Unwind the downward spiral.

Wanting to love myself has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my entire life. And wanting to love myself has also left me wanting to love what I want to do. I feel lost, like I've lost all ambition and desire for anything I once loved. Except for Travis. I still love him. Lotses.

But I know what they call this feeling... depression. Depression sucks. And I hate it. I keep thinking about how much I've found love in my Buffalo State sweat pants... and how much I just want to lay in bed, and never move again. How much I think about wanting to get out and play with my external flash that I found. How much I have been thinking about going to the beach and taking pictures again. But I don't want to move.

I felt sooooo good getting out there and working. I thought I had made the right decision. But now, I feel like I totally just shot myself in the foot. I'm hesitant about wanting to find a new job. I'm afraid it's always going to be like this. I can be rough around the edges and talk a lot, and complain about what I want, or if things aren't going the right way. And I got beraded for being overly opinionated and outspoken.

Last I knew, holding your own was something to be proud of. Now I just feel like a horrible person. This is so tiring.

I feel confined.

So, in waking up this morning, after having Travis come home from his new job, I realized just how depressed I feel. After being literally obliterated emotionally by Ed, the owner of Tim Horton's in Victor, this feeling hasn't gone away. I want to do nothing but lay in bed, or lounge around in my Buffalo State sweatpants. Nothing more. I don't want to job hunt, I don't want to go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather... I just want to sleep. And it's a horrible feeling. I feel empty inside, and slightly defeated. Because just when I thought I was going to make good for myself, and go out, get a job, and do well for myself... my world seems to come crashing down and I become a slug. A defeated slug who's confined to her newest pair of dress pants. That bothers me. The whole idea that really the only pair of pants that fits me is my new pair of dress pants. This whole entry isn't making sense... AT ALL. I guess it doesn't matter.

