Make some changes and get a life

19 days into the new year and nothing has changed. I feel so stagnant, almost paralysed. Change is obviously what I need but so much fear holds me back from doing anything. I'm tired and bored and irritate easily.

I need to get a job.

I'm the only one who can take the turn off.
Picture borrowed from Lifehack.org

Yuck! I wrote those couple of lines above a few days ago. Nothing has changed but I don't feel as desperate as I did on Thursday. At least I don't think I do.

Mum and dad have taken Noo away for a couple of days so I can have a break. I miss him badly already. Whenever I drop him at school I don't feel bad. I know he loves preschool. But for some reason I'm racked with mother's guilt this afternoon. I feel guilty for shipping him off. For feeling like a need a break from parenting.

People have started to notice I'm not feeling 100%. My parents and even a couple of my friends have asked if I am ok. I don't know what to say. Most people think I have an easy life. I only have one child and I don't work and I live with my parents. Life should be simple right?

These are the things that are worrying me at the moment:

1. My diet is shocking. I have sugar everyday. I crave it. My band is in the perfect place. I have to eat slowly, consciously chewing small mouthfuls of non starchy foods. Oats and prunes for breakfast, salad for lunch, protein and veggies for dinner. Great. I'm satiated after about an entrée size portion. Even better. The problem is in between meals I crave snacky stuff like popcorn or lollies and I never resist the bad stuff. Also after dinner I have to have chocolate or ice cream or both. Usually I have a small cone with low fat vanilla ice cream with crushed peanuts and Ice Magic on top. To die for... literally.

My weight is hovering around 80-82kg. I have been this weight most of my adult life. While it is so much better than being between 100-102kg I'm still 10kg short of my goal. I feel fat and ugly. I feel like I'm aging so fast now. I feel like I've wasted the best years of my life being fat. Who cares if I'm a bit overweight when I'm old? Now is when it matters. Especially seeing as I'd like to find a 'mate'. And I don't want a fat partner either. I think it is disgusting if I'm honest. My gut, my legs, my arse, my arms. Fucking disgusting. I find it completely repellent on a man too. I'm not saying I need a perfect Michelle Bridges 12 fucking wbt body. Just a normal size 12 would be awesome. Why the fuck then can't I stick to any diet? Why do I shove that chocolate in my gob, order that ice cream, buy those lollies, bake those chocolate chip bikkies? Why?

2. Exercise is currently not a part of my life. But I want it to be. Fear holds me back. I bought a 10 pack of visits to Fitness First that I have to use before March. I went the first time last year when I was attempting 12wbt. I liked the class but the gym scared me. Living in the city the nearest gyms to me are obviously frequented by city workers. I went to the Bond Street Fitness First and it was full of hot men and women who were so fit and fabulous and generally intimidating for a fatty like me. Sounds like such a bad excuse, and it is I know, but I can't seem to get past it. I haven't been to our gym downstairs either. I'm just so fucking slack. Slack and lazy.

3. Uni has started freaking me out. I dropped out last study period because my heart wasn't in it any more. My anxiety was through the roof because I was also trying to find a job and doing RSVP trying to find a man as well as trying to do 12wbt by the book and failing. Something had to give so I gave up uni. My first application for special circumstances was rejected but finally my second was accepted. I've enrolled again in the same subject for the next study period which is a relief but I'm worried I'll fail again. The study period doesn't begin until 27 February so I really should use this time wisely and get started on redoing assignment 1 ahead of time.

4. The work situation scares me witless! I don't even want to write about it really. I know I need a job for my own sanity but having that kind of commitment terrifies me. For too long I haven't been expected anywhere really. Noo is the only one that makes me do anything and that is for love so it is ok. He loves me even when I fuck up. What if I actually do get a job and I don't do it right or I wake up every morning again hyperventilating with anxiety about having to go and perform around a bunch of strangers. And this market is so tight! Especially for part time admin roles. I've had so many rejections. Before my breakdown I got every job I ever interviewed for. I'm excellent at what I do but I can't seem to get a foot in the door anywhere now.

So that is it I think. My poor me middle class problems.

I should stop whining and start doing but I'm so tired. I need another life changing epiphany. That lightning bolt. That breakthrough. Just some sort of kick up the arse that gets me moving again.

V.

Dating sucks

My band is really tight at the moment but I've been hovering between 79 and 81kg for weeks now. This always happens to me. I go through a burst of motivation and enthusiasm to eat well and exercise lose on average 1kg a week and then get bored with cooking and get complacent about exercise then hello plateauville.

My band is so tight it is really anti social. I can eat but very, very slowly or if I stick to really band friendly foods I can eat a little more and a little faster. These include cheese and crackers, popcorn, smoothies, Cruskits, some muesli bars, soups. You bandits out there know what I mean - either really crunchy or really soft/sloppy. When I'm being lazy about eating I tend to live on cheese and crackers and chocolate and popcorn. Not healthy from a calorie point of view and certainly not healthy from a nutritional viewpoint either.

