Boy, what an odd week. I have not done yoga and my eating has been pretty horrendous. My sleeping patterns have been sad and unfulfilled. And I had a panic attack this week The first one in a couple of weeks and it nearly ruined me. I am mad that I had to take xanax but I just couldn’t get through it without worrying about how much I thought I was gonna die. And I’ll be honest, it is all because of my monthly visitor. The hormones are crazy. The crankiness knob is turned all the way up. The “Not Giving a F-ck” mode is engaged. I know that they say exercise helps, but NOTHING HELPS during my time. I have to do everything I can just to get past Day 1, which is usually the worst. Exercise – doesn’t help. Ibuprofen – doesn’t help. Sitting in a hot tub – doesn’t help. I just want to cuddle up into some blankets and pretend I don’t exist. Or just sleep. And with that comes strong head cravings for food I really don’t need… BUT I MUST HAVE.
So to say that I “fell off the wagon” is incorrect. I grabbed all of my shit and leaped off the wagon, rolled into the ditch, and then sat on the side of the road comfortably with a sleeve of Oreos. Yes, there is guilt attached to that. But not that same guilt I struggled with for a long time – the guilt that would lead to giving up completely. No, today is the day I flag the wagon down and ask to get back on…
May I get back on guys?
Fat and fearful,
Erica
Shaking For Serenity 