CUT:/

I embarked on the beginning of a life-long journey today. Today, I obtained my credit card from my Mom to go out and buy some bras. Some bras that fit me. In the past few years, I had learned that I can squeeze my large frame into a 38C bra. But that was a time when I weighed a lot less.
Between the end of March, when I started my medication called Wellbutrin and now, I’ve gained probably... 35 lbs. Not including the weight I had put on prior to March, after my Mom had her double bypass. Between that November and March, I had gained about 20 lbs. So in total, I’ve gained a good 50+ lbs. With this weight gain, I’ve become the largest I’ve ever been in my life. I’ve gone beyond my peak weight which was 275 lbs, which I had reached in middle school. With this weight gain, I’ve also acquired a new, horrible outlook. I’ve become self-conscious about every part of my body, and I’ve tried to hide it. I’ve tried to squish myself into clothes that are too tight, pants that no longer fit me, and shirts that have become too short and clingy. This included my lingerie.
For the past few years, I’ve been putting my boobs into a 38C bra, where the cups have fit, and the bands have cut into my sides. I was left with red marks that surround my breasts and my circumference, making me look even less sexy than I already felt. But I had never noticed it until a week ago. So, I decided when I went over to my Mom’s, I would grab my credit card and find a way to make myself feel better. Shopping had been an addiction for me, and it made me feel better in the short term. But now, I wanted to shop to cure an addiction... my self harm.
Though when I went to see my mom the first time and we fought, I didn’t get my card. It was just too much all at once. The fight, not talking to her, taking it without letting her know when she’s paying the bill... I couldn’t do it. But today, I went back to my mom’s house with Travis, and I asked her for it. And that’s when I took my first step in the journey. Travis and I were to meet Chris at the mall, and I thought I’d let the boys have their time, and I’d shop.
I started looking at JC Penny, Sears and the like...and I didn’t get very far. I didn’t find anything in my size... I started to look for a 40B or a 40C. One size up, I could deal with that, since I had learned the other day that now I can fill the cups of a larger band size, which I could never do before. But alas, I found nothing, and eventually parted ways with Travis so he could go with Chris. I then ventured to Lane Bryant to see what I could find. With no luck, I found full price bras. But I was determined not to give up, so I took a look at the clearance rack. I had also decided I was going to hunt down some bottoms, since none of my pants fit any more, either. I found a pair of grey skinny jeans, and I fell in love. They were a size 18, and I thought “Hey, they’re in Lane Bryant, they might fit.” I was going to attempt a bigger size, but all I found were 24s. But the 18s were no avail. They were never going to fit me. So I snuck out of the fitting room to grab the 24s in hopes that they would be just too big for me, and I’d be able to pass on them. But who could pass on a pair of pants from Lane Bryant for $9.99? I couldn’t, because the 24s fit. And I didn’t throw a fit, I didn’t want to cry for once... I didn’t find myself hating myself like I have before. So I felt as though my day was off to a good start.
I then decided I would go to Target, despite my unfortunate stomach ache. As I filtered through Target making a quick stop to browse for pants, I gathered a good five or so bras. Some of them were so cute! I even convinced myself to go for a lace non-molded cup with some leopard print accents. I felt so brave, and with that bra on, so beautiful! Unfortunately, I noticed it did the same thing the 38Cs did, they kind of bunched up around my sides. As did the other bras I had tried on. So, after another handful of bras, I gave up, and decided to look at some undies. I bought some string bikinis and I was on my way.
I decided to go to KMart, and take a look at some of those boxed bras. I know some of them can be kind of ugly, but I found a few that were decent cloth cups with wire. They looked just as normal as any other t-shirt bra, so I thought why not give them a try? I also filled my hands with as many 40Cs as I could get my hands on. I went into the fitting room and I just destroyed it! I had countless bras strewn all over the place while I left my shirt, purse and black bra crumpled up on the bench to pile through all of the bras I had picked out. Unfortunately, not a one fit. But I was determined not to give up. And I found myself picking up another huge handful of 40Cs, still to do that same bunching business under my arms as the others did. Sigh. I knew it was time to move on. So, I took a look at some undies there, and bought some more string bikinis because I was feeling them, and I got my way out of there.
I was exhausted by this point, and I stumbled my way to Dress Barn while talking to Katherine on the phone. I was in and out of there in a heartbeat, for they had no bras. I was disappointed. Fighting my way through traffic to get back to Travis’s to drop off the electronics I had hiding in my trunk. I didn’t want my camera, lap top and wii hiding in the trunk while I was in the city.
Since I hadn’t had any luck what so ever with any bras by now, I put my thinking cap on and went to Wal Mart in Irondequoit. Being in the city has made me realize that they take on a little more weight here, which means they carry bigger sizes in their stores. Though I had found a multitude of larger sizes, I put two and two together and I went one size bigger. I went to a 42C, and I grabbed 5 bras and tried them all on. I had a realization that a 42 band size fits smoothly on my sides in some bras. I had figured out the secret to life! So I piled through two trials of bras, and really only found one that fit. I know my odds for finding a bra that fits is about 1:100, so I was content. Because it all in all made me feel better. My skin wasn’t being pinched in odd places, and I could lift my hands up and down and move around without my bra even moving. What was I thinking prior to this? I then discovered a plethora of even more bras and did some digging. I wanted a black one, and boy was I determined. Unfortunately, no 42s rang my bell without making me look like a grandmother. So I paid for my single $7 bra and I was on my way to the other Target, which unfortunately had a very, very tiny selection.
I guess Target must be the upscale store, not catering to those heavy people, because there weren’t very many bras in sight over a 36 anything. But, there weren’t very many bras there any way. And there never are. However, I did weasel my way into finding a few black bras to try on, and one teal one. None of which fit me. By now, I was almost dead on my feet. I felt as though I was going to pass out, I was so hungry and totally gone. But I had one more store on my list! AJ Wright.
AJ Wright was an inspiration for me to start this journey, since I had bought this one very, very cute bra there. It was bright pink covered in black skulls. However, this one was a 38B, and did more crimping of my skin than any other bra I had ever had. But it was cheap, and it fit alright at the time, so I bought it! But it’s been giving me hell now. I tried on a a few more bras after digging through the large masses of them, and I settled on one. It was red and white striped, and came with cute matching panties. But that was the only one in the bunch that I liked. Not to mention, the pants I wanted to try on didn’t fit either. So, I finally had given up, but not after one last look. But I was NOT trying on ANY more bras. Ever. I found a few more 42Cs, and gathered them quickly. The red and white one was the most expensive, so the others were a bargain!
I was finally able to go home, though. Finally. But not to rest. I ran out the door to Starbucks after eating, and I had to see Travis again at Chris’s. But I got home probably just before 11, and I tried on all of my goodies. After my day of hard work, only three bras fit. And none of the panties did. And I was incredibly sad. But I spent the time taking what fit and sending pics to Trav to make me happy again.
Even though I had an iffy day, with trials and tribulations of accepting myself and looking for new lingerie, I feel good. Unfortunately, I’m in one of those moods where I just don’t want to sleep. I feel like I wasted away a bit of my day, and there’s more to be done. But I feel accomplished for writing this, but I think I have some thinking to do. I may just peruse the Penny Saver for jobs...

