Tag Archives: Health


I am not making any progress in any good direction. Neither am I having huge setbacks. Is that success for me? Maybe it is. Status quo.

I joined a gym two weeks ago and haven’t gone yet. I realized I have no clothes to wear to a public place to work out in. So I spent $100 on some shit at Old Navy and it hasn’t come yet. I’m wondering if it got stolen off my front porch. People do that.

I’m coming up on a year in my own home. It’s been a really interesting adventure. I did buy a lot of new stuff when I moved here because I had to. I had no couch, bed, etc. But then I stopped buying and made do and during that time I had time to settle in and really think about what I want instead of just buying it because I had to. A month ago I ordered blinds for two windows and installed them myself. I still have several other windows to deal with.

I’m struggling to deal with end of year bills PLUS Christmas. I will have to go into savings to make it through. Next year I’ll plan better. It took me seven or eight months of living here before I didn’t have to transfer from my small savings just to get by. I have definitely learned that I feel horribly panicked when finances are out of control. So if it means eating burritos or peanut butter sandwiches to make ends meet, it’s so worth it for me.

But it does suck to deal with this all on my own. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that. In the past it didn’t really matter if my job didn’t pay that well because there was always another income (except my last marriage, who provided no income). So, yes, it’s empowering to manage on my own. But it’s also scary. I applied for a better paying job and got an email for an interview, then I decided I didn’t want that job so I cancelled. I am just not ready. I feel secure at my job for the most part.

And I look at my little snug house and want to do SO many fun things to it to make it perfect. But there is no disposable income for that. I’ve decided that I can only do my best and that, in the end, this is a good investment. I have a fantasy that in ten years (when I’m 70) my daughter and her partner will invite me to their home and I’ll turn over what I have to them and have them fix up the room in their backyard for me.

I called this post “Seven” because I am once again, endeavoring to get a grip on my health/weight/sleep. I keep telling myself and others that my diet isn’t “so bad” throughout the day, but at night I just can’t stop eating. So, I’m doing my best not to eat after seven. That’s it. That’s the only change I’m making.

At 6:45 tonight I brushed my teeth, then I used my Waterpik, then i put in my mouth guard that I recently got. My mouth generally hurts and feels tight. I thought it might help. So far I can’t tell if it is helping. Then I used my Netipot because my sinuses are a mess, then washed my face and put lotion on. I hope to make this a routine and part of winding down, which aids in sleep preparation. We’ll see.

I do know that I really do not like eating after I’ve brushed my teeth for quite some time, so I feel optimistic in that regard.

I just had a five day weekend and don’t have much to show for it. Saw my parents a few times, but that’s it. I try not to think about how solitary my life is. Most of the time I don’t really mind, but sometimes I do. I think about how I will probably be alone the rest of my life and when I ponder why that is, it is totally due to my weight. I cannot believe anyone could see past it. Sometimes I feel I can accept that I could be without a romantic partner, after all, I’ve had four husbands and many, many lovers. But I think it’s sad that I have no real female friends. I honestly don’t know why that is. Sometimes I think people my age already have all the friendships they need. Sometimes I just think I must be too weird for most people. But I don’t really mind being different.

On a positive note, I took part of my spare room, which is rarely used, and put up my easel and began a painting. I’m super rusty holding a brush but I do hope that I’ll begin to spend more time doing that. I’ve also collected a few houseplants which feel sort of like a poor girl’s cat… I made myself laugh there. But yes, I say hi to them now and then and I stroke their leaves. I have one I’ve moved away from the others because it seems to have a bug.

I am also discovering jazz which is an enormous endeavor. I can’t put my finger on what I like but sometimes I know what I don’t like, and of course it also depends on my mood and what I’m doing. After the cheater and I split up I could not listen to the music I used to like and turned to Bach. Not classical music, just Bach. And I really loved it and still do, but I decided for my painting, it was time to discover jazz.

Here we are, a month away from Christmas and the shortest day of the year. I always like to get that day behind me because it’s so horribly dark here in Oregon at this time of year. Time really does fly and it’ll soon be getting lighter again.