My staple diet

I wrote the other day about my latest dating situation. I've decided I hate dating! I hate the anxiety of it all. The games that are suppose to be played. You know what I mean? Trying to not seem too keen while still expressing some interest. In this day and age where communication is so easy via social media or text message it is easy to fall into the trap of overly regular contact before you know the person well and then when they don't respond at the same pace or with the same enthusiasm it leaves the mind to fill the gaps trying to work out what each message really means or what they really are trying to tell me when they don't respond for 24 hours. Because seriously, we all have our mobile close at hand. For blokes, they are only in their pockets. There must be a message they are trying to tell me by not getting back within a couple of hours.

So my mind has been working overtime since my date on Monday night. Does he like me, does he not? Do I like him? Or do I really think our political differences are uncompromisable (is that even a word)? My complaint with the last relationship was that we fell into a trap of being too comfortable too soon and in too much contact too soon. This current guy and I have a date set for this afternoon so I should be happy, but why do I assume he can't be that interested because he hasn't sent me a tonne of texts everyday since the last date? 

This line of thinking then sends me into a spiral of self doubt and self hate. OMG, I must be so annoying! I must come across so desperate! So old! So needy! It goes on... Why does it have to be like this? Why do I have to be like this? I've never been great with men and relationships. The reason for that could take hours to write about and I'm sure it goes back to the way my mother hated my dad my whole life (except for the last 5-10 years) and how she basically taught my sister and me to either hate men, or fear them, but I don't want to go into that now. I've always believed that I've spent most of my life single, or with dickheads, either because I'm too fat, too needy, too aggressive, too drunk, too headstrong, too unable to play the game...

Noo and I went out and about just the two of us yesterday which is usual for a Saturday. We visited my mum in hospital (she's ok) and then went in search of somewhere to cool off (it was 30+ degrees here in Sydney). The first park we went to has a really great sprinkler system for the kids to run under but was packed, despite the fact that the water feature was broken. We left there and went to a local pool. I'd been resisting the pool because I had a small lump taken off my arm during the week and wasn't suppose to have it submerged in water for too long but the pool we went to has a great kids' wading pool so I didn't have to get wet. Anyway, the reason I'm writing about this is that I hate Saturdays in parks, pools, zoos... any place for kids. Saturday is Dad Day.

I'm pretty sure I've written about this before but I can't be bothered to go hunting out the link. All the places for kids are packed with older, school aged kids as well as the preschoolers and toddlers, and they come with their dads or as a family unit - with both parents. I don't want to sound bitter, because I'm not (I don't think), I made the choice to be a sole parent, but it is on these days that I realise I really would like to share this wonderful experience with someone. As well as share the hard times of raising a child.

In the kids' pool yesterday there was a couple with their little baby who might have been about six months old. Watching them share the delight in their baby's face as he padded and splashed around the shallows of the pool made my heart melt. I love seeing dads with their babies. The hardness of their masculinity disappears as they focus on their baby and as an onlooker you can just feel the love between them. I would love to share that with someone. Because the truth of it is I want more kids! But not alone. It is just too hard. 

The father issue has come up a lot lately because Noo is starting to realise he doesn't have one. He sometimes talks like he does and sometimes calls my dad - his pa - daddy. I feel really bad about that. Not because I'm not in contact with his biological father because getting that fuckwit out of our lives was the best thing I could have done for Noo but for not having another man in our lives we could both love and he could call dad. Or I wish his real dad was a decent bloke and could be in our lives but that is never ever going to happen.

*big sigh here* 

Anyway, I've written way more than I wanted to. It is a beautiful day here again and I have lots to do. I'll write later about this afternoon's date. He just text so we're all set. 

Now, what am I going to wear?


V.

Something is missing

It's Wednesday afternoon; I'm tired, cranky and just a teensy bit anxious. I need a whinge so I might as well do it here.

Noo is home on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and these past two days have been those kinds of days that I just wish would be over and done with so it was time to drop him off at daycare again. He can be so frustrating at times! As he hurtles toward his third birthday it gets more and more frustrating when he doesn't listen to me and take instruction. For example when I'm yelling at him across the shopping centre to stop running and come back to me he barely turns around to smile before continuing to run in the other direction. So annoying! I hate being one of those parents that is constantly yelling out their child's name across the park, store, street, wherever!

I need a kid break. I need a long sexy weekend away having adult times with another adult (male of course) without having to think about any responsibilities or any of the other little things that keep me feeling guilty that I should be doing this or doing that. 

