As I’m lying here trying to fall asleep, all the keeps going through my mind it’s how depressed I feel. It must be pretty bad if I’m actually thinking that I’m depressed. Since I can’t afford to go to my doctor I have to wait another week or two for my yearly physical. I have been doubling up on my Citalopram which is the generic for Celexa. Today A co-worker came up to me and asked if I was depressed so it must be pretty obvious. I really appreciated that she cared enough to check in on how I was doing. All I feel like doing is sleeping and eating. If I didn’t need to pay my bills I don’t think I would even be able to get up out of bed to go to work everyday. I either cancel plans that I made with friends or I just don’t make any plans in the first place because I know that I don’t feel like socializing with anyone. It’s pretty bad when you feel like being in-patient at Dublin Springs would be a break from life. I thought that adopting my rabbit Daniel would help with my loneliness but it hasn’t. When I emailed my husband to ask him if he was sure that he didn’t want to work on our marriage and get back together part of me was hoping he was willing to give it another go. We had been getting along so well, since I moved out in July, so I thought there was still a chance. I don’t really know what else to post right now so I’ll just sign off and hope that I can fall asleep.
Haven’t posted in awhile but I’ve been feeling pretty shitty lately and it all revolves around my joining of Weight Watchers. Although I have lost 7 pounds in the last 5 weeks I am obsessed with food. All I can talk about with my friends is: what I can’t eat, when I can’t eat, and how much I obsess over my food choices. I quickly came to the realization that I have nothing else going on in my life except for the fact that I’ve joined Weight Watchers and I’m trying to lose weight. The program they rolled out called Freestyle is not supposed to feel like a diet but that’s exactly how it feels to me. I don’t understand how having a couple scrambled eggs, a piece of turkey sausage, and a low-calorie English muffin is not a good food choice (compared to the shit I usually eat for breakfast).
For lunch I have a packet of tuna (along with some leaf lettuce) on some organic toast. On top of that I have one hard-boiled egg and a diet ginger ale. I’m not a big pop drinker so I might have 5 cans a week (total) during my lunch at work. One of the reasons that I am struggling is because my church group does a potluck every Sunday (after our church service in the evening). We also have a potluck every Friday night after our weekly Bible study. All I do is look at all the food and upset myself with everything that I shouldn’t eat. When I do eat something I have a small portion but then beat myself up for making a poor food choice. I know I shouldn’t be bitching because I have lost 7 lbs but this is not a way I can continue to live my life. I would like to have one thought during the day that doesn’t involve what I’m going to eat next or what I’m not allowed to eat because it’s too many points. I would love to have a conversation with one of my girlfriends that doesn’t revolve around me talking about myself and my diet. I would like to have a turkey sandwich on organic whole-grain bread right now but I have already eaten all my points for the day because I had 4 miniature Reese’s cups and 2 mini cupcakes for Valentine’s Day (that my boss brought in). I’m actually hungry to the point that my stomach will start to growl soon and all I can think about is how I can go to bed early and not have to worry about eating for the rest of the night.
I think there has to be a way that I can be more mindful of what I eat, and make better food choices, instead of feeling deprived all the time. 😦 Well that’s it for now.
Well I am back and feeling super grateful tonight. As I lie here in my 2 bedroom 1 bathroom apartment (with a basement) I worry about things like how am I going to pay for a higher gas bill because I have my thermostat set at 60 degrees Fahrenheit? I wonder if I eat less, which would be better for me anyway, will I be able to stretch my short-term disability checks (which are 60% of my pay) until I go back to work on January 15th? Then I think about the negative temperatures outside (here in Columbus, Ohio) and realize just how grateful I am that I have a place to call and and a thermostat to keep it comfortable. I’m grateful that I have a car with some gas in it in case I have to go to the store or to a doctor’s appointment. I’m thankful that I have health insurance, through my job at Safelite, and I’m SO damn grateful for my relationship with Jesus my Lord and Savior.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent (but my closest friends know what his real name is).
I was working a lot of hours at MidAmerica Packaging in 1995. I was living at home and paying $100 a month in rent (which looking back was a great deal since I my Mom did my laundry and I had all my meals provided).
I was about 25 years old and had been dating my boyfriend Hugo off an on. In the course of our dating, he broke up with me 6 times. I always attributed this to his mom. She didn’t like that I wasn’t Italian or Catholic. I would exclaim “everyone likes the Hungarians” and “I’m not any religion right now”.
Well, it was around the end of April that I took a pregnancy test and it was positive (in the case of pregnancy tests, positive is not always a good thing). In my case it was bad as I had smoked pot 2 times with Hugo recently. Also, in addition to my 45-60 minute drives to Twinsburg, Ohio, I was working 10-12 hours per day. I had trouble falling asleep (this was before Ambien), so I was drinking Vicks® NyQuil® on a nightly basis.