The scale read 248.6 this morning and I thought, ‘my gosh this weight loss thing is easy’ but then I remembered WATER WEIGHT. Oh well, at least it got me into the 40s.

For a long time now I’ve been eating a ton at night, so that’s when things are the hardest for me. But right now, with just a middling effort I will probably lose weight simply because my body is used to so, so many extra calories.

It’s only been a few days but already I feel more energized and that I’m sleeping better. I woke with my alarm this morning which I never do. I’m trying to spend a couple of hours puttering around the house before I settle into to Midsomer Murders (Netflix) and that feels good too. I forget that we work nine hours and sleep 8 hours, but that does leave some time for things other than watching TV.

And I’ve started the habit of coming home on Friday and doing chores and laundry to get a jump start on the weekend. That way I don’t feel like I’m spending half of Saturday doing that. Of course I’ll probably do the yard work tomorrow, but that’s okay — it’s EXERCISE.

I discovered well after I moved in here that my walls are plaster, not drywall. I love the look of them, but I’m having a hard time hanging heavier things — I’m fearful it’ll just fall off the wall and take the plaster with it. I’ve watched a lot of youtube vids, but still feel timid. This is a time I wish I had a man in my life. But not all men know how to do stuff like that — my recent ex would not have known.

My father says, “I can help! I’m not crippled.” But he is awfully frail. I have a shelf I assembled from Ikea that I just don’t know how to get up. I feel sort of ridiculous about that.

Speaking of dad, this Sunday is Father’s Day. I’ve been acutely aware the last couple of years that every birthday, Christmas, Father’s Day, could be his last. I don’t want him to go anywhere not only because I love him and will miss him, but also because that will leave me with my mom.

My sister moved to town about a year ago. It took her several years of planning because she had to bring her other adult children with her — she has a grandchild she did not want to leave behind in Louisiana. We were never close as kids but I really did look forward to her coming here and doing things with her now and then.

Well, that’s not happening, not even a little. Last November we planned to meet at a holiday fair and I got there and texted her and started walking around. About thirty minutes later I ran into her, her daughter, and grandchild and my sister hits her daughter on the arm and declares, “I told you to remind me!”

So I was a complete and utter afterthought for her. She basically forgot she was meeting me. I can’t fathom such behavior. We are nothing alike.

I bring her up because I had at least hoped that she’d spend some time with our folks so that I don’t have to feel so guilty when I’m not over there. But no, she really can’t be bothered to do that either, and she rarely calls them. She is simply consumed with her five kids and all their drama. Outsiders can’t compete.

And my parents are pretty confused about how to deal with her and her brood. Her offspring are adults and they are jobless potheads (okay, one is on methadone), they smell, they are overly opinionated, they feel like utter strangers, and we don’t know how to deal with family get togethers.

When they come to my parent’s house, it’s awkward. When my parents offer to take them out they feel embarrassed by their appearance, smell, and behavior. I feel guilty that I don’t really want to get to know them. I can’t tell my sister that her kids are strangers to me and I don’t really care for them. I really don’t know how to handle it.

But my mom really hates them. She makes an ugly face when she talks about them. I really hate hearing her speak that way about her own grandchildren. It’s awful. So I’m sort of curious about how her opinions on my sister and her family change or don’t change when she becomes a widow.

At least I’m assuming dad will go first. It’s a miracle that a man who has smoked since he was 12 is still alive at 82. He’ll be 83 next month. Mom’s health isn’t bad, and she’s 80.

When I first moved to my place this winter I asked my sister to come over several times. She didn’t respond or didn’t feel well. I finally stopped asking her because I was beginning to feel embarrassed about it. I really feel she just doesn’t need anyone in her life. It’s not that she is envious that I have a house and she doesn’t — It’s that she just doesn’t care about anyone but herself and her kids and grandkids.

But I’m oversimplifying the situation. She does have bad health. She does have her hands full with her kids. I would not trade places with her for anything. I never should have thought we could be close since we never have been. I tell my parents that it’s not like I lost anything because she’s never been a part of my life. But I’ll admit to you that I’m disappointed. I really thought I’d have an adult friend to do something with on a Friday night.

No need to feel bad for me. I’m on my second load of laundry and I’m about to vacuum. I know how to have a good time on Friday night!


