I’m in a truly pissy-ass mood right now, so if happy words are what you’re in the mood for today, then this entry isn’t the one to read. 

First of all, I’m pushing my schedule around as fast as I can so I won’t be dog-tired on Saturday when they come to install the new carpet. I crashed at 9am, but awoke at just 2pm and was like, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me! So I took both a Melatonin and a Benadryl like an idiot and fell back asleep about an hour later. I slept till 8pm, which is a good thing, but I woke up feeling totally hung over. Groggy as hell, I got up, made coffee, and ate, but couldn’t fully wake myself up. So I laid down and ended up napping for an hour. I’m only just now coming out of the fog. I don’t feel 100% alert and awake, but today’s goal of staying up till at least 11am should be easy enough. 

What’s got me frustrated as hell right now is how worthless my medication seems to be against this disease. IDK, maybe my expectations are unreasonable, but it just seems to me that if I’m out there working out for an hour a day AND watching what I eat, my weight should go down. Right? 

I'll wait till my next reading in June, but I have been on the meds for about 4 months now and I think I would know by now if it was going to help me or not. I am truly and honestly sick of watching myself gain nearly a pound from a cup of coffee. No one does that. No one. I feel like I'm in a no-win situation either way. If I diet and exercise I won't lose weight, and if I stop dieting and exercising I will gain weight, even if I'm still only having about 1500 calories a day. I could probably still lose if I was half-starving but I can't do that every single day. I need food to live, you know? So it has been a truly frustrating ordeal trying to get myself to accept the inevitable and all that. I'm still a good 50 pounds away from the 200-marker, but someday I will get there whether I like it or not. I just remind myself over and over that millions of people survive life with obesity. SO CAN I. The one thing I can control is how fast I get there. Dieting/running won't stop me from gaining but it will delay it. Anyway, we can't change fate and so I just gotta learn to live with it just like I have lived with being short all my life. "Embrace it, accept it, live with it, and use it to your advantage," I tell myself, should some young skinny punk decide to mess with me. I don’t know why acceptance with this one is coming so slowly to me. Perhaps I’m expecting too much too fast since I haven’t even known about it for 6 months yet. 

Another thing that’s got me frustrated – and I hate to sound selfish and insensitive – is having friendships placed on hold due to some of them having so many problems. I know they can’t help it and that it’s not their fault, but sometimes I just want to chat with them or ask their opinion on something and they’re not there. I’m not going to dump them, though, for something that’s out of their control as that would be just plain mean, so I try to look forward to the contact I get from them when they’re between problems, so to speak. Sometimes we just gotta take what time we can get from some people and hope that for their sake they won’t have so many problems someday. 

As for my own problem – I just gotta make the best of it. That’s all we can do about anything. Being big isn’t the end of the world. It could be worse, right? Like I could be blind, paralyzed or have terminal cancer. Being big is part of the disease and even the doctor herself did say that the medication wouldn’t make me lose weight. I just thought it would help me is all.