I talked it over with Hugo and he said he would support whatever decision I made. I talked to my Mom about it, and she told me that if I had the baby he probably wouldn’t stick around. My Mom also told me that they had already raised 1 grandchild and wouldn’t help me one bit if I had the baby. I knew I couldn’t afford to do this by myself and I was also very fearful as to what my recent habits would do to the fetus.
I made the decision (at almost 7 weeks pregnant) to have an abortion. Hugo paid the entire $400+ and my Mom had us use her Discover card, so she could earn points/miles. (Many years later I worked through my issues of not feeling guilty about the abortion and feeling angry with my Mom having us use her Discover Card). This was done via a workshop at my church Xenos Christian Fellowship. It’s called H.E.A.R.T. which stands for Healing the Effects of Abortion Related Trauma.
We went for our “appointment” in Boardman, Ohio. After checking in at the front desk we sat down for a long wait. At one point, I was told that the doctor had to leave to deliver a baby and did I want to reschedule. I advised I’d wait as long as it took. I went into my counseling appointment and don’t really remember anything I was asked or what my answers were. The doctor returned from the hospital and I made my way into the back. I was given a twilight (not like the vampire/werewolf movie) sedation.
I do remember feeling what I call pain, but the doctor said it was pressure. Many years later, my gynocologist dilated my cervix to see if I was a candidate for an IUD. THAT was painful and reminded me of the abortion procedure. I don’t remember much but I remember the nurse holding my hand and trying to comfort me throughout. When the doctor said he was done they had me sit up. I immediately vomited. Thank goodness for no food or drink prior to the procedure!
After we left, I noticed an ARBYs restaurant near the Southern Park Mall. Hugo went through the drive thru and bought me some roast beef sandwiches. We got back to my parent’s house and they gave me use of their bed to recover. The weirdest thing that I remember was the movie we were watching: “Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves” or was it “The Three Musketeers”? All I know is Bryan Adams singing the main song. I might be remembering wrong, but my Mom might have made one of my favorite meals. They’re Hungarian crepes called Palacsinta. We always had them with jelly or jam in the middle. My Dad still makes them and it’s always a special treat when I come home to visit.
Sometime after that, Hugo broke up with me. I guess my Mom was kind of right when she said he wouldn’t stick around if I kept the baby. He was going to leave no matter what. We ended up getting back together at one point and I asked him if he had ever told anyone. He said he had told his parents! I was VERY upset (to say the least). As if they didn’t already dislike/hate me enough, now they had a real reason! He was on the verge of tears telling me that I had girlfriends I could talk to about it and he had no one except his mom & dad.
The final straw aka 6th breakup happened in late 1998. We met at Ruby Tuesday’s. As he walked me out to my car, he told me we “needed to talk”. That always meant he was breaking up with me, so I knew I was done for good this time. I ended up making the decision that I would move back to Columbus, Ohio in 1 year if I still wanted to move there as badly as I wanted to right then.
I ended up making him a CD on which I had recorded the song “River of Tears” by Eric Clapton. The lyrics perfectly described how I felt:
It’s three miles to the river
That would carry me away,
And two miles to the dusty street
That I saw you on today.
It’s four miles to my lonely room
Where I will hide my face,
And about half a mile to the downtown bar
That I ran from in disgrace.
Lord, how long have I got to keep on running,
Seven hours, seven days or seven years?
All I know is, since you’ve been gone
I feel like I’m drowning in a river,
Drowning in a river of tears.
Drowning in a river.
Feel like I’m drowning,
Drowning in a river.
In three more days, I’ll leave this town
And disappear without a trace.
A year from now, maybe settle down
Where no one knows my face.
I wish that I could hold you
One more time to ease the pain,
But my time’s run out and I got to go,
Got to run away again.
Still I catch myself thinking,
One day I’ll find my way back here.
You’ll save me from drowning,
Drowning in a river,
Drowning in a river of tears…..
One year later I was still jonesing for Columbus, so I moved down in October of 1999. I think I mailed the CD to Hugo (maybe it was a cassette tape), but I never saw or heard from him again. There have been sightings by my Dad (who saw him last year in the Marc’s store in Niles and my friend Paula who saw him walking at a local park). I hear he got married and my Dad said his son was around 3 years old when he ran into him. I couldn’t imagine being around 50 years old and having a 3 year old (that wasn’t my Grandson)!
Next month in October it will be 20 years since my baby would have been due. I don’t dwell on it too much as I have made my peace with my decision. I also know that since I have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, that I have been forgiven for the abortion.
The title of this blog posting will come as quite the shock for almost all of my readers. I suffered with an OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) eating disorder called “pica”. (Sounds like formica)
According to Wikipedia: “Pica is characterized by an appetite for substances that are largely non-nutritive, such as paper, clay, metal, chalk, soil, glass, or sand.”