Any advice on what you do when faced with relatives you don’t really want to spend time with?


Rage. Raw Emotions. Clinging to hope.

I am at my absolute worst right now. This rage I am feeling is so much more dangerous than my deep depression. I hope I can somehow manage it. I feel like taking one of the emergency anti anxiety pills but I know I have to do everything I can not to get into that habit.

I think this is Borderline at its worst. I feel so angry at everyone, including myself. I wasn’t all that eager to swim, but went there and shared a lane with a woman for about ten minutes. Then she got out and a man immediately took her place. He was an old man, a slow swimmer, and I use the term “swimmer” loosely since he mainly floated on his back and kicked his frog legs out to the side, arms wide. And every single time I swam by him I feared getting frog kicked and so finally I asked the man in the next lane if I could share his, and he said, yes, but that the woman who was there left her stuff and hadn’t come back. I said, okay, and got out and waited for a lane to open. She never came back, by the way. She was probably in a water aerobics class.

As I sat there watching this selfish man so leisurely floating up and down what was MY lane and I just felt like screaming. I waited about ten minutes and then shared the lane next to him but every time I swam by him I wanted to cuss him out under the water. I realized I was not going to get a handle on this rage and that I might as well get out or risk having a heart attack.

I don’t know why the pool was so crowded. I wish swimmers would have some consideration for who they pick to share a lane with. And now I fear, being an all or nothing person, that I will never go back or that my pool time will now diminish until it’s nonexistent. I’m so resentful yet this is almost entirely manufactured by ME. It’s all because of MY attitude, not the old man or anybody else.

I’m not sure why I feel so raw. Perhaps just that my comfortable routine is all over the place right now. I fear being told that my background check has embarrassing and humiliating things in it. I have mixed emotions about my husband. My weight loss has come to a crawl. Fuck. Sorry. But, Fuck. I am sorry for the language, I am just at a loss.

I guess I feel grateful that I have an appointment with my psychiatric nurse practitioner today.

I spent the entire day yesterday in training for a volunteer position at a place affiliated with the DA’s office where children that are victims of abuse can get their needs taken care of in one place.

We heard from another police detective, a woman from the Department of Human Services, a probation officer from the juvenile justice center (for under age abusers), and met some of the experienced victim advocates, which is what I will (hopefully) become at the end of training.

We heard another real 911 call that made me tear up, and we heard a telephone conversation between a 14 year old girl and her father who sexually abused her from age eleven. She worked with the detective and knew what to say to get her father to admit to the abuse on the phone. Her bravery was incredible. And it was almost satisfying to hear the utter panic in his voice when he realized it was all over for him. In spite of his extreme anxiety he was still asking her to lie for him.

It was nice to hear from the experienced volunteer advocates. They talked about the highs and lows of the job. More than one person said that you know the job is getting to you when you leave for the day and all you can think of is having a drink. They were kidding, but at the same time serious. I’m struck by the camaraderie in spite of the different goals of the various agencies. They use a lot of humor to offset such a serious situation.

I haven’t heard whether I passed the background check yet but will certainly know by Friday which is the last day of formal training. After that we’ll shadow more experienced people until we feel comfortable taking a case ourselves. In case you’re new to the blog, I was concerned that several years of suicide attempts would somehow show up on my background check.

Being able to volunteer is part of me getting my life back on track. I’ve lived abroad for the past several years and my references and work experience are old. I need to gain experience and references in order to start my life over. I also need to find out if I am capable of working again. It’s been about ten years since I held a job. I’m a bit sad that I’ve discovered this amazing world and wish that I were 26 and not 56 so that I could be someone who really makes a difference to a hurting child.

My husband (estranged) is helping me with a website I want to bring back, one that I ran before, but it’s such a pain in the ass with him giving it very little attention and it looks really bad while it’s under construction that I’m losing hope over it. This is the one thing that I might be able to turn into a way to make money, but he can’t get it together to bring the site up. He keeps saying he’ll do it and then he doesn’t.

