Diary 101 Entry 2

Hello, world… this has been one heck of a week. I’m coming to you from renovation central, except the renovating want take back up until Monday and it is Friday. So, what does that mean. It means a house covered in dust, no kitchen and having to either stay upstairs or go up and down the stairs to go to the only functioning bathroom at the moment. Those of you who know me know the dust and the stairs are equally daunting aspects that drive me almost to losing my sanity.

On a good day, going up and down stairs is very hard for me. Honestly, even when I was at my lowest weight, stairs still were something that caused me a lot of pain. Stairs kept me from swimming in the Natural Pool in Aruba. Stairs always kept the option of a top floor apartment at bay. Stairs which in Long Island is just a way of life would be detours for me, each and every time. My knees are just so bad. Ever since I fell at 8 years of age and basically shattered my knee (which went untreated). I have had bone floating on top of my knee cap. Later in years, doctors said they could remove the floating pieces but my mom chose not to put me through surgery due to my heart problems. They told me that by 18 you will need new knees. Well, I still have my God-provided knees at soon to be 41; so needless to say, since I have gained weight, my knees have only got worse.

Sometimes I see plus size chicks that are my size or larger and they are living a very healthy, pain-free lives and I’m over here jealous as heck. No matter what size I have been, or will be, I will still always be considered unhealthy; as my heart doctor used to say (back when I was doing better than I am today), I could be the healthiest un-healthy person. I’m not trying to start a great debate on where or not fat people can be healthy and whether or not we should, or should not diet. I am just never going to promote dieting or diet culture. However, I do believe in working out, eating as healthy as you can and living life in a manor that is good for you and your body if you need to. (there will be a blog post eventually on exactly where I stand on this entire topic).

I digress. This is supposed to be my brain dump. I really want to talk about therapy. As some of you may know, I meet a therapist weekly. This has become a highlight of my week. I always dreaded to the point of hate going to therapist, shrinks etc. However, this time it’s different. Before when I was seeking mental health support, it was just entirely so they would give me drugs (so I could cope). I honestly knew what to say and how to say it, for the caregiver to think it was good enough cause for medications. This time going into therapy I stated I did not want to ever be approached with the idea I needed drugs. I wanted therapy and that was it. This was by far the best decision I have ever made for myself. I have gone into every session free to express myself as I am good or bad. I am not living in fear they won’t medicate me because my one desire is to handle my mental health drug free. Now don’t get me wrong, I know that being bipolar there may be a time when I need medication. That is just a fact I face and accept. However, at the moment I am doing fairly decent and keeping afloat. The overall freedom I feel is amazing. I for the first time feel therapy is doing what it is intended to do. My therapist is amazing. She is young, stylish in that cute-aloof sort of way. She is kind, witty, smart, and she calls me out on my shit as well. I may have got really lucky, folks; she seriously is the best. Honestly, she reminds me a lot of my best friend in Long Island, so when I go in to a appointment it almost feels like a chat with an old friend.

Outside of therapy, my weeks consist of making Instagram posts, recording, editing, writing, cleaning our house, cooking, and attending sports events for Jer’s boys. I love my days; they feel like I am useful and needed. I know that Jer could do it all without me, but, it’s so nice that he doesn’t want to. It is so nice to be wanted. I have not had that feeling in a very long time. Thinking back to my marriage lately (due to trying to be friendly with my ex), I wish sometimes we could have both grown-up before it was too late. Then, I remind myself that growing up was not the only issue we had. Feeling wanted was one of the biggest issues I had. I felt like a burden, a holding place until something better came along. Those are not feelings you want to be having in a relationship. To me, the fact that Jer shows me almost daily that he wants me here with him has made me feel 100 times better in our relationship. Never underestimate the power of being wanted. If you don’t feel that way, you need to see what in your life needs to change to feel it.

Well, life is calling so I need to end this little blog. I know most of these diary entries will be wild ramblings that go all over the place. You will see into a mind of a ADHD, bipolar person for sure.
Xoxo
Evie

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