Health Hassles

The irony in life seemingly never stops, and today was quite the test, quite the example. It was doctor time, check up time, wellness physical and all that. Last year was the slippery slope of the the thyroid drama. This year was all new challenges.

The weight thing I've accepted will just always be a struggle. While I no longer carry the self-hatred and self-loathing I once did, and I am avidly working on loving my body more mindfully, technically I am overweight. I don't feel it much, if at all, but by American body mass index standards, yes I am overweight.

So first thing in the door they stick me on that scale. I knew it was coming. I didn't enjoy the number, but it also wasn't a complete surprise. I wish I could say "yeah because all I do is eat." I wish I could say, "Too many desserts" or "too many days of skipping workouts." It's none of that.

Ironically enough, this is the most sober I've been since I was 18. Compared to this time last year I'm drinking a fraction of what I was. I went from drinking a couple nights a week to only weekends to now, two drinks once or twice a month. I went out recently and had A beer. Just one beer. Yeah I'm growing up and adulting. It's happening.

I've curbed the bread stuff too although pumpkin loaves are necessary. It's fall. Mostly though, I have no one to impress but myself. I'm not even partial to what hubby thinks. Judge not lest ye be judged, or whatever.

After that was the blood work part. The good news was my natural thyroid supplement from Amazon is doing it's job. I'm actually stoked about this. The bad news was within two new categories. Before I divulge the bad news, this isn't like "life-threatening" or "life altering" but when you're 34 you just want to hear "You're fine, maybe exercise more."

The new blood panel was too much of the bad cholesterol and not enough of the good cholesterol. Also my liver levels made mention as, we'll see what happens next year but they are "off" but better than last year. I'm not sure any of that was encouraging.

If I'm being completely honest and candid, I'm just waiting for the day I walk in and they say "cancer." Is that morbid and horrible? Sure. Is it kind of realistic anymore? Maybe. I had my appendix removed when I was 17 which has been my only surgery. I've had a sprained ankle but never anything broken. My hospital experiences with my daughter made me regret not having a home birth, especially when it comes to breastfeeding.

I'm not exactly the biggest fan of western medicine. I know it works wonders. I know there are some people who receive excellent care, but if I didn't have to go to the doctor, I doubt I ever would. I feel like they never tell you good news, but almost only bad news. Or maybe that is just me.

Mostly I feel like health stuff is mostly a hassle. Everyone has their own ideas and own experiences with it but what I have experienced in the medical fields have been mostly negative. 

So here is my ray of hope or my positive outlook in the murky midst of adulting: I'm glad I got a supplement from Amazon that doesn't break the bank that is actually helping my thyroid stay okay. I'm glad I have a cholesterol excuse to force my husband to make me more salmon and halibut and such. My liver? Well, I'm not drinking  much so suck it up buttercup.

I work out often. I'm mindful about what I eat. I'm not going to let some number on a scale and some blood work translator scare me into wasting my life away missing out on a great pumpkin beer, or go low carb. Bread is life. Even Jesus said that. I will, however, stay aware.

My body tells me a lot. My body can tell when things are off and I'm going to "stay woke" as the cool kids say. In this world with health advances and opportunities, I plan on staying as un-medicated as possible but as present as I can with what information I'm given.

I had a moment where I thought this could negatively affect my vacation and I just thought, no thanks. If ever there were a reason to eat and enjoy what I like, this would be it. I haven't binged on potato chips for a good car ride in ages. There will be full breakfasts each morning. While I'm glad I'm "in the know" about my body, part of my loving that body and loving myself, is to live my life to the fullest, which goes for my stomach too. After all, there are pumpkin coffees, pumpkin loaves and wedding catering at stake! Did you say steak?!?

When Your Lot In Life Is To Play "That Bitch"

There's an amazing monologue in the movie "Mean Girls" where Tina Fey starts talking about this "Burn book," where all of the girls in it are called names and she says "Well, I don't know who wrote this book, but you all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores." "Bitches" is in that same category. And yet, "Bitch" has now become slang and as women we kind of took it back as our own.

This isn't really a feminist rant thing but while I wish we could take these common words out of our vernacular and especially out of the mouths of men, I will admit that ever since I was about 12 I realized that even though "bitch" is technically a "swear" or bad word, that if you own it as a strong title of being unafraid or even brave, it seemingly loses it's negative connotation. 