I’m so wound up. I fear overeating. I fear doing something rash. I hate feeling this way. It’s so pathetic because last night I watched most of a PBS documentary about Mister Rogers and I was so overwhelmed with how genuinely kind this man was and I wanted only to emulate him, and look at me, screaming (in my head) at old men who just want to use the pool like me. And that’s where my rage takes me, back to despising myself. I want off this roller coaster. It’s no way to live.



Breathe again.

Close your eyes.


Think about an image, a place, a time, the future, anything hopeful. It’s hard. I can’t choose, I am too scattered.

Just breathe then.

Something will come to you.

You can’t be having a fit if you’re breathing long, slow, deep breaths. You can’t.

Compassion. Have compassion for your mom as you help her with Facebook. Have compassion for your dad as you show him walkers to buy on Craigslist. All of our time here is fleeting. Love the people who have given you so much. Pet the dog. Breathe.

You can do this.


And think, “What would Lady Grantham do?”

The Week I Didn’t Lose Weight

As I feared, I did not lose weight this week, in fact I weigh four ounces more than last week, which I’m not going to bother to count.

I’m deeply concerned, but not in a panic about my lack of weight loss. It’s clear to me that when I’m mostly depressed I can pretty much control my eating, but when I’m anxious, it’s very difficult.

I’ve been anxious quite a bit in the last couple of weeks and I saw myself doing that nervous-mindless-eating thing, in particular with those hard candies (Nips) with the chocolate center. They have only 30 calories. But they are all sugar. And if you eat ten or twelve of them, well, so much for 30 calories.

I have tried not to eat them this week, and I have failed. If I weren’t living here, I’d throw them away so that the temptation is gone, but my dad likes them. I’m tempted to ask him if we can put them in his room, in fact I think I will do that. He won’t mind.

There are many snacks in this house at all times, and I’ve been pretty good at resisting them or severely limiting them, but since I’ve been nervous I am finding it almost impossible.

I’m considering weighing myself every day this week simply to get back on track and not allow myself to forget how important this is. I’m not even halfway to my goal weight, I can’t stop here. I won’t stop here.

This is not a plateau. This was just mindless nervous eating. If I apply myself, I will continue to lose weight. I really wish it would stop raining. I’d like to get outside to walk or hike.

The good news, I guess, is that I forced myself to swim yesterday even though I felt crummy. I am no worse for wear because of it, and it made me feel better since the pool is closed on Sundays. I did not want to go three days without exercising again.

This week I should be able to exercise on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday, so I will make certain I do.

Today are the Academy Awards and my parents plant to start watching the red carpet stuff in the late afternoon and snacking all day. I’m going to tell them that I have to be careful and excuse myself from that temptation as much as I can.

At the recommendation of a commenter, I tinkered with trying to set up my old website yesterday and just hit huge walls. To my shock, my husband did upload a new WordPress template that I chose and says he’ll begin to work on it for me. He obviously isn’t under any obligation to do this for me, but it’s the decent thing to do considering I still pay for his cell phone bill. I’m looking at it as an exchange.

It won’t require that many hours of his time. I’m pretty competent at running the website after it’s prettied up.

So I’ve got that to look forward to. I wish I could tell you more about it, but I can hardly have my children/family website affiliated with the raw me, the one with emotional problems.

Even though it requires me to spend far too much time sitting at a computer, the website helps me feel like I’ve accomplished something and I’m really proud of it. (If you’re new to the blog, I ran this site before, took it off the internet, and when I went to put it back on, I lost all of the hundreds of articles I had written, so I have to start from scratch.)

I did look into those standing desks and would really like to try one, but they aren’t suited, I’ve discovered, for laptop users. They are better if your monitor and keyboard are separate otherwise you can end up bending over to see properly. I won’t rule it out, however.

I just told my parents that for the first time since October I did not lose weight and told them it was because I was anxious. I asked dad if I could put the Nips in his room and he said of course. So I should be back on track now that I have “witnesses” to my purpose.

My mother, however, began to talk about meals and recipes and I had to cut her off and tell her I simply can’t think about food that much. It’s unpleasant for me and has the opposite unintended effect. She talked about buying a healthier wheat bread and I told her that, as I don’t eat much bread, I prefer it to be the one I love the most, a wheat sourdough. I don’t want to eat something simply because it’s a better version. I want to love it, but limit the quantity.