“The scant research that has been done on the causes of pica suggests that the disorder is a specific appetite caused by mineral deficiency in many cases, such as iron deficiency…Often the substance eaten by someone with pica contains the mineral in which that individual is deficient. More recently, cases of pica have been tied to the obsessive–compulsive spectrum, and there is a move to consider OCD in the etiology of pica. However, pica is currently recognized as a mental disorder by the widely used Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV).”
I shamefully hid the fact that I ate paper for over 8 years. It started in 2008 (I think) after I got robbed at the Giant Eagle Getgo gas station. I was working at The Wasserstrom Company during the day and Getgo at night. I was rinsing my hands in the utility sink near the door that enterered into the “employee only” area. The door was partially cracked open when a man came barging through and guiding me around the corner and in front of the cash register. He “gently” pushed me down to my knees in front of the safe and wanted me to open it. I advised him that we don’t have access to the safe, so he moved me back up to the register & I gave him all the currency we had. I think it was less than $100. If it had been more (I think $125 or higher) I would have been fired for not dropping the excess money into the safe. It was over so quick that I didn’t even know he was grabbing packs of cigarettes from the shelves behind me. He ran out the door and I called the police and locked the door.
Yadda, yadda, yadda the police came to Wasserstrom (maybe it was 2007?) down on Front St and showed me a lineup of pictures. After carefully studying them, I pointed to the man who had robbed me. It turns out he was known by the Grandview Heights Police department. He had recently gotten out of jail/prison and had a drug problem. I later found out that his own family had turned him after seeing him on TV for robbing the UDF (United Dairy Farmers for everyone else) down the street. According to his family, he could not have robbed me as he was home trying to detox (my word). I think they said he was home trying to “get off the crack”. I think he went to jail, but I was scared shitless as I always worked by myself from 6pm-11pm.
After a short time I asked for a transfer down to the Giant Eagle store. I worked as a cashier, but after a while I went back down to the Getgo because I really loved how easy the job was. I started eating paper at some point (either before I went to the store or when I went back to Getgo). I would get it out of the printer tray or take it out of the pack of printer paper (the kind from OfficeMax® Office Depot®). I would tear it into strips and then small pieces and pop it into my mouth and chew. I would swallow (keep your minds out of the gutter LOL) and then do it all over again.
I got to the point that I would also eat lined notebook paper. I’m sure the ink wasn’t good for me, but I couldn’t stop. I got so desperate that I would find any piece of paper and tear off the part that had printing on it and eat it. The only time I got “busted” was by my old supervisor Jeff Evans (at Wasserstrom). I had just put some paper in my mouth when he came into my cubicle. He asked if I had just put paper into my mouth and I told him that it was gum. This shame didn’t deter me.
On January 23, 2009 I was one the first three people laid off from The Wasserstrom Company. We were told the reason was due to the “economy” and not because of anything we had done. Shortly after that I met Brian Sexton (who would become my husband 2 1/2 months after our 1st date).
I hid my pica from him for quite some time, but I don’t know exactly how long it was until he “found out”. I was so embarrassed and ashamed. He was worried about how it would affect my health…he really cared about me and was genuinely concerned about me. He urged me to tell my family doctor and I did.
Dr. Weiss said it was pica and probably due to an iron deficiency. He put me on a slow release iron tablet, but I hated that it made my poop blackish-green. Also, I missed eating my paper, so I quit taking the iron. The pica got progressively worse and I got up to the point where I was stealing paper from work or from our home printer to “support my habit”. I ended up needing to make sure I’d have paper wherever I was going. I secretly started buying the packs of paper at Target and keeping it in a bag in my car.
I went to a therapist who said it was a form of OCD and that I’d need Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy/CBT. See link for info: http://ocdla.com/cognitivebehavioraltherapy
I didn’t have the money to pay for this and my health insurance wouldn’t cover it, so I looked into checking into an inpatient program at OSU’s Harding Hospital. They offered help to people with anorexia, bulimia, etc. but nothing for pica.
I then went to Overeaters Anonymous meetings and at first it was freeing to share my struggles with people who accepted me (and didn’t judge me). But as time went on, I felt the program (and rightly so) was focused on people who had issues with food. I also had a problem with being overweight, but I had progressed to the point that I would rather eat paper than have a piece of Godiva® Chocolate Cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory.
Next, I tried hypnotherapy at Positive Changes Hypnosis of Columbus. I put the $800 fee on my credit card and was very open to this. I was able to be hypnotized and I was able to quit eating paper for 5 weeks. Since I couldn’t afford to continue going I had to quit. Guess what happened next? You guessed it…I started eating paper again! 😦
In 2014, I finally confessed to my wonderful dentist (of 13 years)Dr. Jeffrey Gibbs about my pica.
http://www.camelotdentalgroup.com/ I was embarrassed because I thought I was possibly damaging my teeth with this 8 year habit, but I still couldn’t stop! I was in constant turmoil about being so weak and having a disorder that isn’t widely recognized by the general public. I was now up to about 20+ pieces of printer paper a day and was eating more paper than food as it filled me up.