I wrote recently that I was cool with being single and that is true, but I really feel I need to take a lover. Take a lover. Wouldn't it be nice if it was as easy as that. I think I heard one of the characters on Downton Abbey the other night say something about 'taking a mistress'.  Turning 37 on Sunday just reminds me how I'm wasting my most sexually potent years being abstinent. It sucks. When I was in my 20s and early 30s I had plenty of sex but mostly it was bad sex. Drunken fumblings with men I barely knew or when I was in a long relationship in my early twenties I was too embarrassed to say what I wanted and how I liked it. And honestly, I don't think I really knew back then anyway. Now, I have the confidence, I know what I like and I've lost 20kgs so I'm READY!

Meeting people for dating is now suppose to be easier than ever. With there being so many dating sites (eg RSVP, eHarmony) and now even iPhone applications (Blendr) in theory it should be really easy to get a date and subsequently some sex. And I tried the old fashioned way a couple of Fridays ago. About four single mates and I went to a very busy bar in the city and it really was amazing the amount of male talent there. There were hot guys everywhere. The only problem was the boys weren't talking to the girls. It seemed typically Australian where all the guys were standing with their groups of mates and all the girls were in groups and everyone was eyeing each other off but no one was taking it further than that. Not until that is, confidence levels rose with blood alcohol levels.

As anybody who has read my blog in the past would know, I don't drink. I haven't done so for about three and a half years. I'm not a wowser and I have no problem with people drinking around me but when guys start getting silly with it, and even less attractive, sleazy with it, I take it as my cue to leave. And that's just what I did on that Friday night.

After one of my friends decided to go back on RSVP for a look, I thought, what the hell, I'll reinstate my profile, update it a bit and see if there's anyone on there worth thinking about. After a bit of searching I was really amazed by the lack of potential, except for one guy. So I sent that guy a 'kiss', the free communication that the site has to allow users to get in first contact with one another. He eventually sent one back saying he'd be happy for me to email him. Now to email someone other than using the pre-worded 'kisses' you have to purchase stamps and they cost a fortune. Its about $50 for 6 stamps that are valid for a month from the purchase date. There weren't 6 people that I wanted to email and anyway, as anyone who regularly reads this blog knows, I'm always skint so there was no way I was going to spend $50 to contact one guy. Plus I'd never had to pay for stamps in the past, so I wasn't going to start now. 

I told my friend about this dilemma and she offered to email this bloke using her account because she had some stamps that were about to expire and she couldn't find anyone worth using them on herself. So away she goes sending an email worded by me which included my email address that I use for people I don't know well yet. He emails me back and finally we have contact out of the RSVP system.

The email the guy sends me comes from his usual address which has his full name. Of course, armed with this information, I go straight to my browser and Google him. I felt so indecent doing it. I felt like a stalker or peeping tom or private detective doing a background check. The information is there, its public, but is it right to go snooping on someone you're planning on meeting on a date before you've even met? This guy is like me, he's all over Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn and has a couple of blogs. So within minutes I had his entire work history, information on the kind of people he follows, what he likes to do in his spare time based on tweets and from other sites his name had been included in. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on which way you look at it) for him he has an unusual name so it was easy to find all this out.

After a few get-to-know-you emails we exchange phone numbers and before long we're on to texting each other little messages about what we're doing and photos of what we're seeing and we set up a date for Monday night. Although I've done the online dating thing for a decade now (god I'm old!) I still find this all kind of strange. Before I've even met the person I'm going out with we already know so much about each other!

I guess in a lot of ways its good. You can weed out the people who would absolutely be no fit straight away. You can decide before you've met whether or not you think you could compromise on this issue or that. And you can find out pretty early on if you have the same core values and if you want the same things (eg kids, which is a biggie). 

But, as I said earlier, I am really just looking for a regular shag with relationship potential maybe, but mostly for unadulterated down and dirty adult fun with some hanging out in between (eg movies, galleries, dinner, etc). There wasn't enough of that in the last relationship. It seemed staged and predictable from the outset. The relationship before that, the one many years before, was at the other end of the spectrum - pure hedonistic trashy sex, drugs and alcohol fueled lust that went on for weeks. Then three years later, Mr nice guy who's so chivalrous and polite that we move from dating to married couple within weeks. What I want now is something in between.

So, could this guy be the one? Not necessarily The One but the one for right now. I hope so. The potential is there so far. We had a great time on Monday night and I definitely felt the sexual chemistry. He lives really nearby which is also an added bonus. We also have a lot in common and a lot to talk about, so who knows... 

Fingers crossed.

V.

Feeling fab! In the 80s at last.

This entry is going to be such a contrast to last week's Guilt and Anxiety post. After having a fantastic birthday on Saturday I have been rewarded again with the scales clocking in at 89.8kg. I'm finally below that elusive 90kg (200lb) mark!

