A Hormonal Tilt a Whirl…

There are so many things that could be affecting my mood right now. The medication adjustments (albeit minor ones), the season’s change, “normal” hormonal fluctuations, and so on. What I do know is that my anxiety and depression are not playing together well. Or, more realistically, they’re playing together too well. Anxiety’s screaming, “OMG we’re all going to die!!!” and depression replies with, “Great idea. If we get some momentum going, we could jump the railing before cowardice steps in.”

I’m not going to jump. I’ve got too many friends and family who would miss me plus Blackie and Lara would never understand why I didn’t return. I couldn’t do that to them. People talk about cats being aloof, Blackie and Lara are anything but aloof. And they love me dearly.

I hate this feeling. Everything seems scary but I have no idea why and, at the same time, I don’t really care. Part of me is craving sleep while the rest is dreading it. Last night I drempt I was standing beside a river, watching body parts floating by. The only good thing my mind could come up with was at least they weren’t climbing out of the river after me. I don’t remember what else happened but I was up for an hour afterwards.

And I try to make bedtime comfortable. Calm pillow spray with chamomile, rose, and white tea. My big squishy stuffed carrot. Soothing bedtime music. And my heart still pounds.

It’s not much better when I’m awake. I struggle to get anywhere, breaking each trip into pieces and only focusing on one piece at a time. Sometimes that works, other times it doesn’t. Then I just make do without whatever I was going to get. Going with someone helps… except my someone is Colin which means a monologue on how the conservatives are better and how hard done by men are. I’m hoping this is a phase he’ll grow out of but am losing hope on that one.

And today is the 80th day until I move. It feels like it’s so far away but I have to give notice at the end of this month and then I’m into the final crunch. Another huge chunk of anxiety to deal with.

I’m struggling with posting this. Half of me says that no one wants to hear me whine while the other says there are people who need to know they’re not alone. I can deal with people thinking I’m boring. It’s the people who feel alone that matter to me.

For those of you who feel you’re alone and drowning in pain. There are people out there. They might be hard to find but they are there. You can do it! I believe in you!

keep fighting

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National Coming Out Day…

Guess what day it is? No, sadly, it’s not Free Pizza for Everyone Day. You can put down the pizza cutter. Instead it’s National Coming Out Day! It’s a holiday, albeit one with no food, that was started by the Human Rights Campaign thirty-one years ago. I’ve been coming out every year for four years now but there’s always new readers and the possibility (not likely) that someone might have missed my posts.

Alright, so I’m a demiromantic, panromantic asexual. That hasn’t changed since I’ve come out back in 2015, no matter what someone who’s close to me seems to think. Demiromantic means I become romantically attached only to friends. Panromantic means I’m romantically attracted to all genders. Yes, even your gender. And asexual means I have no sexual attraction to anyone. While you’re thinking “look at those blue eyes… I wish we could bump uglies” I’m thinking “look at those blue eyes, I could stare at them for ages”.

I ran into a friend today. She said “hi” enthusiastically then gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. We did the usual “How are you?” then she looked uncomfortable.

“I saw Colin at the bus stop recently and he, umm, started talking about stuff. Gender stuff.”

“You mean he said he was a girl on the inside and a man on the outside?” I asked and she nodded with visible relief.

“I didn’t know what to say,” she concluded.

“I’m sure you did fine,” I replied then she started talking about a trans aunt of hers. At first she started using he/him pronouns but I keep using she/her and soon she flipped to the female pronouns.

All the while I kept thinking of Colin. I know this lady because we were in the mental health ward of the hospital together, which means lots of time for conversation there. And she lives barely a block away so we bump into each other every once in a while. However, I think Colin’s only seen her twice and for a couple of minutes at that. It makes me wonder how many strangers are wandering around wondering who “that guy” is and why Colin was talking about being a woman.

I’ve offered to help him get a free therapist and to join, not one, but two groups dealing with gender related issues but he refused. I guess he’ll keep coming out to strangers and hope someday he comes out again to himself and those he loves.

Jeremy and I

Colin and I at the Pride Parade June 2015

It’s that time of year again…

Four years ago, I wrote a plea on Facebook for my friends to please not vote for then Conservative leader Stephen Harper. He’d already been in office for four years and had muzzled scientists, hid finances, and shut down parliament for several months to avoid dealing with a tricky question.