Remember when I said I stopped taking my iron supplement because I didn’t like having blackish-green shit? At this point, I was constantly constipated because I was consuming more paper than regular food. I almost didn’t want to stop because I was at my lowest weight of 238 pounds. I was so fucked up that my brain seemed to tell me that it was better to eat paper than to gain weight!
I was working through Intellisource Staffing at a warehouse for Zulily. I started doing put away of items and then I moved to the picking area (picking items not my nose). 🙂 I was working (4) 10 hour shifts Wed-Sat and along with my diet of paper had maintained 238 pounds with no additional exercise outside of working hours. We walked about 8 1/2 – 9 hours a day, so it was quite the workout. Then everything changed on December 17, 2014.
I had REALLY been struggling to make it through the day at Zulily. I had started my shift that Wednesday morning at 6am and by about 8am I could barely push my cart and do my job. I found my lead Demba and told him I was going to the Mt. Carmel East emergency room. I also had pain in my abdomen from one side to the other. I called my husband and drove myself to the hospital.
Long story short…I had a CT scan, x-rays, 2 kinds of ultrasounds (transabdominal and transvaginal pelvic). The latter are definitely my favorite kind because the technician hands me a giant dildo (with lubricant on it) and I get to put it into my vajayjay. Of course they found ovarian cysts, but I’ve always had them so I wasn’t concerned. Then the pièce de résistance was the upper endoscopy. Wait!!! I almost forgot about the transfusion of 2 units of blood!
I grew up a Jehovah’s Witness and we don’t believe in blood transfusions. I used to carry a card stating my refusal to ever get one.
Even though I haven’t been a part of the religion since I was 18 years old (I quit and wasn’t dis-fellowshipped), I still seriously considered whether or not to get a blood transfusion. From www.jw.org
“This is a religious issue rather than a medical one. Both the Old and New Testaments clearly command us to abstain from blood. (Genesis 9:4; Leviticus 17:10; Deuteronomy 12:23; Acts 15:28, 29) Also, God views blood as representing life. (Leviticus 17:14) So we avoid taking blood not only in obedience to God but also out of respect for him as the Giver of life.”
So it turns out that I had a bleeding ulcer. The doctor told me that I needed to stop taking 3200 mg of ibuprofen a day. Towards the end of my hospital stay I received an IV infusion of iron. After three days of being in the hospital, I was ready to go home and sleep in my own bed. I was to return to work on December 20 but I ended up getting a new doctor’s excuse from the hospital that allowed me to take one more day off so I could rest.
At that point from December 17 and forward, I never ate another piece of paper again! As of yesterday on September 3 it had been 260 days. I don’t really have the cravings anymore and I have a follow-up doctor’s appointment on Wednesday, September 9 as the iron prescription by Dr. cauldron for me was the way less than milligrams than what the hospital had prescribed.
So this is been a very long blog and I hope I haven’t bored you too badly. I have my Dragon naturally speaking voice recognition program up and running. I bought it about six months ago and never used it, but now that I have this blog I’m going to be using it a lot more. And remember…
You don’t to be lonely with FarmersOnly.com
Hard to believe that I’m almost 46 years old (in December) and I’m STILL going through perimenopause which means “around menopause” and refers to the time period during which a woman’s body makes its natural transition toward permanent infertility (menopause).
Each month I hope that my Aunt Flo doesn’t pay a visit because I might be that much closer to “official” menopause.
Per http://www.mayoclinic.com: “Once you’ve gone through 12 consecutive months without a menstrual period, you’ve officially reached menopause, and the perimenopause period is over.”
I once went over 3 months with no period but then it came in the 4th month and I was pissed to say the least. Then the 12 months start back at one.
I can’t remember when I got my first period, but I think it might have been 7th or 8th grade. I also needed to be wearing a bra, but wore oversized sweatshirts to hide my ever-growing bosoms as I have pretty much been more of a tomboy than a lady.
Two of my “favorite” symptoms include: Hot flashes and sleep problems. “Many women experience hot flashes during perimenopause. The intensity, length and frequency vary. Sleep problems are often due to hot flashes or night sweats, but sometimes sleep becomes unpredictable even without them.” NO SHIT!
I’m currently on Minivelle which is touted as “The World’s Smallest Estrogen Therapy Patch”. I also take Progesteron orally each night. I sure notice a difference when I’m late in changing my patch as the hot flashes get worse, so I’m trying to stay on my Monday/Friday schedule as best as possible.
Well, enough about my monthly cycles…until next time.