Dressed and ready to party on my 36th birthday

Saturday started with high anxiety. Noo was gagging to get out of the house and play so was a little terror, running around pulling the place apart just as I was trying to tidy up and organise outfits, etc for the big day ahead. At one stage I snapped, as he continued to pull everything from under his change table out after I repeatedly asked him not to. The poor little thing is only 22 months so doesn't really understand. That didn't stop me shouting at the gorgeous little boy and telling him to get out while I picked him up and then closed the door on him. I was so upset! So was he. I felt so bad about it later. Seeing that little face look up at me while I closed the door broke my heart but I was just so frustrated. Five minutes later, after composing myself, I went back out and said sorry and he gave me a big hug saying sorry too.

I think I have a lot of patience generally and I especially have a lot of patience for Noo, but sometimes I just snap. I just find the best thing is to remove myself from the room (or in this case, remove Noo) and stop and take some deep breaths and remember, he is only a little boy, not even two years old.

It was a really hot and balmy Sydney summer's day. I love warm weather, but not too warm. I just don't like the frizzy hair and melted make up that comes with the heat and humidity. By the time we got to my sister and brother in law's house for lunch, it was just right, and with the French doors open to their back garden, there was a lovely breeze through, making it the perfect place to be.

For my birthday feast, my brother made the most delicious Vietnamese style rice paper rolls with prawn and salad, accompanied by one of his fantastic sauces. I wish I took a photo to show you, before we all demolished them.

The main course was cooked by my wonderful brother in law who baked the most amazing dish of Asian style whole snapper served with Chinese BBQ pork and pineapple fried rice and Asian greens. Absolutely to die for! And nothing was too heavy or overly calorific - until dessert that is!

Asian style baked whole Snapper

Birthday feast - Chinese roast pork and pineapple fried rice

As requested, my mum made her sumptuous Mangomisu, which is a summery take on the Italian classic, Tiramisu. Absolutely to die for but very rich as it is chock block full of mascapone and thickened cream and sugar and Grand Marnier. So, so good!

As I don't have much restriction I was able to enjoy all three courses, but I had much smaller serves than I would have in the past. I was stoked though not to be too tight. I mean, who would want miss out on all that delicious food?

I love my family, we are small, but we are quality. I love them all to bits. I am so grateful for all the effort put in to make my birthday as special as it was.

Mum's Mangomisu

After lunch Noo got out in the back garden to play under the hose with his uncles watching on. He had such a fabulous time.

Noo having a ball!

Once lunch was over, my parents took Noo up the the Blue Mountains with them so I could have a couple of nights off. I missed him so much while he was gone, but was so glad for the sleep.

Once we said our goodbyes, my sister, brother in law and I got ready to go out to meet up with friends for my birthday drinks at a bar in Sydney's inner city. I had such a wonderful night. In fact, it was the best night out I've had in a long time. I felt great, I wasn't uncomfortable physically or mentally, I felt kinda normal! I was by no means the biggest girl in the room, amongst Sydney's beautiful people. I didn't feel self conscious about not drinking or feel that I couldn't get amongst it without having that artificial confidence that alcohol use to give me. That was the reason I started drinking in the first place so I can't tell you how good it was to realise I don't NEED it any more. I am ok as I am!

Losing weight off my face

Stoked about my weightloss

It is just amazing what being down 10kg can do. I just can't imagine what I'll feel like when I get to 80kg or 70kg! After I had such a naughty week of eating, seeing that drop on the scale has given me new motivation to keep going and get to that next weightloss goal of 85kg by Christmas. It felt so good to cross off 90kg. So fantastic! Can you tell I'm ecstatic! 

Check it out...

Before I go, thank you for the supportive comments I got last week when I had my little anxiety attack. Your comments are so appreciated and cherished so thank you!

I hope everyone in blogland has had great weekends. And looking forward to more success this week as we head closer to Christmas.

V.

A victorious (both scale and non-scale) post

I have been finding really hard to get to my blogging, both writing and reading. I've been so busy these last couple of days especially now my parents are back up the Mountains and I am doing the full on single mum bit without Nanna and Pa's help. Noo really misses his grandparents too so has been acting up today. We were out the door before 9am and back after 4 this arvo. I seriously take my hat off to single...actually any mums out there with more than one child. And those that work, my god, you all should be sainted! 

So my last couple of posts have been a bit whingy, a bit on the negative, and without really noticing, I've actually had some major SVs and NSVs happen.

Happy!

1. I am down to 90.5kg, which brings my total weightloss to just under 10kgs, or 21lbs. Yay me!

2. My BMI has dropped from 32.7 to 29.6, 0.4 below the "obese" range. I'm now in the "overweight" range. Yippee!

3. I went shopping in Target (crikey they have good stock at the moment!) and I have officially dropped a dress size to an Aussie size 16 (US14) in normal (not plus size) fashion. Crazy but true!