Now she’s overwhelming me with ideas of what to have tonight even though I keep telling her to do whatever she likes, that I will take what I want from it, but she doesn’t get that. SHE HAS TO OVER THINK EVERYTHING.

My parents left and I got up to put the Nips in Dad’s room and he had already done it, bless his heart. My mom wants to help in her own way, too, she’s just a bit clueless. Her heart is in the right place, however.

I think I have begun this week, just barely begun, to realize that I am separating emotionally from my husband. It’s a natural process, an organic one that can’t be forced or rushed. I no longer long for his messages or calls and I no longer care to be in his company. I seem to have accepted that it is truly over. I’m so grateful to be allowed some relief from the sadness, grief, resentment, humiliation, etc. that contact with him provides. There’s an emptiness that makes me uncomfortable, but I’m glad that most of my unhappiness hasn’t been replaced with bitterness and anger, at least not too much. I am not saying it will be easy from here on out. It’s unlikely that will be the case, but my healing seems to have begun.

I’m realistically optimistic in fact I “feel like a room without a roof.”

If you need a smile today, try this:

Sunday Stats
Starting weight: 267 (mid October 2013)
Today’s weight: 216
Total weight loss to date: 51 pounds
Height: 5’8″
Goal weight: about 150

What Would Lady Grantham Do?

I sat and read my ACT book last night, but wasn’t absorbing much of it. I’ll just give myself credit for trying to concentrate on it.

I received an email that my husband forwarded to me from him and his attorney. He asked his attorney to explain why the letter won’t be ready until next week and said his “ex-partner” was accusing him of delay tactics. The attorney wrote that he’s in a trial and the letter will be ready at the end of next week.

I thought, oh how very English. I’m his ex-partner now. And for some reason it just stung. After all, I am still his wife. I guess I’m his estranged wife.

Didn’t sleep well and dreamt disturbing dreams. My ears, glands, and throat were hurting so much last night that I got up and took a pain reliever. I was pretty sure that I should not go swim today, but I did anyway.

Once in the pool I realized I just didn’t have full strength but I gave it my best and lasted about 50 minutes. I figured it’s better than nothing, plus I may feel worse tomorrow and I don’t want to miss several days swimming due to a cold, or whatever I’ve got.

When I was done at the pool I texted my husband because he had packed up five plastic bins of my stuff and I asked him if I could stop by for them. He said to come on over so when I pulled up, he was right out front with the bins. We loaded them together (they smell like ashtrays inside) and I left.

It felt so weird to see him. He’s looking trim, his hair cut recently, and he had on new skinny jeans. He was as matter of fact to me as I was to him. His accent seemed foreign. I actually wanted to get away as quickly as I could.

He said he needs another three bins, so I stopped on the way home and bought some. Most of what’s left there is furniture and now I have to decide if I want to get a larger storage unit now, or wait until he’s ready to leave the place. The main bummer is that my soft furniture will now be ruined from cigarette smoke. He never used to smoke inside. His girlfriend must be a smoker.

On to a better subject.

After I stopped writing here yesterday, I did what I said I was going to do and filled out the volunteer application to be a child advocate in the court system. It took me an hour due to supplemental questions. But eventually I printed it and stole an envelope and stamp from mom, and put it in the mail. Done.

Now I’ll be so curious if they call me. If they don’t then I’ll figure there’s something seriously wrong with my resume! I hope it works out. It’d be a nice place to meet people and do something good at the same time. I’m really curious what the position entails. Perhaps if a child has to testify, they use a volunteer to show them around the courtroom and make them comfortable? I have no idea.

Being able to do this will help me to find out if I’m at all ready to re-enter the job market. Also, they would be a good current reference for me. And, who knows, maybe it’ll help me get a paid position with the County eventually.

It’s the first step towards getting me in an environment where I interact with people. I like the environment of the courthouse. There are police, sheriff, lawyers, and judges milling about, plus all that security. I hope they don’t discount me because I have no legal experience. I’m really insecure about this!

I’m going to have to baby myself a bit. Try to get some rest, eat well, find my vitamin C, because I feel pretty punk. But I’ll get up and swim again tomorrow as long as I’m no worse.