He lost the election to Justin Trudeau, with his innocent looking face and down to earth attitude. Justin promised clean drinking water for Native Canadians among other promises. For a while he seemed to be as he proclaimed. His first step was to balance the cabinet, making half of the members female. He was spotted consoling a grade school student on the parliament steps, helping someone in a wheelchair down subway stairs, and his most popular picture ever… dancing in a pink shirt in the Toronto Pride Parade.

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Photo by mrdhball on Instagram

Now the varnish has worn off. Nothing’s been done to fix Native water, some of which is dirt brown. He was reported thanking an Indigenous person for their donation when the question about drinking water was asked. And he’s been photographed in blackface at least three times.

Then there’s Scheer, the Conservative leader. He’s been meeting with Ford, Ontario’s PC leader, and Kenney, Alberta’s PC leader. They’re different levels of government so meetings like this just don’t happen. Well until now at least. Scheer is anti-choice and anti-LGBTQIA2S, even to the point of comparing equal marriage to dog parts. He’s promised he’s not going to touch equal marriage now but that leaves a lot of wiggle room. What about equal access to washrooms for trans people, what about trans children wanting to play on their gender’s team, or adding hair removal to transgender medical care? What about adoption and surrogacy rights for gays and lesbians?

Scheer scares me and I don’t fully know why beyond what I’ve written. I think he would be worse for Canada than his predecessor Harper and way worse than Trudeau.

We have a third party in Canada, the New Democratic Party aka the NDP. It never gets voted in (other than occasionally by province) because they don’t have enough experience. I think it’s time to give them that experience. A friend of mine said that Jagmeet Singh was boring. Boring is great. We need a leader who’s not making an ass of himself. We need a leader who’s ready to settle down and work. And we need a leader who’s willing to tackle tough issues, like the aforementioned Native water crisis:

NDP Leader Rips Reporter for Questioning Cost of Fixing Indigenous Communities Undrinkable Water

I know where to vote and who to vote for. The 21st is coming quickly. Are you ready?

Definitely not what I expected…

I bought myself six packages of dark chocolate peanut butter cups, figuring I could space them out for a month. I also bought a carton of vegan Haagen Daz peanut butter and chocolate ice cream and a bag of dill pickle flavoured kettle chips. I’d hoped they’d last the full month. They lasted one day. This has been going on for a while and just keeps getting worse. I’ve gained weight and am worried about not fitting my regular clothes. I don’t have the wardrobe money to reclothe myself, even if it’s all from Value Village.

I talked to my psychiatrist about my worries about binging and he suggested a dietician. So I made an appointment with one. We sat down and talked about what I eat and the general proportions. This was tough because I don’t tend to think about what I’m eating and because I have a foggy memory.

She listened to me and immediately told me the problem. I’m not eating enough, which seemed odd because I’m routinely turning into a human garburator but she explained. I’m not eating enough during my meals so when my body discovers high carb, high fat foods it immediately jumps on them. And, I must admit, I’ve been missing a few meals too simply because I wasn’t hungry. That can’t help. So now to work on having healthy meals, even when I’m exhausted or not hungry. This will be so much easier when I move and have the freezer space to store prepared meals. I used to make stews, chilis, and spaghetti sauce to freeze but I can barely fit a Haagen Daz container in there now.

Then I went to my Wellness Group where we’re doing a 5 part series on intuitive eating. I was reading through the pamphlet and came across this paragraph. This is so me.

note-from-carea

Now that I know what’s going on with me. I need to figure out how to go about changing most of my diet and especially how to keep up with my healthy meals when I’m too depressed to cook. Hopefully, by the time I move, I’ll have positive steps in place to support my eating habits.

And I’m off to figure out what to have for lunch.

Don’t worry…

It was late winter of 2012 and I was looking for an apartment for Colin and I. I had my eye on one the next town over. It had an indoor pool, which made me fall in love with it, and it was close to everything. They had two units available, one on the 11th floor and one on the 7th. The 11th floor was meh. The previous tenants had done a midnight move and left a lot of stuff behind. My Dad and I entertained ourselves by finding what they’d forgot, from the clock on the wall to the Christmas tree in the closet. Then we saw the 7th floor apartment and it. was. perfect! Two balconies, tonnes of storage, and there even was a pantry/storage area big enough for its own light.