4. I can now to wear my US size 14 NYDJ that I bought last year in hope that I would lose enough weight to fit into them and now I finally can.

5. I can fit into a plus size 14 pair of khaki trousers I bought on sale last year but still had the labels on them because I was too big at the time to put them on. 

6. One of the teachers at Noo's daycare asked me if I'd lost weight. People are starting to notice!

7. I picked the Melbourne Cup - the number 8, Americain. Go you little beauty!

8. I passed my JavaScript theory exam and my Copyright exam. Only two more tests and 2 more assessments before the end of the semester. Woo hoo!

9. I have had some delicious food, both at home and out and I'm so glad to be craving salad again.

Smoked chicken, orange, fennel and quinoa salad
made by me for dinner with my sister tonight - very band friendly
- high in protein, low fat, no carbs and no sugar.

Roasted salmon salad from the new upmarket foodcourt in Westfields Pitt Street Mall.
The new centre is fabulous! Finally Sydney is starting to glamour up a bit.
Salad was huge and a bit creamy, but delicious. I only ate half and then delivered
my leftovers to my sister who works in town.

I haven't done anything about the goals I set myself on Sunday night I've been so frantic I just haven't had time to get to the gym or write my meal plan. I did a massive grocery and fruit and veg shop today though so will try to do my menu plan tomorrow as well as go to the gym in the morning. I have only one TAFE class which is in the arvo. 

So despite some major anxiety today out with Noo, all is pretty good. I'm starting to feel like a normal person rather than a depressed fat alien who doesn't belong anywhere. I'm not 100% there but I'm so on the journey. 

V.

Sitting with it and riding it out

What a day! Its been full on. My 21 month old son has finally hit the "terrible twos". 

Noo started this morning by tearing apart the apartment because his grandmother and I was taking it slow to get ready to leave the house. Slow in that we weren't ready until 9.15am, rather than 8.30am which is about the time Noo has been getting down to daycare this week. We left the building with Noo attached to his teddy bear reins with me holding on and his Nanna pushing the stroller. We had to stop at every car while Noo exclaimed "car! car!" and then "door! door!" while he tried to open the door to every vehicle we passed making him look like a little child thief.

At this pace it was going to take us 2 hours to take the 15 minute walk into the CBD so, with a little force, I managed to get him screaming into the stroller to complete the trip. We were off to the Dymocks building for a coffee and so Noo could have some morning tea. As soon as we came into view of Darrell Lee (Australia's oldest confectionary shop) he started shouting "more! more!" which in Noo language means "feed me, feed me!". He has only just started to recognise that the lollie section at the supermarket and Darrell Lee are where good, yummy, delicious food experiences can happen. Just typing this is making me desperately want some Darrell Lee peanut brittle fingers right now. God, how I love that shop! 

Oh yeah! These rock! (Image owned by Darrell Lee)

Walking past it now is so hard as the distinctive smell of their chocolate wafts out the front door and tantilises your nostrals as you walk by. I must have passed by that store at least a dozen times since I've been banded and haven't gone in once, but god its hard. Its very much like when I first gave up booze and I still loved the smell of stale cigarettes and beer that permeated the doors of many an old pub throughout Sydney and I would slow my pace to get a whiff of that intoxicating aroma. Vile, I know, but back then I loved it yet managed to resist it and over time the smell eventually became disgusting to me.

So, back to today, we got to Dymocks and were able to get a little booth in the cafe. Noo had a milkshake and shared some raisin toast with mum and I had a cappuccino. All good until Noo slipped out of the booth and started bolting around the books shelves pulling out tomes on art and such. We quickly paid our bill and moved on down to the children's section where they have a train for little kids to climb all over. Noo loves it but this time the game included running up the stairs to the little seat in the train, running down them and then doing a loop around the entire floor, knocking into other customers, as he returned to the train to start all over again. Sales staff smiled and looked on politely but I could see this little performance was running thin after about the 6th time he did it.

More screaming and resisting and he was back in the stroller. The next stop was Myer (major Aussie department store) to buy some summer sandles for Noo. This is when something burst in my head and my anxiety levels rose to heights they haven't been for a long time. I found some sandles I liked and wanted Noo to try on. I managed to get Noo out of the stroller again and whipped off the trainers he was wearing and put on one sandle before he wriggled out of my arms and starting bolting/hobbling with one shoe on up the entire length of the floor before I could catch him. Man, that kid is fast! And I'm really slow. It was comedy gold for anyone watching on but for me, trying to catch a toddler as they run around racks of clothes where I can see him one minute and then he's gone the next, it was scary.

I managed to get him back to the shoe section and put the other sandle on and then off he went again. Up and down that bloody floor with me chasing after him. Insane! Finally I caught him and got him back in the stroller. With my heart racing I paid for the shoes and left. Unfortunately my heart didn't stop racing all afternoon. I felt terrible after that. On the verge of a full on panic attack. First time in yonks that has happened.

