Ok… quick note.. I DO have a post-wedding recap coming, but want to wait until our professional pictures are in, and all the guests pics are in, so I can add some to the post.. but it IS coming, I swear… Hell, I’ll even pinky promise! I just didn’t want to annoy people with too much “OMG I’m so happy look at me being happy this is a wedding and yay” posts
Alrighty, time to get on with today’s post then shall we?
My brain has gone and broken itself again… The struggle is real y’all, and it’s annoying me to know end. *insert loud grumbles here*
Here’s the scoop… Once the wedding was done, I had a moment of “what now?”, I’d spent months, if not years working on my wedding, planning every last detail, every moment, choreographed everything in my head, time lines, seating charts, invitations, guest lists, venues, flowers, favours…. you get the drift. It took up so much of my life, which is something I did not expect to happen as my plan was “Small, intimate, no fuss no muss, kinda quirky… but let’s keep it simple y’all”, but then the questions started from vendors and friends and family and the “what about this” options kept popping up, and even though it WAS a simple, small, intimate wedding, there was still SOOOO much more to plan that I never thought of previously… So every lunch hour (and yes I mean every one of them), nights after work, late nights in bed, were spent either on Pinterest or Google trying to find something that matched this impossible dream I had in my head, find visual cues to help people understand what my words could not convey, contact vendors or bridesmaids/groomsmen to try and coordinate days of much needed help… It never stopped, every night I would swear to myself “Tonight Shannon… Tonight you will go to bed early, you will NOT message anyone, or look at anything or think of a new idea.. you will close your eyes and go the fuck to sleep”… and Every. Single. Night. something would pop up, or someone would contact me, or a response I was waiting for would come in, and every single night I was up until 11 or midnight… or later… working on this one day. It became my whole world, it became who I was. I had no time for focusing on myself or my health.. I had a freaking wedding to plan! <-- my brain on wedding planning. The car accident destroyed my timeline and made everything a frantic rush... it took a full month before I was "recovered" (at least physically).. and I'm STILL not recovered mentally.. I have flashbacks daily, it is torture... but I still would have been OK, wedding wise, if it was just the accident... except Mike and I became SUPER sick the week leading up to our wedding.. SO months and years of planning, and most of my epic ideas got scrapped last min because I was too sick to complete anything. BUT this isn't a wedding post, and I promise I'll revisit this train of thought and explain more in the wedding post. Sufficed to say, between the car accident, and the plague, and a million things in between... I was a frantic mess right up until the night before when my brain finally switched to "I literally have no more fucks to give, let's just do this thing". Which leads me to now. I no longer have all those things to do, or plan... and honestly I was burnt out, still am... Probably needed a full month or two of pure vacation to actually recharge my batteries, but I couldn't afford that much time off work, I already felt terrible taking two weeks off in a row. So here I am, still burnt out and not wanting to leave the house at all.. except I do, every day.. and every weekend there are still plans... I'm frazzled and wanting to hermit, but trying to fight against it so I don't become agoraphobic. I'm afraid to drive, and so I force myself to do it.. I'm not comfortable around people, so I'm constantly around people... Don't forget, I'm also still very much un-medicated since I haven't been able to see my doctor since before the accident, all attempts I have made to see him, or switch to another doctor, or anything, have been rejected by his receptionist before I can even plead my case. My only option, according to them, is to either take a day off work and wait for 5 hours in their ridiculous walk in clinic... which she assured me still means there is no guarantee that he'll see me.... OR leave work early, and again wait for hours only to have no clue if I'll actually make the cut before the clinic closes. AND I have to see him, because all other walk in clinics, or doctors at his clinic, cannot prescribe narcotics or any other type of medication that I would need in order to help with my anxiety... so yeah... I'm not a happy camper and very much wanting to throw rocks at the whole world right now. But this STILL doesn't address the title of my post... which I really should address at some point otherwise none of this makes sense, and that simply won't do. So here it goes... My damn brain is broken (which yes we already knew... but this is a NEW kind of broken that has only started very recently). SO... After the wedding I had a void to fill. Sure I could fill it with mindless TV watching and lots of sleep, but what good is that to me in the long run? I decided to put the same amount of effort (well maybe not the SAME amount, since I don't plan on staying up till 1AM when I need to be awake at 5AM) into this new thing, as I did wedding planning... I want to be healthy. Which does mean losing weight (hopefully), which I fully realize is next to impossible for me thanks to genetics and the fact that since Optifast my metabolism has slowed down even further. I am basically a walking, talking, fat making machine right now... Couple that with the fact that during wedding planning, especially leading up to the wedding, or well really since the accident since that's when it all seemed to start... I couldn't give two shits about being healthy.. I had goals and eating well, sleeping well, and drinking water fell right off of my list of things to do, because I have never been very important to myself. SO I decided, in my brain noodle, to focus on ME for a change... which does mean I may talk less, or only talk if you msg me first, and it will mean that I am going to be focusing more on my art (which helps me de-stress and deal with life), and my health, and my hobbies... I need to put myself *and my husband AHHH still get excited to say that* first. This sounds fantastic doesn't it? Except here is where my brain broke... I think deep down, I'm just terrified to not be a fat blob of crap anymore. When I'm skinny I look A LOT better than I do right now... not that I'm trying to too my own horn or come off as all "I'm hella hot under this fat"... I just don't look like a fat blob with a pendulous stomach when I am skinny.. and still remember the glorious days when my stomach was flat and I was curvy, not fat... but with that body came attention from people who were not my hubby, or whoever was my current bf at the time.. It came with date