I’m really stumped how to find a way, when I’m sinking into despair, to remember to breathe, to visualize, and to know that it will pass. I am honestly tempted to write it on my damn hand!

I had an idea that you might find amusing. I find Downton Abbey pretty entertaining and came up with “What Would Lady Grantham Do?” because she’s always so calm and composed. Do you think I could market a gold rubber bracelet with WWLGD on it?

WWLGD (What Would Lady Grantham Do?)

WWLGD (What Would Lady Grantham Do?)

I have to find some way to help me behave the way I want to behave. I’m being silly, of course, but I’d do it if it works!

Stop. Just Stop.

I spun my wheels again today and I didn’t hear from the imaging center. Tried to get my taxes done and that fell through. Then I had a fight with my mother and afterwards, in tears, I called my  husband.

We had a fairly long talk. He’s trying to help me bring my old website back to life. It’s not a very simple process. We bickered about things and we also were real with one another. He asked me again not to make any definitive decisions regarding my career, my life, our marriage. Just to put it on hold until his lawsuit is resolved. I said okay because I love him.

If you read that with disgust, I’m sorry. I never thought I could ever consider taking back a man who has and still is treating me so disrespectfully. He seems to be actually living with her, in my apartment, filled with my things. The slap in the face is so outrageous I can’t process it.

He is using her for rides, for sex, for who knows what else. But it’s clear he also has feelings for me. His life is in ruins in pretty much every conceivable way. He’s in survival mode.

I thought my living here was good for my parents. Almost as good for them as it was for me. I’m very helpful. I constantly do dishes and offer to shop and do errands. I do yard work. I take the dogs out. I spend a lot of money on food. But my mother is a very bitter, sad person and it’s clear she feels I’m making things worse by being here and not better.

I’m ashamed that I have no place to go. I’m also aware that there are no circumstances under which I would ever ask my own daughter to leave my home, but then I do love her unconditionally.

The problem started today when, stupidly thinking I might be able to reach her, I tried to talk to her about the silent treatment she gives to my father. I told her that I wasn’t speaking as a daughter, but just woman to woman, and that I feel she will really regret even 30 seconds of silent treatment after he is gone.

To my horror she responded, “You could have a heart attack and die before he does, or I could. You don’t know what I put up with.” And that’s when I realized she probably won’t feel any guilt at all when my father dies. She will still be the victim.

I said, “Mom, he’s dying. He uses an oxygen tank. He can’t do anything. He will more than likely be going before you or I go. This is the man who, in spite of all your problems with him, you’ve known him and loved him since he was a child.”

I won’t vomit up the remainder of the argument, but this is quintessentially my mother. She’s 100% selfish and incapable of putting herself in another person’s shoes and she is always a victim.

When she told me I had been rude to her when I told her that she was making me feel defensive about how I’m handling my health issues, I lost it. I yelled at her and told her I’d get out as soon as possible. I’d tell them I’m homeless if I have to. And I left.

Completely the wrong thing to do. But my god. Family dynamics. You go right back to those old childhood roles. I have grown up a bit, but my mother never has and never will. So now I don’t know what to do. I can’t afford to move out. And the wait lists for affordable housing is 9 to 12 months.

Oh, she did say, “Why can’t we just acknowledge that you and I can’t have these types of conversations. I get upset about what you say to me and you get upset about what I say to you.”

I said, “Actually you’re wrong about that. I have been that way in the past, but not now. If you or anybody else wants to tell me how I’ve been stupid or wrong, please do it and I will stand there with open eyes, ears, and heart and I will process it because I’m growing and changing and you can too.”

I called her within an hour of storming out and told her I was very sorry for losing control of my anger. She mumbled something and said she had to go. I was not sorry for what I said, only how I said it.

Meanwhile it hurts to sit here because my pelvis area throbs when I sit straight up.

I love my husband. I want to be back in my home. I want this lawsuit over with so that we can move on and have a life together. I need space from my mother.

I hate to abandon my father this way, but he knows it can’t be any other way. Mom is the saddest bitterest person we have ever known. My mother is the hot potato. Do I want to get stuck holding her? Her negativity truly sucks the life out of you. I’m not exaggerating.

