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.

My Christmas "Vacation"

I was really looking forward to to my holiday break this year. I NEEDED a break. I was only able to take four days off work, but I was definitely looking forward to some much needed ME time. That's when I found out that my family booked us tickets to St. Lucia. Sounds good right? Exotic, tropical island in the middle of nowhere, relaxing on the beach, swimming with the dolphins (actually that concept really freaked me out, but anyway it still sounds like paradise)... Part of me was excited to go, but I huge part of me didn't want to go because tropical island + bathing suit + ED = Absolute t-e-r-r-o-r. Plus I would have much rather use my vacation time to relax, do nothing, sleep and watch trashy TV.

Well, I didn't do ANY of those things. Here's now my break really went down:

- Never making it to St. Lucia because American Airlines SUCKS - instead spending two days stuck in the Miami airport until we then decided to just go home. (Note: so that's TWO days of my vacation wasted in an airport).

- Returning home and finding the furnace in my house broken so it was below 35 degrees in there so I had to stay at my parent's house - so much for Me time, sigh.

- My bro hogging the TV to watch endless sports anaylsis shows, and even if I could watch TV, only lame Christmas movies where playing.

- No sleeping in for me - not allowed at my parent's house (along with hooded sweatshirts - don't ask).

- On the last day of my break having to endure a 3 hour party that turned into a 5 hour party, not getting back to my own house until after 11pm (furance is fixed though so yay!), having to unpack and then wake up and go to work early this morning.

My only saving grace is that I only have to go into the office three days this week. Downside: I have 23 hours of after hours work this week - including 6pm-midnight on New Years' Eve. Le Sigh.

I just can't win.

The Blame Game

I've decided that my job is at least partly to blame for me not blogging as much. I work 8-9 hours a day, which for a lot of people is normal, but it is ultra taxing on me. I feel like because of my depression and ED, I'm carrying a giant backpack of rocks while I'm trying to do my job. I know that sounds like I'm making excuses, but as many of you know, it's really hard to go to get out of bed, much less go to work when you are depressed. I love aspects of my job, like engaging with the teenagers, but I hate the other stuff - paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. I swear non-profits funded by the government and other grants are required to have an ABSURD amount of paperwork and documentation. Anyway, so my job is partly to blame for me not blogging because when I get home I don't want to do anything (I'm just not unpacked and I moved into the house a month ago!). I just want to sit in front of the TV and zone out. I don't even watch my favorite TV shows anymore (House, SVU, Desperate Housewives) because they take too much concentration. Instead I turn to TLC and E! - the no brainer networks (not to say that they don't have quality viewing - yay for Chelsea Handler!).

Other news:

- Having Thursdays off was supposed to end last week (and I've been scared shitless about it), but I think it's going to continue indefinitely. But I'm having a meeting with my boss about it tomorrow.

- I'm going to start seeing a dietitian again - but a different one. I'm going to try doing exchanges. I've never tried this approach before so I hope it works - because I'm a touch out of control and tres sporadic.

Alright, I need your support to help get my blog going again! It really is therapeutic for me and I love your comments and your support. Consider me in the blogosphere once again!

Up

Because I can't quite handle the pressure of my job, my boss has given me Thursdays off for a month. Yeserday was my third Thursday off, so I only have one more before I have to go back to work full-time. I'm scared.

Here is how I spent my off day yesterday:

1:00pm - get out of bed.

1:15pm - Spent FOUR hours watching TV including, but not exclusively "My Fair Wedding" (yay TLC) and "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant (I think I'm addicted to the show in a oh-my-hell-if-I-get-preggers-right-now-I-will-shoot-myself sort of way - fear glues my eyes to the TV screen, I try to pull away, but I can't). Tres addicting.

5:30pm - I manage to get my out of the house, but only because my roomie needed a ride to the metro and I was the only one home. This was a good thing because then I want to the pharmacy to pick up an oh so important prescription. Although, I refused to put on a bra for the trip.

6:30pm - plop down in front of the TV and didn't get up for almost FIVE more hours. This time I watched serious trash TV - The Real Housewives of Orange County - yikes, I know. I did end my day with Chelsea Lately, one of my favorite shows, but she and the other comedians were a little too raunchy so I only watched half the show. :(

11:20pm - go to bed.

Even though all I wanted to do was to do nothing all day, it was a very unsatisfying day - it went by way too fast. As I lied down in bed last night, I thought to myself, at least tomorrow is Friday...

Today (Friday): BAD DAY FROM THE GET-GO:

- I waited in a really looooooong line at Starbucks only to get up to the front and realize that they didn't have bananas to make my smoothie. I went away empty handed.

- On the way from Starbucks back to my office, carrying two over sized bags, I totally biffed it in the middle of the street. This was a full on biff - I was down for the count. My bags went flying and the whole right side of my body hurts.

As Shawnia Twain says, "you can only go up from here." I hope she is right.

Stitch up my Damn Leg!

I've erased several blog post attempts and I'm still not sure what I want to say. I feel so different now. There has been so much pain and sadness and lonliness and anger, that I haven't gotten any gems of wisdom from Dr. K. We have just been processing (whatever the hell that means) my feelings. So when thinking of topics to write about, talking about what I learn from my sessions with Dr. K is out. The rest of my life is comprised mostly of hauling my ass to work, crying at my desk all morning, going out to schools, coming home from work and going to sleep. I am isolating from everyone - my real-life friends, my online friends, and my blogger friends. It's just that everything seems so H-A-R-D. You know that feeling where it takes all your energy just to do one simple thing - I feel like that's every minute of my life right now. I'm on the lowest maintenance phase, doing as little as I have to to get by. It's a big success when I shower. My family and I are going to St. Lucia for Christmas, but I'm not even excited. Sigh.

I have therapy in an hour and I don't know what to talk about. Yeah, I'm sure that it's beneficial to feel my feelings (shiver, shiver) and process them with her - but that's NOT helping in the short-term. Maybe years down the road I will reap the benefits of feeling my feelings, but right now I need a help. SOS, dude! It's like I have a gaping wound and the doctor is refusing to stitch it up. At least stitch it up halfway, man! I'm dying here. Something needs to change so that I can function better. Hopefully I'll have some ideas from Dr. K today.

Off to therapy. Then I'm going home to watch TV and sleep. That's all I do these days.

Slump dee Dump

Dearest readers, I'm sure by now you have all noticed that I'm in a blogging slump. I think I can attribute it to several things:

- This full-time job is KICKING MY ASS

- Currently moving is stressing me out (yesterday and today I have off work and I have not lifted a finger to finish moving my stuff, yesterday I slept all day instead and today it's 1pm and I still haven't done anything so now half my stuff is in my new place and half in my old place). Damn moving, damn damn damn.

- Therapy has been really hard lately. I've been angry at Dr. K many times over the past two months and it's really been affecting me and bringing up deeper issues that frankly I don't want to deal with.

So please hang in there with me peeps, hopefully I'll be back on track soon.