Depression and the Fat Girl

Hi Friends and Web Friends,

I've been doing lots of thinking lately about why I'm falling in love with running and why it's happening to me now. Running is providing for me. It is helping me to cope with depression, but exercise alone was not enough to pull me out of the state I was in earlier this year. If I'm really honest with myself, I've been depressed a lot longer than a year, but this was the first time I've gotten the help I needed in many forms - mostly Love and Pharmaceuticals.

I have realized that at this point in my life I need medication to keep my brain chemistry balanced.  When my brain chemistry is balanced, I can do all of the normal human things - the things my healthier friends can do without medication. Like get good sleep so I can make it to work on time. Or eat regularly so I don't binge eat when I finally remember that my body needs food on day two or three. Or do my laundry so I don't have to buy underwear at Walgreen's on Sunday night. I'm learning to make lists (thanks, Carisse) and organize my thoughts and organize my house and organize my work life. It's hard. And I couldn't do it when I was not treating my depression. Weakened immune system, weight loss/gain, sleeplessnes, inability to focus. That shit is real.

My close friends have noticed this shift. They are seeing a healthier version of me and showing all the love to Healthier Dee they showed to Less Mentally Stable Dee. They are awesome people. But many of them were surprised to know I needed medication to get to that place. People without a mental or emotional imbalance can't imagine the way it feels. People say in the anti-depressant commercials, "I've been living under a cloud for years and now I'm me again".  It sounds cheesy. But it only sounds cheesy to people who haven't been there. I've been there and I know about the cloud. (They still need better TV ads, but that's a topic for another blog.)

We are good at using shame in awful ways in our society. I am learning not to be ashamed of my depression diagnosis at the same time I am learning not to be ashamed of my body. We need to get better at accepting mental and emotional illnesses. There is no shame in asking for the help you need. There is no shame in letting your friends love you. But I suffered so long because I was too arrogant to get help. You can be smart, capable, hold down a job, and still need help.

If you are feeling depressed, ask for help. Don't be arrogant as long as I was. Prozac is working for me now, along with exercise and eating cleaner and being with good friends more and talking to God more. You may not need medication. You may need a different treatment - talk therapy, a walking partner, more vegetables in your life. Let's all agree to pay more attention to what our bodies are asking of us and not be ashamed.

Don't ever be afraid to tell the people you love that you need help. You will get all the help you need if you just ask for it.

A special thanks to all of you for showing me love on this blog. You guys email me, text me, and tell me how much you can relate to what I am writing here, and that brings me a special kind of joy. I am a data nerd. I am a chubby girl. I am loved more than I deserve. And I want to add writer to that list eventually. Thank you for encouraging me along the way. Kim, your comments especially have encouraged me in ways you can't imagine. I admire you so much and your use of the word proud was so powerful.

I'm working on a post called "Sex and the Fat Girl" - that one will be less serious and more funny (I'm at my best when I get to be raunchy), so stay tuned...... :)

Also working on a post about not having enough food because I was raised by a single mom who did the best she could but couldn't provide for us financially. My food insecurities grew when Clinton was reforming Welfare As We Know It in the 90's and I accidentally got fat on a food stamp budget. Does anyone want to correspond about how poverty and fatness and shame intersect? I need to explore this idea some more with people smarter than me before I can write about it.

Thanks for helping me learn to write my feelings instead of eat them!!!
With Love,
Deanna

Let's Try This Again

I woke up this morning with an urge to continue this journey with more intention.  Another Sunburst came and went since the last time I’ve posted here.  Despite my promise to shave 10 minutes off my time over the 12 months in between the races, I didn’t even participate in the 2012 one.  I haven’t done much running (Okay, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve run) since the 5K in 2011.  So now I’m jumping back in with both feet and recommitting.

I don’t have all bad news to share about what’s been going on in my life since the last time we talked.  I’ve learned a lot of very personalized lessons about health and nutrition and fitness.  I’ve lost a little over 30 pounds since the first time I posted here.  Overall, I’m happy about that, but I can’t say it’s been an overall positive experience.  Every pound I lose puts me in a very scary place.  I’m both elated and terrified of gaining it back at the same time.  It’s some sort of punishment/reward game, and my body has been very good at keeping the rules of the game from my conscious parts. 

I think a lot of chronic dieters probably understand what I’m talking about right now.  I can only describe it with my background as a treatment aide at a drug rehab facility, which only confirms my suspicion that eating and weight loss/gain can be their very own addictions, or diseases.  There is a euphoric sort of high you experience along your fitness journey.  But it’s not like the kind of high some of my clients would get from heroin or cocaine; it’s not predictable like those drugs are.  With a narcotics addiction, you are excruciatingly familiar with the results of your high – you know exactly what it is going to feel like and the only thing that excites you more than anticipating that feeling is experiencing it.  People with addictions are most comfortable and feel most “at home” when they’re high.  I’m sure that’s for a lot of different reasons – maybe they’ve built that “home” for themselves as a place to escape to when the world seems unbearable, maybe the honestly believe that their altered state is the only state they feel they can be themselves in. 

But we (chronic dieters/overeaters/whatever you word(s) you choose) don’t experience a predictable kind of high.  There is no “home” for us as we work through our addiction.  Our addiction exists inside our minds and our bodies, both of which are ever-changing.  So we don’t know what is going to cause a high.  It can sometimes be the same thing that would trigger withdrawal symptoms.  Sometimes a high can come from a workout – you step out of the weight room or off of the treadmill, bike, elliptical, etc. and you feel on top of the world.  Other times, a workout can bring into sharp focus how much work you still have to do to get where you want to be.  Breathing hard can either make you feel like a warrior or like a fatso who’s making too much noise because she’s been abusing her body for far too long.  Sweating is a badge of honor sometimes and sometimes it's something we feel the need to hide or be ashamed of or apologize for.  Sore muscles can make you feel accomplished, or they can make you feel tired and defeated.  Binge eating can make you feel peace and fulfillment or it can convince you you’re worthless.  There is a constant ebb – up and down, back and down – but there’s no flow.  There’s no predictability.  We don’t know what actions will result in which feelings, which can be mentally, emotionally, physically exhausting.  We don’t know whether to anticipate our post-workout glory or fear our post-workout self-flagellation.  We don’t know whether indulging is going to lead to a binge or remain a small treat that encourages us to stay on the right track.  As exhausting as this can be, I think this is also what saves us.  Maybe this unpredictability is where the distinction is made between our addictions and others'.  Our recovery can’t be a steady progression away from the lifestyle that led to our addiction.  We can’t go cold turkey and avoid excessive eating or excessive exercise at all costs.  While we are in recovery, we are learning ways to love our body, we are learning ways to appreciate it for what it is capable of and teach it new ways to thrive. 

We are learning.  The learning process is one that never ends.  We don’t have a destination, we just have this awesome journey.  We don’t succeed.  We don’t fail.  We just move forward.  I’m excited about moving forward with the support of you all.  My hope is that by writing some of these feelings down, we get to feel them together and be encouraged by each other.  Jenn and I are going to run together this afternoon for the first time in over a year.