I’ve decided to do what I can, which isn’t much. Do my taxes. Meet with the attorney about my horrible finances. Get on a waiting list for affordable housing. Write here. Get my website up and running again. Deal with all my health concerns, and hopefully keep swimming, which I haven’t done since Saturday.

I’ve decided not to decide anything since almost all of it is out of my control anyway. I’ve made so many impulsive decisions in my life and for once I just want to do the opposite. I’m going to wait and see. I’m going to stop. Just stop.

Life on Hold

I got so uptight last night worrying about my discomfort and bloating that I called my doctor’s office first thing this morning. The receptionist said I might want to go to urgent care or the ER. I opted for urgent care where I waited 1.5 hours to be seen only to be told that they want to find out what the results are on my STD test before they decide the next step.

And that’s sort of what my doctor said on Friday so I just spun my wheels, I guess. But I feel so helpless and I’m so worried. I feel as though I have cramps, yet I have no uterus.

The good news is that my STD results will be known in just a few hours. If it’s positive, they’ll treat that. If it’s negative they’ll order the ultrasound. Frankly, I think they should do both since I have so many pains all throughout my torso.

For anyone reading this blog for the first time, please know that I can’t recall the last time I had to have any sort of test for sexually transmitted diseases but I recently found out that while I was with my husband, he had other relationship(s) and that I overlapped with them. I just wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

I would almost find it funny if I did have an STD. I’d send him a text, “You and your girlfriend need to get down to Planned Parenthood. Tell your girlfriend I said thanks.”

Still, my heart is broken, since I still love him and I find none of this funny at all.


I wish so much I were sitting across the table from my daughter right now, enjoying her company and eating the Indian food we were going to go have. I’d rather be with her right now than any other person on earth. Thankfully she’s being fully understanding and supportive, unlike my mother.

I don’t want to be disrespectful about my mom by saying too much, but she’s quite a piece of work. She has made it clear this weekend and today that she thinks I’m faking and thinks it’s silly that I went to urgent care.

She kept giving me the 3rd degree and I tried to explain why I went until finally I said, “Mom, I don’t understand why you’re so concerned with how I am doing this. It’s starting to make me feel defensive.” She said, “Oh. Okay.” And she walked away. My mother will now ignore me and pout for a few days because I dared to talk back to her. I didn’t even speak loudly or have a rude tone, I just felt she was really being the opposite of loving and supportive. Why on earth would she have to second guess my course of action? I didn’t ask her to accompany me. I didn’t ask her to pay for it. Why can’t she just be a loving mother?

That is a question that is far too big for this little blog. But it is why I have often withdrawn considerably from my mother over my lifetime. I’m a lot like her, I admit it, but I have worked on being able to face when I’ve been wrong and I’ve worked hard to improve. She on the other hand, never sees her bad behavior.

The doctor at the urgent care suggested I tone down my exercise for a few days. I think that’s a good idea and I was going to do that anyway. I plan to just do laps the rest of this week and skip all the heavy ab work.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about grave illness and death this weekend and it really does make you realize your priorities in life. If/when I get through this, whatever it is, I plan to bring my website back to life, only this time it will be a regional magazine. I have huge plans for it and it won’t cost me much to get started. I pray I get the opportunity.

I just had a small glass of carrot juice and a piece of avocado toast sprinkled with flax seeds. I was starving and hadn’t eaten since dinner last night.

This is one of those moments when I realize how dire my situation is and how pathetic my life is right now. Fifty-six, living with parents, no friends whatsoever. Extreme debt. Cheating husband, possible STD or worse. The only thing that would put me right over the edge right now is if my car broke down.

In spite of all my troubles and worry, I am absolutely convinced that I would be far worse if I hadn’t been eating well, working out, losing weight, and getting the emotional help I need. If I can beat whatever is making me feel ill right now, I will still feel hopeful about my future.

A couple of hours later — STD test came out negative. I was actually disappointed. It would have been so simple if that is all it had been, plus now I don’t get to send that snarky message to my husband. Of course, if I wanted to be really devilish, I’d send him that message anyway. Ah, it’s nice to laugh.

And my life is still on hold.