rape, or creepy guys following me on the street, or getting hollered at while walking to the store.. or the one time a guy got on my bus from Rideau st and tried the whole way back to Aylmer to talk to me and get a date... only to get mad at me when I got off the bus and still hadn't agreed to a date.. he then started yelling that this wasn't even his bus, he came all the way from downtown just to be with me and how dare I not give him a chance (I had never seen this person before in my life!).. It came with me giving up friends because they would preposition me behind their gf/wife's back... One guy even tried to convince me his wife was cool with it as long as it was me he was fucking (his words) and not someone else... Hell I had someone preposition me DAYS before my wedding... granted he hadn't seen me in years and probably has no idea how ugly I am right now.. but STILL.. WTH man!?!?!? It made me feel slimy and gross and like the lowest form of crap in the world... it made me feel like he thought I was a cheap whore. Someone I was friends with, who I'd lost touch with, contacted me just to fuck me... and thought that would make me happy. I will never understand humans. And YES I am open to talking about sex, because sex is natural people...... but that doesn't mean that I want to fuck everyone in my life, and it doesn't mean that I am OK with other people trying to fuck my husband. So yeah, even as a fat blob, who's body should never be seen by human eyes... I'm still having to fend of creeps. Which leads me to now, and my promise to be healthy... I will admit, for months now we've been eating like crap. It was done unconsciously, and it is only now, in hindsight, that I am even seeing it. I stopped caring about all the things I learned from my nutritionist and doctors... I was just in day to day survival mode. Have to do this, this and this to make it through the day. Food wasn't even on my radar. If it was fast, and tasted delicious, that is what was for supper. I've started a cookbook of all healthy recipes. I'm going to be healthy FFS... I may still be fat, because I am genetically predisposed to be fat, but I will not live my life starving myself to maintain a thinner body... being skinny and miserable and starving isn't my ideal life. But yes... I'm wanting to be healthy, and put into practice all of the skills I have in order to achieve this goal... but guess what.. turns out my broken brain is like WTF you doing girl? Let's not do this mkay? Last night I made a "healthy chilli", it smells amazing, is mostly vegetables, I added some meat just so it wouldn't be such a huge leap for my first go around, from the norm...it has couscous (which I have never cooked before) and looks amazing this morning once it was done cooking down... but the thought of eating it is making me nauseous. I look at it and part of me wants to eat it because this looks and smells amazing... and the other part of me finds it revolting and wants nothing to do with it. I currently have a roast beef sandwich sitting in front of me... it's loaded with lettuce, no cheese or mayo, and mustard.. It smells fantastic.. but haven't touched it yet because every time I go to take a bite I want to puke. However, junk food does nothing. Smells the same way it always smells, tastes the same way it always tastes... I'm sick of eating it, and don't really want to eat it... but it doesn't make me want to gag. See... Broken brain. Don't be Shannon. My brain is not a place anyone should have to deal with. I'm about to go choke down my sandwich because I will win this battle of wills with my own brain..... but I am afraid that this determination won't last long. How long can I fight against a gag reflex... I can't TRICK myself into eating healthy, because I'm an adult that cooks her own food.. so I know what's going into it LOL... and I WANT to eat it.. bring on the veg man I love me some veggies... I'm actually tired of nachos and pizza... I don't want to eat it... but at least it tastes good and goes down without a fight. I'm afraid that my willpower will be worn down by my brain's inability to stop being a giant dick. I also relapsed a bit and had a mini binge (caught myself part way through and stopped, so it's really more of an "I ate too much" rather than a binge, which is where I lose all control and can't stop even when I'm puking full) because I was cooking healthily. Just COOKING... I had had Nachos for supper because it was going to take 6 hours for the chilli to cook and so BAM nacho time.. I knew by cooking it, I would have to eat it... and that triggered me wanting to run into the waiting arms of junk food. I had already had supper.. I wasn't hungry.. there is no reason I should have put anything into my mouth, except I couldn't stop my feet from going into the kitchen and I couldn't stop myself from making food, and I was mid way through before I realized what was happening and snapped myself out of it. For now I fight. This damn delicious and healthy sandwich is going to go into my mouth.. I am going to chew.. and I am going to swallow, because I am an adult and it is time to adult the fuck out of this sandwich. SO I will keep fighting. Healthy food will go in my mouth. Once I tackle this part of the plan... I want to start swimming... but don't tell my brain that because it's been fighting me on this for about a year now. I love swimming more than most things in life... but the thought of being seen in a bathing suit in PUBLIC, is enough to have me curled into a ball on the couch under a mountain of blankets. I wish I was rich and could get one of those indoor pools, just a long track for swimming laps... that would be pure heaven lol. To swim in private where no one could see me.. I'd freaking live in my pool. OK this is a post and a half at this point so I'm going to cut this off abruptly like a BOSS. Everyone keep your fingers toes and eyeballs crossed that my brain let's up and finds something else to fixate on... preferably something much more pleasant. Perhaps it can be turned into a drive to get over my fear of launching my own home business to sell my art. I kinda sorta started.. but to do things legit would mean getting a licence or something, setting up a store, paying taxes, having to promote myself and my business, actually have time to work on my stock, pump out product.... That's a lot of things that all terrify me... mainly the prospect of legal issues or people suing or owing a bucketful of taxes when I can already barely keep my head above water as it is LOL. What I need is a person who does the business things and just says "Boss lady, we need 200 pokeballs STAT, here is the price point... and GO!" then BLAMO I have a task, I complete said task, and the rest is taken care of so I don't panic. Bah, here I am rambling again. OK I'm hitting send. Hug tackles and goodnight (even though it is day... Good Day.. or Good Afternoon... Maybe I should just say Good ___________)