A Spoonful of Perspective Helps the Medicine Go Down

It's been a very exciting week around my neck of the woods. And before you ask the question that has been plaguing me for almost a week now, let me just get that out of the way. NO. I didn't meet him. I'm not going to meet him. I've stopped trying to meet him. Now, let's back up a step shall we.

For those of you who know me "in real life" or have been following this blog for more than a year, you are well aware of my intense admiration of a one Robert Pattinson. He's talented. He's tall. He's brooding. He's British. Oh my, swoon!

Suffice it to say that when I discovered that his latest movie, Water for Elephants, was going to be shooting scenes about 15 minutes from my house, well, my heart stopped for a moment. Could it be? Was I actually going to have the opportunity to see my crush in person? NO WAY!!

And then I started to hatch my plan. It involved guilting a couple of wonderful girlfriends into stalking the poor guy with me on 2 separate evenings. And they were such good sports. And I really appreciate them indulging my teenage fantasy, despite the fact that we came up empty handed with no Rob in sight.

When we got to day 3 of the "search for Rob", I even enlisted my husband into the quest for an autograph. And he reluctantly went on his mission, probably more so I would shut the hell up about this guy already. Mission failed. No autograph obtained.

As day 4 arrived, I really started to think about this whole quest and how silly I was beginning to feel. I was unwilling to go look for Rob by myself and I had to ask myself "why". I started to have flashbacks about the time that I met another object of my affection. I had lusted after the actor, River Phoenix, for most of my tween/teen years when he arrived in town for a benefit concert. And he wasn't leaving town without my meeting him and getting an autograph, which I did. And he was a jerk. And it completely burst my bubble. Did I really want the same outcome with my latest crush?

The final straw came when a friend of a friend actually did meet Rob while he was here. And she was so disappointed. And I breathed a huge sigh of relief that my bubble was still intact. The dream is still alive. And I can still admire the pictures, enjoy the movies and imagine him just like this.

Yeah, I can live with that. And I'm sure Rob would like it that way too.

Sugar, oh how I'll miss you

Yesterday was not a great day for me. I had my annual check up with my favorite doctor and she decided to give me a whole lot of tough love. I absolutely adore my doc, but yesterday, I really wasn't feeling it.

I actually went to her and asked her to put me on mood stabilizer meds. Yep, the girl who gets in a tizzy about even taking a Tylenol for a headache actually begged for some hardcore medication. My head just hasn't been in a good place for a really long time. I think it all started with untreated postpartum depression (from both deliveries) and has just gotten worse from there.

She told me something that another friend of mine has been emphasizing for a long time. All of this weight that I'm carrying is causing way more harm than I even realize. And I think deep down that I do realize it, but just don't know how to deal with it anymore.

My weight has been a major issue for me as far back as I can remember. In high school, I worked out a lot and played volleyball and still hated my body. I would compare myself to my girlfriends who I always thought were so gorgeous and thin, not even realizing that I was not fat. I look back at pictures from myself at that age and am horrified that I thought I was overweight.

Now, I have the opposite problem. I've been overweight for so long now that I've found a level of comfort with my size. And that really bothers me. When I look in the mirror, I see that small girl from high school with the cute face. It's not until I see pictures of myself at this size that I am aghast at the person looking back at me. The one thing that hasn't changed is that I'm still incredibly self-conscious in public. I do NOT like people looking at me.

So, my doctor refused to give me meds. While she agreed that I definitely have some mental things that need to be addressed, she really feels like if I face my food addiction first and get it under control, then other things might start to work themselves out.

Since sweets are my worst vice, she told me to eliminate sugar from my diet for 3 months. And then I cried. Ok, not really, but I sure wanted to. Chocolate, ice cream, cookies and all those wonderful bits of junk food goodness are what I turn to when I can't deal with what's going on around me. And now I have to let it go. And frankly it scares me. I have to find another coping outlet to deal with my emotions, so I'm really trying to focus on writing again and hitting the gym. At least then, I might have a lot of great things to show for the 3 months of hell that I'm about to go through.

So, I would expect to see a lot more blog entries from me for the next few months. And I've started writing again. This time it's a whole different story. A story that's more autobiographical. A story that is heading into uncharted territory. A story whose ending has yet to be written, but one that I'm really looking forward to seeing.