As of Monday, May 17th 2010, I will have been dieting for 3 solid weeks. In that time I changed my eating habits and reduced my caloric intake to somewhere around 1400 calories a day. While I have not changed my activity levels all too much, I was trying to follow the Medi Fast philosophy of achieving half my weight loss goal and then beginning the exercise, I am still moving around and doing things. In all this time you would think that I would have lost at least 3 or 4 pounds. But yet, the scale tells me I have lost nothing. In fact yesterday I was .4 pounds HEAVIER than I was 3 weeks ago.
I nearly decided to chuck it all and give up. Just accept the fact that the Cymbalta pounds are here to stay, go home and eat something nasty. I expressed that to my support system. My sister P and my BFF Pickle, both tried to encourage me to stay on track. They both sited examples of times when they were dieting and didn't lose anything for a few weeks and then BAM 10 pounds gone. It was sweet, and expected as they are the best cheerleaders anyone could ever ask for. But in the end it wasn't helping. I was hell bent on destruction and once I fix on something I am like the Terminator. Target acquired..... Target eliminated...
The more I thought about things the more I realized that really for the first time this weight loss was for me. Not to win the affection or attention of someone else, not to live up to someone else's standard of who I should be. D loves me no matter what. This much he has told me several times. No, this time it was really for me and for my future child. I am on the backside of 37, I have survived cervical cancer, I have adenomyosis and a tendency for ovarian cysts. All of these things are in my way to becoming a mother. Why would I let the one thing I can control be added to the list? I would conquer this weight by any means necessary.
Fibromyalgia is a funny thing. People think that because they have been diagnosed recently and Doctors have finally recognized the illness, that they understand it so much better than those of us who have been struggling with it for years. Truth is, until they find a virus or a gene that screams "I AM CAUSING THIS", fibromyalgia will still be a trash can diagnosis for many people. Especially with the advent of drugs that are designed to treat Fibromyalgia pain, more and more doctors will call widespread pain and fatigue fibro, prescribe something awful and move on. I would bet that of the people diagnosed each year with fibro, about half are actually clinically depressed and aren't getting the treatment they need because a Dr. decided it was fibro and didn't look for anything else. Another ten percent or better are people who have drug seeking behavior and complain about everything until someone coughs up the meds they want. Then there are the rest of us. Those of us that struggle with this thing day in and day out. I was diagnosed in 2000, shortly after the new year. In the last 10 years I have experienced widespread pain, severe fatigue, interrupted sleep, difficulty falling asleep, an apparently immunity to all sleep medications and pain medications, IBS, and RLS. The latter of which is getting very bad!
Whats the right way for me to get moving without pissing off the fibro ghouls that live in my body? Muscle lengthening like Pilate's or yoga on a comfortable surface, swimming and water aerobics. All of which should be done about 3 hours before bedtime. Enough time for the endorphins to wear off but not long enough to lose the benefit of tired muscles aiding in falling asleep and actually getting some REM time. None of that is possible for me right now. Let me tell you what happens when I exert myself. First let me give you non fibro folks an idea of what it feels like. Have you ever been in a car accident? One where you were belted in and suffered no real injury but had your whole body whipped around. How did you feel 2 days later? That's how I feel everyday. So when we decided to pull out some bushes and I got too into it a few weeks ago, I paid for my 35 minutes of exertion with amplified pain, the inability to make a fist with either hand and searing neck pain for about a week.
Exercise is awesome, but not for me, not yet. The additional weight just makes everything so much worse. I thought I could lose the Cymbalta pounds and then start to slowly work myself into some yoga or something. D and I promised each other that we would work out together every morning once we were in Sint Maarten and finish each day with a swim. I figured by then I would be ready. I had set myself a course of dieting that would have me losing 2.5 lbs a week for the first 8 weeks or so and then adding in the moderate exercise I would be able to maintain that for the next 20 weeks losing a grand total of weight that is more than most people would recommend for me, but provided me some breathing room for the inevitable gorging on food in NY that was to come :)
So here I am considering giving up and just fading into the oblivion of nonchalance when I made a decision. I will change to the low carb plan that has worked for me before. If in three more weeks there is still no change then I will consult a doctor to see if something more sinister is at work inside my body. Until then I will continue to fight. I will continue to press forward and try to get myself ready for the event of my life. Now I have a little more incentive. D and I have agreed to start trying to get pregnant in September. Only 4 months away, so I have a lot of work to do but I will look at the inspiration for my tattoo and will gather up my burnt out body and try for miraculous rebirth.
Wish me luck....
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