"Can you come love me Tuesday?"

I'm not good with sacrifices. Except for goats. Goats I can do. Everything else, not so much. I had to run to the mall tonight to pay my past due balance on my AT&T bill. While I left, I thought I'd stop by and get me a frapuccino. Bad idea. For one, I knew I didn't even want one, but out of such a habit, I stopped any way. But I was reaquainted with why I never get a venti normal frapuccino. For one, it's just too much. I haven't wanted one of those in a long time, and I should have known it would have been a bad idea. Normally, I get them made with soy. It's a little bit more, but, I like it better. The normal ones also come with whipped cream... eugh. I did not need this. And as I walked out of the mall with the drink in my hand I felt self conscious. I knew I didn't want it, I knew I wouldn't benefit from it. The one thing I realized is that losing weight is a sacrifice and a committment; some times even an addiction.

I have an addictive personality. Which is why things like drugs and alcohol scare me. I get addicted to the easiest things... food, shopping/spending money, coffee... lord knows that I could get addicted to much of anything. But the one thing I can't get myself to be addicted to is anything to do with weight loss. Go...figure. But I can say that the thought has never left my head. It never does. Every time I pass a mirror, a window, any sort of reflective surface, I think about it. I think about the situation I have put myself in, and how much it will take to get me out of it. Maybe I'm not ready, maybe I'm not committed enough. I can't committ myself to anything anymore. I can't commit myself to work, to school, to a life change... anything. And at this point... I can't blame anything or anyone but myself...

My hurr is now all one color :]

But that's not what's on my mind. I mean, I'm pretty excited to have my hair basically back to normal, but I've been doin' a lotta reflecting, as usual. Which is the only reason I ever write in this thing, haha. Travis and I have been talking about what's been going on. Mainly, I've been apologizing. I've put the both of us in a super strange position. I have come to terms with the fact that I love David-Shea, but now, I'm trying to hide it. It had come out when I had gone to see him, but I'm not IN love with him. Yes, I truthfully enjoy the positive attention he gives me, but I'm in a relationship. I'm in love with Travis, and nothing has actually seemed to change that. I admit, however, that I had become blinded because of the fights that Travis and I get in.

I have a hard time coping with how he treats me because of my disability. I'm not even sure what it is yet, but the more that I realize the symptoms that I'm experiencing, the easier it is to find out. However, Travis can still say hurtful things, regardless. After having my extremely long talk with Sarah for hours and hours the other night, she opened my eyes to trying to let things all roll off my shoulders. I know why Travis makes fun of me, he doesn't understand what I'm going through, which makes things a little easier to let things roll. Or at least to try to, or want to try to. Who am I kidding? It's a new thing, and I'm going to try. Also, after talking to Sarah, it made what I'm going through all seem okay. It made it seem okay to accept the "nos" that come from Travis, and that we can live two separate lives, but come together for love. I love him, I love him, I love him, what can I say?

It must be nice to love yourself.
You're taking way too long.
And I don't want to worry about it any more.
You're expendable.

Today, I feel anti-social.

I'm constantly repeating myself, and if I'm not, I really feel like I am. Tonight seems awkard, Trav's in bed already, he ate too much and didn't feel well. And I unfortunately took a nap, I fell asleep while watching Angry Beavers, I tried so hard to wake up so many times, and I just couldn't do it. Every time I started a pair of episodes, I'd fall asleep. So it's 11:11, and I'm still wide awake. And feeling guilty as ever. But, not about anything in particular.

I've felt so horrible lately, that I literally feel guilty for eating when I'm hungry. And that's a horrible, horrible feeling to have. What's even harder, is I feel like I'm alone in this battle. Travis I try to explain things to him, but I know he doesn't understand. He gets frustrated and just wants to help. I really don't want him to help, I just want him to be there for me, because truly, there's no way he can help. My therapist... is a totally different story. I understand that I'm supposed to be able to talk to Jim about anything. That's what therapists are there for. But as I've said before, I'm not 100% comfortable talking to him about certain things. One thing being my weight. I guess I'm safe to say this here, since I'm fairly sure not too many people read this. With the feeling of guilt comes the feeling of wanting to stop eating. Completely. There have been thoughts running through my mind like "Just starving myself would be easier than feeling this way." It's super duper hard dealing with this, when I know I need professional help. I feel like my impulsive binge eating has gotten a lot, a lot better recently. And I'm trying to be conscious about what I put into my body. I'm just afraid I'm too far gone.

