The forced inactivity caused by my pain, combined with the insomnia and somnolence brought on by the change in my meds and my pain, has contributed to yet another 10-pound weight gain. I am now 50 pounds heavier than I was at my lowest weight. I am frustrated. I was in a size 14 at my best. Today I put on a pair of size 20 jeans for the first time since last spring and they feel like sausage casings. I put them away and pulled out another skirt.
I want to exercise.
I want not to eat so much.
I want to sleep and have energy.
I want to feel like I have a purpose.
I'm whiny and hormone-y and I'm not happy that I'm going to have to buy a pair of size 22 jeans for chores this year. Maybe I'll just do them all in dresses and change after I'm done getting all dirty. Dresses are a lot more forgiving.
Part of the problem is that my waist is not how the clothes-makers feel it should be in proportion to my hips. Either my waist is too big for my hips, or my hips are too small for my waist. If I get the pants to fit the hips, they won't go around my waist. If I get them to fit the waist, the crotch hangs halfway to my knees and I feel like my hips are lost in a sea of fabric.
My brain is not right. The drugs and the stress of knowing they think I'm incompetent while considering me possibly well enough to go back to work in March have really messed with my head. I forget simple things and obsess over stuff that really isn't all that crucial. I dunno...it's just all weird.
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