Finally Noo went to sleep and mum and I went to a cafe for lunch. We both ordered a smoke salmon salad which was nice but I only managed about a quarter of it and didn't dare try any of the sourdough that came with it. I was still feeling shocking at the cafe but started to unwind a bit as we sat there quietly talking while Noo slept on in his stroller.

It wasn't long though before the apple of my eye was awake again and wanting to get a move on. We left the cafe and started heading for home. Walking via Office Works I picked up a new keyboard for $14.95. Can you believe how cheap IT equipment has become over the years? $14.95! I also got half a terrabyte of memory in an external hard drive for $98 bucks! Bargain. I remember just about four years ago my flatmate in London bought half a terrabyte for about 300 quid and we thought that was such a massive amount of space for an external drive for a reasonable price. It amazes me everyday the rate at which technology evolves and my head spins trying to keep up with it.

By 3pm we were home but Noo's frantic mood continued. He teared around the apartment for most of the afternoon, deliberately doing things he knows he's not suppose to do, like climbing up on the dining table. He refused any real dinner opting for a bottle instead. When it came to bedtime our usual routine of story and me singing to him until he falls asleep had no chance of happening. Instead he screamed and shouted and cried until I let him out of the room and he went running to his Nan for cuddles as if I was the enemy. This has never happened before. Of course I don't take it personally but its hard all the same. He seemed so tormented all day. I was tormented! My mum though, she was cool as a cucumber. God, that's a whole other post, about what a legend my mum is.

These kind of days are the most challenging for the addict in me. I want something to instantly soothe me. To take it all away, that feeling of edginess, of doom. I used to use wine, or pot, or shopping, or food for that short term release from anxiety and today is really the first day since I've been banded that I've been challenged to accept the anxiety and sit with it and ride it out.

And I have survived. I'm kind of dreading going to bed, just to wake up in the morning to do it all over again, but that's my life. That's life with a child! What I'd do for a sleep in! But of course I wouldn't change any of it for the world.

Good night everyone.

V.

Noo's day out

What a great day we've had! Noo and I hung out all day, starting at playgroup in Annandale to catch up with girlfriends and their kids. Noo loves that playgroup - there are so many cars and toys and a sandpit and lots and lots of kids. I love that playgroup because everything is really safe and geared toward the under 5s which means I can be fairly relaxed rather than being on high alert in helicopter parent mode as I am at most parks, etc.

After a good two hours of play we left to go hangout at our local shopping centre so Noo could get a haircut. I got him a number 2 all over and it looks great! He's usually really hard to keep still while getting a cut but this time I think he quite enjoyed the vibration of the clippers going over his scalp. The poor bub has bad eczema which I keep under control with a mild cortisone cream and lots of moisturiser after every bath. His skin flares up though if he overheats. It doesn't matter if its winter or summer he still has it. In winter grandparents and kindy teachers can't help themselves but overdress him, like other kids get all rugged up. Noo is so hot blooded though he doesn't need the same amount of layers and so the eczema rears its ugly red and itchy head. Summer, well you got to keep him as cool as possible, hence the trip to the hairdressers today. The poor Mr Man had a breakout on his forehead yesterday because the weather has really started to warm up and his fringe was quite thick so the hair had to go. 

Both he and I love it but his grandparents aren't so sure. They'll get used to it!

Buzz cut for Noo Noo

On the band front, I have really noticed a change in restriction these last couple of days. I seem to be able to eat more and more solid foods and more of it. Today I started well with half a banana and a couple of tablespoons of low fat yogurt. I had lunch at the shopping centre while Noo slept and my choices for mushie/soft type food was limited. I ended up getting a ham and cheese crepe as I thought that would be soft and able to go down. I managed about a fifth of it over about an hour. It was delicious but I was really conscious of the calories. I also had it with a Lipton Ice Tea which is chock full of sugar. Naughty as, but I hate paying for water!

After lunch we headed home and by about an hour or so later Noo was gagging to get out again. I'd brought home the leftover crepe so I gave him most of that for an early dinner, which he loved. We then went for a big walk into town, Noo sporting his cool new do and me holding on to him with the teddy bear toddler reins. Anyone who thinks toddler reins should be left for dogs and not children, mustn't live in a highly populated area with busy streets. My boy is a bolter. He's very active and loves to walk about but I'd never let him walk into the CBD of Sydney without being attached to me somehow. The alternative would be to strap him in the stroller but then he wouldn't get the exercise.

