I should probably start this post with a WARNING.
I'm writing it because I believe it will be cathartic, when really I'd prefer to be fetal positioning it somewhere with a box of wine. Yeah, I said box. But like a classy box, I haven't totally lost it. I'll start with the good and end with the bad. That's nice of me, eh?
MY BOOK: Whaaaa? Writing a book has been a dream of mine for many, many years. I just never knew where to start or how to do it. I even once Googled "How to write a book?" Ha! With the help of SMU's Writer's Path program, I completed the first draft of my novel last week!! For the revision class I am taking, we had to print it out and put it in a binder. It was a lot of pages, so I had it printed at FedEx. When I picked it up, I could not stop smiling or staring at the pages in front of me. The check out guy probably thought I was nuts, but who cares? It is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. I hope people like it. I like it. It's my baby, and I'm proud of what I've accomplished.
LOVE YOUR SPACE: What she mean by dat? I've learned a lot since stepping away from nursing and entering this new chapter of my life. I know I've touched on this before, but I was not in a good place last year. I was depressed, anxious, and just genuinely blah. In the three short months I've been away from the bedside, I've been trying to take care of myself a bit better. Find things that make me happy and hold on to them. Last week, I was talking to my mom about how I felt my living room was so dark and blah. I might have used the words "opium den." Well, crafty Kim's mind started ticking away, and we went to work. We white-wash painted my brick fireplace, got some new decoratives, a new TV stand, and painted one wall for a pop 'o color. The room is much brighter, and there is a lightness to it that makes me smile. When you're trying to find your happy, make your space reflect the life you want. Love your space.
Ok... on to the pity party.
FUCKITY FUCK FUCK PCOS: Seemed like it needed that many F words. Sorry. (I'm not really) Anywho, my body is a lovely piece of work. In February (maybe January? Where is the time going?), I went to see an endocrinologist. Mostly because, as of now, we aren't trying to have a baby. So, seeing a fertility specialist isn't quite what I needed. I've gained like a shit-ton of weight in the past 5 years, but really in the past 2. Then over Christmas, I gained 18 pounds in a month in a half. I was having horrible hot flashes, terrible anxiety, and I pretty much said "I'm done." I sent a message to my "family doctor" telling him my concerns, and he emailed me back with a paragraph about calories in, calories out. Thank you, asshole. After the blackness cleared from my vision and my fists unclenched, I promptly fired him and went in search of other help. I found Dr. Bajaj and his colleagues (Diabetes and Thyroid Center of Fort Worth) through a friend (thanks Brandi), and I really liked him! He listened to me, he told me I wasn't crazy, and he actually had a plan. We did lots of extensive lab work (not just checking my TSH). He checked all my hormones, and of course they were all out of whack. I have PCOS, which I knew, but every time I hear it, the words beat me down.
I'm not going to lie to you guys, I haven't accepted this. There isn't enough help out there for those of us with PCOS. It's frustrating. Many doctors don't seem to understand it. There are days when I hate my body. That I get so damn mad that it won't perform how it's supposed to. I know we aren't trying to have kids right now, but I can't even get excited about it because I know how difficult it will be to conceive. I know we will have to use IUI and most likely IVF. I don't want to. It's one of the biggest reasons why I haven't moved forward with that part of my life yet. Because I'm pissed off. Since March 1st, I've eaten strictly Paleo. No dairy, no grains, no processed sugar. The only "cheat" I've had is alcohol. I've stayed very true to myself. Today I went to the doctor and I haven't lost a single pound. Not one single F-ING pound. I'm really discouraged. But I'm not going to give up. A good friend told me to focus on what matters. That I feel better. Throw away the scale. So that's what I'm going to do. Focus on the good, and keep pushing along. Keep trying. Keep telling my body to buck up. Sorry for the MEH. Sometimes I need to talk about the MEH.
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How's life going for you all? I hope everyone has a wonderful week!
Until next time,