My first experience being "that bitch," was facing off with my mom. I had to stand my ground and there was no room for weakness. This is something I learned with anyone with addiction or substance abuse issues as they can prey on you and attack if you cannot muster the energy to be "that bitch" in most scenarios with them. At least that way my personal experience with it.

Ironically, when you really know me, even when you first meet me, you probably wouldn't get the "bitch" vibe from me. Nor do I try and carry around with me any type of feeling of "If you cross me, you'll be sorry." Regardless, I am often cast the starring role in all productions of being "That bitch."

Sometimes this can serve well, and sometimes it really takes it's toll on me mentally.

I've learned with my mom to accept that with any situation that she disagrees with when it comes to me, it's because I'm "that bitch" in her eyes. There have been a few employers who have brought out that role in me because I'd been backed into a corner and refused to compromise myself or in some cases, my marriage, just because they wanted me to better play the role of "quiet, compliant and does what she's told with a plastic smile."

This whole secondary persona that has followed me, is often quite haunting. Being the "controlling" one, the "planner" the "arranger" and the "mess cleaner upper" aren't "fun" things to do. You win no favors or affections doing these things. Sometimes I wish I could be the person who doesn't care. I wish I could not pay bills without a care or worry. I wish I could just arrive at work late and leave early with no consideration for anyone else. I wish I could go buy what I want, when I want to, but alas, I have other responsibilities.

So wait, has responsibility and adulthood just morphed me into "that bitch?" I was violently shoved into growing up before I was ready, so did that bring me in to my "that bitch" ways? Interesting thoughts on this thoughtful Thursday.

I've said in therapy and owned it over and over that I truly believe I will just always be "that bitch" in the eyes of many close to me. I wish that I wasn't painted into that but:

  

I think what makes me sad sometimes is I feel I rarely have the chance to prove myself otherwise. When you're cast in role early you get typecast, no? Won't Elijah Wood always be Frodo and Matthew Perry will never not be Chandler Bing? Thus, just call me "that Bitch."

I'm not so sure if you screamed that name on the street I'd turn around, but there is a large part of me that owns the fact that part of me is just engraved within my core. I think the people who have known me the longest know it's under there, but have rarely awakened it. There are definitely a few things that bring it out immediately.

When I was a nanny, anyone that was about to harm the kiddos in my care, in any way, shape or form, saw me as "that bitch." I was not putting it out there that I was nice. Sometimes they had friends that I didn't like and with those friends, I was very much "that bitch." When it comes to my friends being hurt or taken advantage of, I will come out swinging if necessary and most recently you can see me do an award-winning performance when it comes to my daughter. I will be your worst enemy if you mistreat her or do anything around the realm of harming her.

There are some things I'm extremely rigid about, but in other ways I think I'm just a big softy. My recent brush with depression and anxiety just reminded me though, that in some villainizing ways, I will always be "that bitch." If it comes to a good cop bad cop thing, I will always be the bad cop.

I'm the "ruiner;" the one that squashes the fun. I'm the rule-keeper and the one with all the budgets, schedules and plans ready to enforce! Some days of this are better than others. I like to think maybe I'm kind of similar to Deadpool, that not-so-super hero comic character. He's lovable but rude, sarcastic and kind of a mess. He is well-intentioned and ultimately saves people but in a very unorthodox and unattractive way more often than not. 

While there is a part of me, and especially after my mental relapse, that wishes the obverse was true, my ability to handle all of the things, plan, create rules, goals and be "that bitch," ultimately serves everyone around me, whether they like it or not. While I know how my controlling tendencies drive my husband insane, I also keep us out of major debt and in good standing with all of the bills we pay on time.

Because of my rigidity with routines and my stick-to-itive-ness on schedules, my daughter seems to be thriving more with the new school year, even if she complains when I take things away and make her do homework and chores. 

And lastly, my being "that bitch," was the beginning of my mother's "rock bottom" that inevitably got her sober so it's hard for me to have regrets. Mostly, right now, I regret the fact that I step into that roll so well and so easily. I regret that the shoe fits, so I wear it.

I've found myself wondering if I had the opportunity to be a little more relaxed and free, who could that be? What would that even be like? For this thoughtful Thursday, while owning my lot in life as "that bitch," a girl can also dream that one day the world would soften her and make her "that fun friend," or that "sweet soul," or even that "big ol' softie." It could come with growth, with age, or just with exhaustion but maybe one day I can retire that roll and master a new one!