly sinking into itself.

I’m tired and frustrated today. And I really wish my stomach would let me just fucking eat (or drink!) something without being in stupid pain or incredibly nauseous.

Advertisements

Chronic Illness: The Munchausen Effect

This is a fantastic post, highlighting something I have been struggling with a lot recently. Especially this past week…
Over the course of Sunday/Monday night I kept waking up and couldn’t sleep for a long time. Then, at one point, I was laying on my back with my arms crossed over my chest and started shaking uncontrollably- I was conscious during this but couldn’t voluntarily move or stop the shaking.
The shaking lasted a few seconds, stopped for a few seconds, and that repeated about 3 times total; I was able to move one leg during the break sessions but not my arms or anything else.
After that all stopped, I started having hallucinations. They started with an auditory hallucination, where when I turned my head to the right I could hear very loud music, but it stopped if I turned my head to the left. Then I had one hallucination that involved Mr.Liar waking up and saying something to me (I can’t remember much of the details on this one, but I do remember a feeling of anxiety) and I only realized it wasn’t real when I noticed the night stand wasn’t the same as what we actually have next to our bed. The last one I remember was of the dog coming into the room, barking once, and whining–all of which is very unusual for him to do; he only does it is he is feeling very sick and needs to go out immediately. I realized this wasn’t actually happening when Mr. Liar didn’t wake up/get up because he would immediately do that if the dog was really there.
Now, three days before hand my psychiatrist had started me on Wellbutrin XL, hoping it would help with my brain fog and fatigue. So my first though was that this was a drug reaction. And yet I still took my prescribed dose when I got out of bed that morning. I knew I really shouldn’t have, and when I called all my doctors to inform them of the situation they said to stop taking it immediately, but I have to admit, I was kind of hoping I would have a similar reaction at work that day… somewhere were someone else would actually see it, and immediately take me into medical facilities. Just a bit of back up to reinforce that I didn’t just imagine the whole thing, That it actually did happen…
At the same time, it was a horrible experience, and I am incredibly glad it didn’t happen again, but I have been struggling with this “Munchausen Effect” feeling all week (and honestly before that, but this week really brought it front-and-center to my attention.)

Thank you T for writing this and articulating the feeling so well.

This Little Lyme of Mine

We live in a world today where chronic illness runs amok in many of our lives. For a lot of us, getting properly diagnosed and treated is an attainable goal. But for a few of us, the diagnosis eludes doctors, or worse, we are labeled with extreme prejudice by burned out doctors, and either way a proper and effective treatment plan is out of reach. So we go from doctor to doctor, have test after test, and still we get nowhere.

You start to appreciate those few doctors who really tried to help but came up empty handed, and you resent the ones who blew you off with crude remarks like, “it’s probably just a fibro flare or CFS.” Their tone nothing short of apathy or boredom. They might as well tell you that your health, well being and immense suffering is no big deal. Once it has been suggested…

View original post 512 more words

Imposter Syndrome

In Academia there is a prevalent feeling referred to as Imposter Syndrome–the feeling that you’re a fraud, that you don’t belong. It’s a feeling that, despite any evidence to the contrary, you don’t deserve to be where you are and don’t know why others think you’re worthy or valid to be where you are. It makes you question yourself, your abilities, your worth.

And I feel like having undiagnosed health conditions is the same, in a way. An Opposite Imposter Syndrome.

It starts because I know something is wrong. But then test after test shows nothing conclusive; doctors ignore me, or throw up their hands in defeat; symptoms are not constant and leave not only doctors but me questioning their validity.  Am I experiencing these things, or simply making too much out of something normal? Am I actually sick? Is there something actually wrong?? Am I actually a hypochondriac?

Unlike Academia, where I continue to have evidence supporting my abilities, here all I have to reassure myself is that I am doing what I can to feel better… I am visiting doctors and pushing for tests because I do feel poorly and do want to be taken seriously. I have been correct twice about conditions that were hard to diagnose (endometriosis, gastroparesis). I am feeling these things, which are a departure from my normal; and once they become my normal I do almost forget about them to the point that I don’t even think to mention them to doctors anymore.

But then I still question things, like:

Do I want to feel better?
I mean, my obvious answer is I do. I do. The two years I had of endometriosis relief have been wonderful, and I am certainly not enjoying those symptoms returning in anyway. I would love for them to be gone forever. …But I don’t… I don’t know if I know how to be healthy any more. If I was to wake up tomorrow and be completely healthy, what would I do? How much of my time would I spend just waiting for symptoms to return?  Which I guess it just comes down to adjusting to changes. I’ve adjusted to these changes, I would adjust to being healthy again, and would enjoy it.

Am I sick enough to behave like I behave? Am I using being sick as an excuse or am I actually doing things according to my limitations?

…I kind of lost my train of thought here, and my brain is a jumbled mess. I guess it all comes down to: questioning yourself sucks.

Foggy? Moment

I tried to unlock the unlocked building door with my office door key when coming into work this morning… It’s going to be a long day.

Thanks cognition. Guess I won’t be getting anything done.