Hibernation

I've really been searching for the past few weeks for words to describe the way that I feel. I feel like things are changing. I haven't been in the mood to do anything. I just watch mindless television... I haven't posted in a week... I just haven't known what to say. But as I was reading one of my favorite blogs the other day, the author used the exact word that I've been looking for: hibernation. Although I'm desperate for help, I'm blocking people out, isolating, and am hopeless. I just want to go away.

So, I am in HIBERNATION. I don't know what to say to you all, to my friends, to my family, to my therapist... I feel like I just don't know what to say anymore. I've really reached a hopeless point.

I guess this is my attempt at reaching out, wanting connection and understanding because I know you get it all. I'm sorry I've been a bad friend to a lot of people lately, but I'm slowly trying to change my ways and let the light in.

Update

Thought you might want an update:

The dreaded Volunteer Retreat was just as bad as expected. It snowed a foot at the beach and I was terrified that we wouldn't be able to make it home on Sunday afternoon, but praise the all mighty heavens because we did - I don't know what I would have done if I had been stuck there any longer. Well, I don't really know what more to say about the retreat except that it sucked. I hate using up my weekends on these dumb retreats. I need my weekend to myself so that I can recuperate from work, but then when I have a retreat, I need time to recuperate from that - so let's just say that Monday was a bitch.

Last time I briefly told you all that I fired my dietitian. Well, that is now moot because yesterday my T convinced me to go back and give her another try. Now I have an appointment with the D scheduled for February 11th. I have conflicting feelings because I feel like our personalities kind of clash, but I know that she knows what she is talking about and I do want help. She is not all warm and fuzzy and isn't uber sensitive about the whole ED thing (even though she is an ED specialist) - but I know that all this is generally about me, not her. I tend to twist everything around so that I hear that people are calling me fat, no matter what they say (I'm sure you all can relate). I need to chillax, but that is kind of hard when I'm SCARED SH-TLESS about dietary stuff. Ugh, I'm starting to freak out right now just typing this. Breathe. I need to change topics.

On a lighter note, I can't remember if I have already spilled the beans, but I got tickets to see Chelsea Handler!!!!! March 27th, baby!

I Will Survive! Wait - Do I Have To?

The week has just gotten worse and worse from my last post. I feel like I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Today has been especially bad. The icing on the cake? I went to e-mail my roomies that I was having a hard time/mental breakdown (if they only knew how bad it really was, hah) and asked permission to do my designated cleaning chore by Sunday instead of by tomorrow -- but guess what? Instead of sending it to my roomies, I accidentally sent it to the freaking Board Director of my Volunteer Corps - who I a) have only met once and b) already don't like her. Nothing like getting hit when you are already down. Grumble. Grumble.

I'm going to have a terrible weekend too. The Volunteer Corps (that means me) are going on an intimate weekend retreat at a beach house with the Board (including the one I sent the e-mail to). FML. And yes, we are going to the beach in the dead of winter and it's supposed to snow. What are these people thinking???

Well, it's after 1am and I need to go to bed. I spent literally ALL DAY procrastinating applying for scholarships so I have to do that in the morning - they are due on Monday.

So goodnight, peeps.

PS - I also fired my dietitian today (adding to some of that breaking downage), but I don't have the mental/emotional energy to give you the juicy details tonight. Let's just leave it for now that she got my hopes up, dashed them, has a "holier than thou" attitude, and doesn't know as much as she thinks she does. More to come, I promise -- if I survive the winter beach retreat, that is.

Discovery

As I was just writing a very emo e-mail to my therapist, I realized something:

I have something missing inside me. A part of me is gone or was never there in the first place. I don't know too much about it, but it's definitely missing. It's absence causes me pain and heartache. Because it's gone, I can not be comforted. I can't find solace in other people and I can't soothe myself. I need something, someone, to take care of me, but I'm left alone and helpless. I wonder, with this piece missing, can I ever be happy? Will the darkness ever fade into the morning sun? I honestly don't know if that is possible for me in my lifetime.

You Know Your Life Sucks When...

• Reading the new FMLs is the highlight of your day.
• You don't even have an ounce of fun on your mid-week day off.
• It's your turn to make dinner and you're such a sh-tty cook that you are dreading screwing up baked potatoes.
• You try to poop and only rock hard pellets come out - ouch.
• You are finally ready to change your life and your new Dietitian's only advice is to eat more frozen dinners.
• All day all you want to do is watch Season 3 of Dexter but have to file taxes and fill out the FAFSA form instead.
• You bring 8th graders pizza and chicken wings and they still make fun of you.
• You have two gigantic craters of zits on your face, yes they are bright red, and yes, they ARE noticeable.
• You called your mom for support and she just told you all the things you should have done instead.

Well, I'm sure I could think of more, but I have to begrudgingly go to the store now to buy potatoes for dinner...

Peace.

