Field Trip to the Familiar

So I went in for a fill today. I was up 5 pounds. Truthfully, for how bad this last month has been, I got off easy. That and it’s my monthly-bloating time, so the damage may not even be a whole 5 pounds. But still, 5 pounds up is NOT where I should be going. That only makes me about 12 pounds down since LAST AUGUST.

I have debated whether or not to go in and finally bit the bullet and went today. I have been wide open lately. Pizza-open. Bagels-open. If you have a Band, you KNOW that’s wide, wide open.

But I have so much self-doubt. Am I really that open? Or am I just pushing it? I remember what it was like to choke on a bit of bread, so I really think it’s that I need more fill. Or is it that I’m just a failure? As always. As every time before.

My mind wants to hop on the subway to Crazy Shame Town. It’s a free trip for me, on account of all the times I’ve been there. It’s where I get to stop by the Mirror of Doom, throw coins into the Goddess of Numbers fountain, head over to the May-as-Well-Binge all-night diner, catch the cinema double feature of “This Time it Will be Different” followed by “No It Won’t – You’re Forever a Failure”, and wind up the visit with a long walk through the Hang Your Head You Disgusting Blob of Fat park.

The nurse today was the usual mix of encouragement “It’s only 5 pounds – you were on vacation. You’ll get it off no problem” and shame “What are you doing eating crap like that? When you’ve still got 80 pounds to lose like you do, you shouldn’t even let yourself near that stuff!” Um, thanks? Really, does that shame stuff work on folks? If it did, wouldn’t we all be Kiera-Knightly-thin by now? If shame=ability to lose weight, I’d be in rehab with an IV right now, hanging on to consciousness. Is it really helpful to get it from the very same clinic that assured you they were there to help and that they understood why all the shaming/etc of your past didn't work?

I need some focus and some clarity. In a few areas of my life. It’s coming – I hope. Slowly.

How to Have an Anxiety Attack While Visiting a Different Church for the First Time

First, walk in late.
Second, be just under 6 feet tall. And fat.
Third, proudly wear an "Obama '08" button because you are high on the adrenaline from the caucus and feel like it's important to be integrated in your whole life. Think, misguidedly, that wearing the button is a step toward this kind of integration.
Fourth, listen to a main point in the sermon about how people are feeling alienated by some others because of strong political views. Hear about how it is important not to shove things in other's faces, but to bring all things up in relationship. Agree wholeheartedly with the message that being a Jesus-follower has a definite impact on your whole life - including your responsibility to participate in the political process. Feel like a total schmuck because not only are you late, fat, and tall, you have a fricking political button on your vest.
Fifth, try not to be distracted the rest of the sermon by trying to decide whether or not to remove said fricking button. Deliberate in your head what the point was of wearing the button to church anyway. Wish your button said "Vote" instead of "Obama". Decide that would have been a much better way to integrate faith and politics without being a case-in-point for the sermon.
Sixth, decide to not take off the button, dammit. Because you don't want it to be obvious that you are taking it off JUST BECAUSE OF THE SERMON THAT IS DIRECTED AT YOU YOU YOU and you can be a stubborn bitch. Also, you were late and therefore in a seat that no one else wanted so taking the button off would be really obvious. See also "fat" and "tall" above.
Seventh, realize that you have to go up and take communion with the fricking button on. So not only are you exposed to the half of the church that could scrutinize you in the crappy seat, now you get to expose yourself to the ENTIRE CHURCH.
Eighth, slip button off after church while crowd dissapates and you have a conversation with someone you actually know and haven't seen in a long time (which provides enough of a distraction that you don't feel like a TOTAL tool taking off your button).
Ninth, be introduced to the pastor. You are now, thankfully, without the fricking button, but are sure that it is marked on you somehow. Be convinced that the pastor saw you and directed some of his sermon remarks directly at you. Become convinced that the pastor can see directly into your soul, exposing you as a fluffy-faithed, pedicured suburbanite.
Tenth, say stupid things to the pastor, like "being on a spiritual journey" and "working through some stuff with my faith", which leave no doubt that you are a loser and poseur. Wish for the ground to swallow you whole. Realize that you started this potential church relationship off on the absolute worst foot possible.
Eleventh, come back to your blog and brood and cry. Realize that this journey you're on is a bigger deal to you than you thought. Acknowledge that despite all the work you've done, you still have a few issues to deal with. Plead to Jesus for some relief to the anxiety and for comfort and challenge in the next steps.

my pink toes

I'm posting more at my "regular" blog. I have lots I want to say here, but for some reason it isn't coming as easily. You can check me out at "my pink toes" in the meantime.