Katherine and I had a conversation earlier about this sort of thing, I had mentioned just how difficult I find it to transform into being an active individual when I've been lazy and intimidated by exercise all of my life. I wish I had learned the values of a healthy lifestyle when I was younger. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother with all of my heart, and she's a fantastic person, but I've learned that I wish my childhood was different. My mom being a single mom and well, being Dee, was one of those parents who y'know, if she didn't feel like making dinner, it was brownies instead. And even just eating these vanilla wafers while I'm writing all of this makes me cringe and makes my stomach tie up in knots. Being so self aware can be a fantastic trait, but it can also be one that to me, at least, is intimidating. Being self aware isn't nearly as intimidating as going back to school is.

I was talking to my therapist about going back to school Wednesday, and this is a frequent conversation between Katherine and I as well. I'm super, super excited about the idea of going back to school, and being able to outshine those who I am jealous of in my age group who are also trying to be photographers. I know I'm very able, and have great potential, but settling my mind back on going to school (like everything else in the world) is terrifying. I know I need to take it one day at a time, and one step at a time... but I'm almost going so slow that I'm not doing anything in succeeding in going to school. And that's hindering me. The first step I want to take is actually going on a tour of the school. I wanted to go with Travis, but we never seem to find the time to sit down and pick out a date to go. I may wait until classes start, since I'd love to maybe take a peek at a class. Maybe I should just go on my own and fend for myself. That may be the only way to get the ball rolling. I feel also, like I should be batting at other things on my own. Weight loss included. I'm so thrown off by the idea of interdepence (which I have over the years learned a lot about) that I feel like I'm going backwards. I thought my first year of college I had defeated that phobia of asking for help, and doing things with others... but it seems like it's the only way I'm going to get anything done.

I'm so embarrassed by the situation that I am in, that I want to isolate myself and rid of everyone so I'm not embarrassing myself in front of them. That also seems to include Travis. I'm so embarrassed by my size and by the situations that I have encountered that I can't imagine why Travis wants to be with me. He tells me every day that he loves me, but as Apryl asked me the other day... Do I really love myself?

I hate this life. I really, really do. I'm miserable. And there's so much on my mind, and I feel like I don't have a way to vent. I'm over at my Mom's to use the internet, but I feel like I have to hide everything I'm doing from her. I'm afraid she'll want in on what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling. And there's always so much going on in my mind, I don't even know where to begin.

There's a lot on my mind tonight about what I want in the future. I was watching "How Do I Look?" on the Style channel, and it made me really think about how I feel. My mom and I had a talk earlier about my weight. Everything's been revolving around my weight... My mom and I talk about it, I'm embarrassed about it, none of my clothes fit, and I know what I need to do. But I'm just not sure how to do it. I know I need my hand held, and I need someone to push me. Sarah and I recently talked about running together... and I would love it. But I'm afraid. I'm so ashamed of what I've become, how big I've gotten, I literally just want to hide myself. Even though it's summer, I want to just cover up every inch of my skin. I know how to dress, and I know what fits me, and what works for me, but I don't want to own up to what's happened to me. How badly I've let myself go.

How badly I've let myself go....

How badly I've let myself go....

How badly...

I've let myself go.

I've let myself go and I'm scared. And I'm afraid all of this is going to impact my future. I'm afraid I'm never going to be successful. I've been evaluating what I want in life, and I'm afraid I'll never get there.

I want a beautiful home, it doesn't have to be huge, but it's got to have plenty of room for creativity. I want a driveway, about a mile long... I want a gorgeous comfortable bathroom, and a huge bedroom to share my space with my honey, with huge closets for my clothes, my shoes, and to store my mania. I want to be a photographer, and I want my own studio. I want to live comfortably, and never, ever have to worry. I want a movie room with plenty of room for food and friends, and I want my life to change. I don't want to be here any more... it's boring here. And hurtful. And I hate it.