As a result of the walk he was a dream baby to get to sleep tonight. Half an hour of cuddles and then off like a light. Brilliant! Which leaves me here, writing and feeling a bit stuffed. Just had some mash, tiny bits of peas/corn/carrots and my Moroccan mince I made on the weekend, but without putting it through the blender. I was quite hungry before I started the meal but now, after about 3/4 cup of food, I'm chockers and I have that tight feeling across my chest. Don't know if I ate too much or if the food was too chunky.

I'm quite tired tonight, so I think I'll have an early night. They'll be more Noo Noo adventures in the morning!

V.

On the night before surgery...

Well, this is my "night before" blog. I've been thinking about what to write all day, as well as reading loads of other blogs, but I haven't been able to come up with any profound last words before I go under the knife, so I'm just going to type and see what comes out...

I've been quite consumed with anxiety about it all but not because I'm fearful of the surgery or the anesthetic. Quite the contrary, I don't mind being sedated and having that lovely dreamy feeling when you wake up. I'm not too scared about the pain either, I figure I endured a 39 hour labour when Noo was born, I can endure any pain that I might be inflicted with. What I'm really scared about is what losing weight means to me.

I am at the tail end of what has been a very long, very hard journey that started in 2007 when I had a massive breakdown.  One minute I was living and working in London, the next being admitted to a psychiatric and rehabilitation hospital in Sydney's eastern suburbs. Its been an incredibly hard and bumpy road that has found me here, typing this blog getting ready to be banded to help me shed the fat I've been hiding behind while I heal what have been some pretty heavy emotional scars.

Before 2007 I was a bubbly, funny and energetic party girl. I lived to party and have fun. Then something very bad happened and all that came crashing down. The year that followed was a living hell. I started to self medicate with drugs and alcohol and when I finally came back to Sydney it was to detox to save my life.

Getting sober at first was like being striped clean with bleach. I had nothing to help me hide from the thoughts in my mind and was forced to face what my life had become. I was 32 and I had nothing but a massive UK credit card debt and a serious drug and alcohol problem. I was not the cool party girl/rock chick, in control of her habits, as I had somehow managed to convince myself I was. In those three weeks in the hospital I began to realise I had no idea who I was. Since I was a shy teenager who discovered drinking alcohol gave me the confidence I could never have alone, I had made drinking and partying the central part of my personality. Now that it was gone I was left open like a raw weeping wound without a band aid. 

In the hospital I was put on various medications to help with detoxing and with the deep depression I now found myself in. Over the last three years I have tried eight different anti-depressants and about five different anti-psychotic/mood stabilisers (which I don't need any more). Some of these medications really affect your appetite and by not being able to drink, I was seriously drawn to food - particularly chocolate and any other sweet food.

Chocolate is addictive and affects the same neuro pathways as drugs and alcohol do. With my increased appetite thanks to whatever meds the psychiatrists had me on I became obsessed with chocolate - it was my new cocaine! 

Finally, after four admissions and almost a year to the day of that terrible thing that happened, I found out I was pregnant with my son. It was make or break time. Get sober and live and raise a little baby out the ashes that was my old life or, well, the or just doesn't bear thinking about.

So I was preggers. The first 14 weeks I had horrific morning sickness and couldn't eat so actually lost 13 kg.  I got down to my lowest weight since giving up the booze, etc, and was 83 kg as I headed into the second trimester. By the end of my pregnancy I was completely infatuated with lollies and chocolates and fruit and ice cream and anything sweet I could get my hands on! Most importantly though, I found a new hope and could finally see a future for myself as I fell deeply in love with the little baby that was growing inside me.

By the time Noo was born I was 104kg. In the few weeks and months following his birth my weight never really dropped below 95 kg.  I was hungry all the time. Seriously starving 24 hours a day. I would eat whenever he needed a feed, even throughout the night. My appetite was bigger than it had even been on those horrible mood stabilisers! I complained about it to my doctor and it was just put down to the fact I was breast feeding. I also started to get other symptoms - profusive sweating, sleeplessness, and extreme anxiety. I began to feel like the world was going to end. I had this overwhelming feeling all time of impending doom.

Once again I went back to my GP and I was seeing a psychiatrist weekly but still my symptoms were put down to being a new mother who was breastfeeding. I was also on a massive dose of an anti-depressant which was giving me a strange side effect that my head would experience a buzzing sensation whenever I moved. Both my GP and the psych put it down to anxiety and kept increasing my dose.

By the time Noo was just over 3 months old, I was losing it and finally I was admitted to a psych hospital again to come off my meds to try another type of anti-depressant. As is routine when you get admitted to these places, the hospital's GP ordered a stack of blood tests. I was later called in to see the doctor and told that my thyroid was malfunctioning and was extremely hyperactive, to the point where he thought I might have Graves Disease. I had my laptop with me so was straight on to Google when I got back to my room. Symptoms included, anxiety, fast metabolism causing increased appetite, profusive sweating... I could not believe it! Here I was thinking I had regressed back to the depressed state I was in back in 2007 and what really was the issue was that I had a thyroid problem! 