3am

I thought it was going to be great to have the house all to my self this weekend - but the truth is I'm lonely. It's tough to be alone with your thoughts. I've been trying all day to wash away my loneliness with Dexter, Gmail, Facebook, work, food, and FML, but it's after 3am and nothing is working. I should probably just go to bed. But it's funny....I always want to be physically alone, but when I am, I just sink farther into my head. On the other hand, when I'm with people, I often feel detached and mentally alone. The thing is - I don't know if I want to get out of my head or if I want to be happy or if I want to recover.... it's all just so scary. Okay, I can feel the cry-myself-to-sleep tears coming on so I'm just going to read a few more FMLs and go to bed. Goodnight.

Rant

So I'm just a smidge bitter. Okay, more than a smidge. It's 8am and I am the only person in the office (most people - including me - don't come to work around here until 10am). I had to get up almost two hours early to get here when I could be doing this work from home. I should be at home right now sleeping and waiting for hotline calls, but instead I'm here - alone - at the office. I asked my boss last night if I could take my 3 hour hotline shift from home today since I was all caught up with work and am still recuperating - I didn't think it would be a big deal and I was sure that my boss would give me the okay.... until she DIDN'T! She said that she is "concerned" with how much work I've missed (hello, mucho sicko last week, not vacationing in a tropical paradise) and she wants to talk to me about "some things." Let's just say I'm a touch nervous.... and a touch pissed because she isn't going to even be here for another two hours! To top it all off, because I'm in the office alone, the automated lights keep shutting off every five minutes so I have to flail around for a few seconds to get them to turn back on. Not my idea of a good morning.

Whine. Whine. Whine. Grrrrr. Grrrrr. Grrrrr.

No STDs for Me!

Well, here I am, at the office for the first time in 12 days. I wish that was because I was vacationing for 12 days, but no, I was sicker than a dog. And it wasn't just uncomfy, don't feel good sick, it was gross, disgusting, nobody-look-at-me sick. It was also the weirdest sickness I have ever gotten - it took four doctors to diagnosis me and then it turned out to be just a freaking virus!! Virus = can't do sh-t about it, just wait it out. I was at least hoping for some sort of cool diagnosis that I could brag about later. Here were my gnarly symptoms (for those of you faint hearted, you might want to skip over this part):

- Blisters with whiteheads all over my mouth, tongue and throat.
- Opaque yellow layer of who knows what covering my tongue.
- Blisters and sores on my lips.
- Fever.
- Headaches (these are probably because I couldn't get my daily fix of caffeine - stopped cold turkey).

I know it kinda sounds like I got an STD, ewwies, but trust me folks, no STDs for me.

My mouth was in excuriating pain, it hurt to talk, it hurt to swallow, it hurt when I was doing nothing at all. I also had no energy. The only thing I could manage was drinking liquids slowly through a straw. Yay for Propel and chocolate milk! Finally the third doctor I saw finally gave me something for the pain. It's called "magic mouthwash" (some sort of lidocaine cocktail) - it was A- freaking - mazing. It numbed my entire mouth and I could finally get some sleep.

Worst part about it: Guess who had to take vacation days for this? Moi. Grrrrrrrrr.

Breach of Confidentiality

Well folks, I'm literally still recovering from the much anticipated New Year's weekend that ended up being SIGNIFICANTLY WORSE than my Christmas break (didn't think it was possible, but know I know it is). 2009 really beat me to the ground all the way to the end, then the beginning of 2010 thought I still needed a beating. I'm slowly recovering and (and hence haven't been blogging) will delve into the details of my NYE on another post, but for now I'll leave with a little scintillating detail to keep you interested: I still haven't gone back to work yet and won't until at least Monday - it was that bad.

Now, onto what I want to talk about now. Individual therapy should be private and confidential, no? Meaning, when I see Dr. K, it's just her and me in the room. Two people. That's it. Or that's how it's supposed to be...

Not last week though. I was seeing Dr. K for the first time since the Christmas St. Lucia disaster so I was explaining to her what happened when all of a sudden I caught sight of something bolting from behind Dr. K's chair in into the corner. It was really unexpected and really fast, so I wasn't quite sure what I saw but I did know two things:

1. It was mammal-ish and significant in size (we're not talking tiny bugs or anything here)

2. I knew it was not my imagination.

So I stopped mid sentence and told her what I saw and went to further investigate. I got back to the corner and discovered that it was a mammoth sized mouse with a really icky long tail. Now, Dr. K is usually very reserved and restrained, but when I told her it was definitely a mouse, she yelped and broke down and said, "I don't know if I can do this, Kara...." I almost laughed - this couldn't have been better if it was planned! To know a therapist's weakness is always a prize to be found, though often illusive. Now I don't know what I'm going to do now with this information, but I'm sure knowing that your therapist is mouse-a-phobic may come in handy one day.... maybe? maybe?

Thank goodness I was just talking about American Airlines being douchebags and not the inner workings of my mangled heart when the third party arrived - confidentiality was definitely breached. Red Alert!

Final Question: How the hezzel did a mouse get up to the 13th floor of an office building????

Stay tuned for a post about my sucktastic New Year's weekend, if anything else, it will boost your self-esteem.