Mania + Hesitation = Ashley

Mania and hesitation make up my life at this very moment. I've been talking with Trav about how terrifying the world is to me, but how badly I want to do a lot. I'm so intimidated by achieving my goals, because I'm afraid of failure. But I'm also intimidated by the simplest things in life. I'm afraid to lose weight, I'm afraid that I'll fail at losing weight, hell, I'm even afraid to just go to the library and get a new library card. I'm intimidated by new places, new people, new things... This is no way to conquer the world.

When it comes to talking about my weight, I avoid it at all costs. And I wish I could avoid it forever, but apparently that isn't going to help my situation. I've become frustrated and disgusted with myself because I've gained so much weight. So much so that I've donned the same pair of pants for like four or five days in a row because I know they fit me, and fitting into some of my clothes is just a struggle and an embarrassment. I've also for the summer given up on wearing shoes. Now, I know that in the summer, you're supposed to wear sandals and what have you, but I hate my feet (a lot less, now). But I've given up on wearing shoes mostly because it's ungodly uncomfortable to bend over and tie them. I know that sounds really pathetic, but my body has gotten so big that just doing everyday tasks is incredibly difficult. Now, I understand wholly the concept of exercise and healthy eating... but I'm having a hard time grasping it on my own. Finding an exercise that I enjoy doing is totally something I also struggle with. Upon not being able to give up my snacks. I've discovered what I love and what I hate in life, and food has become something I love AND hate. Some days, I love eating. Others, I hate food so much, and I wish I didn't have to eat to survive.

I also recently had decided that maybe I should go out and do Weight Watchers again. Back in the day, I lost about 20 lbs in a few months doing it, and I unfortunately gained all the weight back because I wasn't exercising. But I find it incredibly difficult to stick to a routine that requires me to pay attention to detail and to record things. I was recently asked to keep a food log and a mood diary, for my psychiatrist. That's since been put aside, because I frankly just hate doing it. After about two weeks, I just can't do it any more. It's obnoxious, and I hate it. That's why I'm 100% unsuccessful in counting calories, and tracking things. I just HATE it. So, I guess maybe it's not the best thing in the world for me to be doing, really. Maybe I just need to learn how to adjust my life... but that never lasts long either...

When I blog, I have to switch chairs.

Today started off well, and came screeching to a terrible halt in the end. I didn't do much today, but around 3 PM, I went to therapy. I explained (and by explained, I mean took up most of my session) to my therapist that (GOD DAMN THESE SIMPSONS!) I want to go back to school, and that Travis and I are doing well. :) All was well for a little while. Until Travis and I got into a fight, and I broke my phone, and told my mom not to worry about it.

My mom has been driving me up a wall lately. I love my mom to death, but some times, I wish she would just butt out of my business. I've never been comfortable talking to my mom about much of anything personal. I feel as though she doesn't understand me. That is the most pathetic thing I have ever heard in my entire life, and it makes me feel as though I'm a 13 year old who can't wear makeup. Right? Right. I hate it. My mom has never really grasped the concept of my mental issues which I've had stemming in my poor brain and overpowering my life since I was about 11. But to her, it's always been "well, maybe you just need a good cry and you'll get over it." Which I feel may have contributed to the fact that I have always been terrified to feel emotions. And I felt as though being emotional was a sign of weakness. I've learned recently, though, that I can overcome this whole situation. But, when my mom asked me today what was wrong, I did my best not to snap at her. This is something else I have been trying to plow over, keeping my anger under wraps. I feel as though it's gotten easier since I've been on Trileptal. I feel as though I'm becoming more and more stable, logical, and able to think. I feel level headed and just overall content. I've been having to tell others to calm themselves, when usually it's vice versa. Some times, I feel like the world is moving too fast, and at other times, too slow. I wish I had the sketch that my therapist uses to explain all of this to me.

But in feeling logical and level headed and stable, I also feel like I need to relearn my life. I need to retrain my brain to find things to do on my own, after it's been so used to being manic and doing EVERYTHING, and being depressed and not wanting to do anything but lay in bed. I feel "normal," and I'm okay with it. I just need to find things to occupy my mind with. When I'm not with friends, I feel like I need to be stimulating myself mentally. Which is why I'm all for going to school. I plan on looking into RIT, going on a tour, and thoroughly thinking about my major. I think I rushed all too much into college straight from high school with an attitude of knowing what I wanted (or thought what I wanted) to do. And it all blew up in my face. So I'm trying to take it all one step at a time...