The downside was we were at the end of the month and the office needed to decide who to choose. I told her I had to give my 60 days notice on the first. She told me there was nothing she could do. So I walked to the office of my then current building and told the woman my concerns. She looked at me from across the desk and said, “Kathleen, you’ve been a good client here for years. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve given me your notice. Your word is good enough for me.

And that was that… at least for five months. That was when my parents got a letter for me from CapReit stating I owed them $465 in arrears for not giving notice until the 8th of March. So much for my word being good enough.

And here we are again. I’ve got an apartment I’ve been waiting (and waiting) to move into. Now I’ve been told twice that the apartment will be ready for January 1st. But the official website still reads December 1st. Everyone says “don’t worry” but not everyone has needed to pay almost $500 due to a conflict with their moving schedule.

I’m counting down to January now and am resigned to the fact that Christmas is going to be full of boxes and not decorations. And all I can do is hope they’re right and I’m not walking into a big financial mess.

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Tiny homes…

I’ve never been a fan of tiny houses. Don’t get me wrong, I love to go through the pictures and marvel at how they managed to cram so much into such a small space, especially while keeping it looking clean and relatively spacious. But I’ve never wanted to live in one.

Apartment layoutBack in February I desperately wanted to figure out the layout for my new apartment, I didn’t want to move in blind. Except they didn’t have a layout, just a floor plan. No problem, I copied the floor plan into my photo editing program then drew lines over every blurry line in one apartment and, voila, I had a layout. I had no idea how accurate it was but at least it gave me some idea.

Last week I was told there would be a viewing in a nearby apartment building which was made by the same company as ours. The apartment was apparently identical to the one I’d be moving into. I was so excited, finally I could know what my apartment will look like and get an idea of where I can put my furniture. I could hardly wait.

Monday finally arrived and my Dad, Colin, and I arrived at the building. The lady doing the tour commented that the unit we were viewing was accessible so it wouldn’t look like mine. I’d just get a general idea of the size. So I’m still moving in completely unknowing what to expect.

My first thought when I walked through the door was “Where did they put the rest of the living room?” It was that small. I’d originally planned on putting my couch and hutch on the same wall (the one beside the stove in the layout) but the main wall was too small to fit both, it was barely big enough to fit a couch. The little cubby was there, same as the layout, but it turned out to hold the heating and air conditioning units and is not to be opened. The plus side is I’ll have total control over my own heating.

The kitchen was nothing like the one in the floor plan. It was bigger in some ways and smaller than others. There was more cabinets than I’d expected but the cutlery drawers were a third of the size. The previous tenant had their cutlery tray on the counter and the top drawer contained tinfoil and saran wrap… that was all it could hold. Now I can’t help wondering about mine.

And to make moving just that bit more interesting, they’re negotiating a new date, somewhere from mid-December to early January. So I’m thinking this is going to be a New Year’s move. If I’m up at midnight this year it’ll involve lots of tears and packing tape.

As for now, I’m jettisoning some furniture and getting ready for my own tiny home.

 

Am I binging?

20190914_164447The first one slid down so smoothly and easily, an intoxicating balance of peanut butter and dark chocolate. The second one was almost as good. I lost count as I continued to eat. Taste and enjoyment faded away behind the urge to eat just one more… and another… and another… I couldn’t stop. I’d been planning on having two peanut butter cups a day but I ended up with twelve treats in under ten minutes. Why had I done it again? My mind continued to berate me. I was lazy… lacked self control… fat… ugly… I would never eat healthy… I’m the ugly sister in the family and this overeating just proved it. Obviously I was weak. Who couldn’t stop eating? I just needed to put the food down. It was that simple.

But it wasn’t that simple. Time after time I’d eaten a whole carton of Haagen Daz, a whole bag of chips, a huge bowl of spaghetti, a sleeve of cookies (and maybe one more). I’d eat until my stomach stretched uncomfortably and it felt like my food was kicking the valve to my esophagus.

And I have to stop.

This won’t be easy. I have to stop worrying about dieting and my weight because they seem to cycle into this eating. And I’m going to have to ignore some pretty strong cravings for just about anything unhealthy. Funny how I never crave an orange. Maybe that will change.

I see my psychiatrist this week, which is good. Even though I feel like I have binge eating, he’s the one that went to school for this.

If you struggle with binge eating, could you please share any tips on what made the cravings better? Thank you so much!