9/17

I had an epiphany yesterday and I feel like I should document my thoughts. This is going to sound super 'no-duh'-ish and I'm sad to say it took me twenty six years to figure this out but here it goes;

Being a 'good' woman doesn't mean that you must adhere to stereotypes. When I was a teenager I had an overbearing mother who tried to indoctrinate me on how a woman should be. I don't blame her for this; she did the best she could with me. I had bleached blonde hair, a super slim figure, and I dressed in flattering clothes for my stick skinny body type.

It took until about five years ago when I challenged myself to stop wearing makeup for the foreseeable future. It took me about a year, but eventually I became comfortable going out no matter what my face looked like. Now most days I leave the house without any makeup at all, when a decade ago you couldn't catch me dead at the grocery store without a full face.

Then came the way I dress myself. For the longest time I forced myself into form fitting clothes that looked nice, but I was horribly uncomfortable and I felt like I was in a full body sized cast. The first time I went out in one of Josh's shirts and basketball shorts was terrifying but I arrived home without even the slightest incident. From then on I was hooked on wearing tee shirts one to two sizes too large. It felt as though I could breathe and finally be comfortable for the first time in my life. Then my sister introduced me to leggings and the rest of my fashion was history.

The last thing to tackle was my hair. I've chopped my hair to a short crop five times in my life. Every time I've looked back at what I had done and realized I'd made a huge mistake; only to chop it off again two to three years later. Last January I chopped my hair off as a sort of search for control when I was deep in the bowels of depression. This did nothing for my lack of feeling.

A few months ago I chose to cut my shoulder length hair off into a short pixie cut. I told myself that it's okay to not have long flowing locks that are always curled and styled perfectly. I'm allowed to cut off my hair and enjoy it short. To feel confident with it short.

Two months ago I made the most radical decision yet; I took a pair of clippers to my head, cutting my hair all the way down to a #1 guard. It wasn't as shocking as if I had gone from waist length hair to that, but I have literally never seen my hair this short. I couldn't figure out why I felt such a strong desire to have a buzzed head until yesterday.

I was feeling jealous about all the women I saw every day who had long hair that could be pulled back, braided, curled, straightened, etc. I felt envious and couldn't help but feel vulnerable in my own femininity. That was the moment that the truth hit me like a ton of bricks. The length of my hair doesn't make me less of a woman. The style of clothes I choose to wear doesn't make me less of a woman. My deep seeded hatred of makeup doesn't change that either. I'm still a woman.

I have been thinking hard about my weight for the last week or so and I think I'm making baby steps in the right direction. If I have ten or twenty extra pounds on my body, it doesn't matter. If my brain is cooperating, if I'm doing my best as a mother, wife, and housekeeper, and I eat as healthy as I can with moderate exercise, I'm doing ten times better than I have in the last four years.

I'm going to embrace my larger body with open arms and thank God that I have a functioning brain again.

9/14

So my NP put me on a new drug that's typically used for people with schizophrenia. It's done wonders for my mental health and I feel like I've finally found the magic cocktail of drugs that helped me feel (mostly) back to normal.

However, I have been experiencing lots of hunger and near panic attack levels of anxiety the moment I realize I'm hungry. It's been a couple weeks and I can tell that I'm putting on weight. My first reaction to this was to try and clamp down on my eating so I can keep my current physique. I tried cutting back on the food and tracking it but that didn't help quell my anxiety triggered by hunger.

I used to be one of those people who would look at a fat person and think "Ew." I would constantly ask myself why they don't just get it together and lose the excess poundage. Well now I have been faced with my own reality check. I can keep taking these drugs and feel mentally well but put on a bit of weight, or I can come off the drugs, fall back into depression, and keep the body I currently have.

While I know what my healthy brain is saying (Push through the anxiety, it's just a feeling after all!) but I have some hesitations about following that. I have a whole new respect for those people who have taken medication only to be ravaged by obesity.

I was craving McDonald's this evening and on my way back, I had a realization. I've been praying and begging Heavenly Father to free me from the bounds of my own diseased mind, to let me feel better and help me to function again. But now that he's given me that, I am forced into a different set of challenges; my body getting bigger and my self esteem being challenged. I've known for my whole life that I'm pretty/attractive, and I have always had a solid self image at least about my face. But with this new trial coming my way, I need to reevaluate my set of beliefs. It dawned on me that being pretty/sexy isn't the end-all-be-all of life. I don't have to cling to my looks like a rosary and allow my ego, which was much more fragile than I thought, to take a back seat.

One of my big goals for this year was to find myself. To let myself love the things I do, to have my own independent thoughts, and to do the things I feel like I should. I shaved my head a few months back and I wear as much black as possible and that has actually felt incredibly freeing.

I think the next step in my journey is to accept myself for how my body will change in the near future. I have vowed that if I ever become so heavy that it effects my mobility in any way (or if I no longer feel pretty when being intimate with J) then I will crack down and lose a bit. But as of right now, when my mood is finally stable, I can't force myself to hold tight to a diet plan. I will do my very best to keep moving around and I'll eat healthy when I can, but I won't force myself to not eat a treat.

I'm choosing this day to be grateful to Heavenly Father for lifting the yoke of mental illness off my shoulders. He's entrusted me with this new trial because it's the next step in my mortal growth.

I feel like this will be a great opportunity to get to know Him again and to be more regular in my worship.