I was furious to say the least.  I'm still not over it really, will never be, that my doctors did not test my thyroid function given my extreme symptoms. I suffered for about 4 months with a newborn who I was struggling to care for because I was losing my mind. When I finally got to see an endocrinologist I was diagnosed with postpartum thyroiditis. Phew! That was well over a year ago and my recent appointment with the specialist confirmed that the thyroid disease has righted itself and is functioning at normal levels now.

Wow, this has become a much longer entry than I expected but I suppose it goes to how I find myself here, on the eve of my gastric band surgery.

I tried many diets in an attempt to lose the weight I had gained including Weight Watchers (x2), Jenny Craig and two sessions a week with a personal trainer. Still nothing was working, or it would work for a couple of weeks to a month and next thing I knew I was falling into bad habits again.

In one of my stints in rehab I met an alcoholic girl around my age who would eat very little food. I must have asked her about it and when she told me she had a gastric band I was completely intrigued. When my Jenny Craig diet failed last year, I started thinking more about that young woman and began researching all about laproscopic gastric band surgery. I have read everything, I think, there is to read about it, and I knew it was the thing for me.  I know I have a lower BMI than most people who have the procedure but for someone who has been in the overweight/obese category for most of my adult life, I really think its the right thing for me.

So I've been sober two and a bit years and I am the mother of the most wonderful little boy. Getting pregnant got me sober and being a parent keeps me sober.  I don't know if anyone would understand this but being obese also keeps me sober. I hardly ever go out at night and I haven't even thought about another relationship or men in general, since this whole saga began. At the beginning, I was too broken for a relationship, now I'm just too fat. But a healthy relationship is something that I want but it frightens me so much at the same time.

Will losing weight and feeling good about my body be enough to make me want to go out and meet people but also tempt me to drink again? Its a frightening thought but honestly, I don't think so (the drink party I mean, not the meeting people!). Writing this blog has made me realise that. I am so far away from that shell shocked girl that came back from London in June 2007. I am a strong and resilient woman who has come back from the brink of oblivion and I'm ready to let go of this mask, this armour, and let the new and fabulous me come out and shine!

Next time I post I will be banded! It is midnight so I must go to bed.

Vanessa

The Rocks

Well it's been another beautiful weekend in Sydney Town. Mum has been down from the Blue Mountains keeping me company again and its been so great hanging out with her. Yesterday we went to the Orange Grove food markets and met up with my sister Yo and her husband Cal, who were joined by some friends with their gorgeous little girl, Eden.

The markets are in a little primary school so they are enclosed by fences which allowed Noo to run free for a while. Well if you call being shadowed by your mother everywhere you go free, then it was. I am what is now called a "helicopter" parent. A parent who hovers by the child anxiously trying to avoid any accidents of any kind. I just can't help myself! It drives Noo and me both crazy but I just couldn't just stand there idly, watching him fall over and hurt himself badly. I know you're suppose to let them explore the world to discover things themselves but I just hate the anxiety of it all. Sometimes I think I need a Valium just to get through half an hour at a kids play gym. I try to stand back and count to 10 but always end up shouting across the playground "Noo, Noo, be careful!" or whatever it is at the time. He is only 20 months after all. I never thought I'd be like that as a parent, but I'm just so paranoid about something happening to him.

The markets have fabulous food and one of the stalls that's been there since the markets first began back in the early 00s has the best bacon and egg rolls in Sydney. For $6 bucks you get the freshest white bread roll with two eggs, two thin and crispy rashes of bacon topped with the sauce of your choice - we had barbecue. Food heaven. My surgery postponement was worth it just for that experience! We also had these steamed (go figure!) muffins with apple and cinnamon, pumpkin and orange marmalade, and bacon, cheese and zucchini. Delicious!

We topped our day off by picking up some groceries at Broadway Shopping Centre. Noo fell asleep in his stroller while we were walking around and so he could sleep mum and I went for an frappacino at Gloria Jeans which was very decadent, topped with whipped cream and caramel sauce. So, so naughty! I think mum is looking forward to me getting my band as much as I am because I'll then be less of a bad influence on her eating.

And more bad eating continued today. Mum, Noo and I spent the day walking around The Rocks which is where we live and which is the oldest settled area of Australia. The Rocks on Sydney Harbour is where my ancestors first settled back in 1788 when the First Fleet came in with its cargo of convicts, including my great, great, great grandfather, who was transported from England for stealing a bolt of fabric in 1786. Walking the cobbled streets of The Rocks always makes me think of them and their struggles to forge a life for themselves in a hostile new land.

We had delicious lunch at this gorgeous little French patisserie, sitting in the courtyard to enjoy a chicken baguette for mum and a sausage roll with salad for me. We finished off with a great cappuccino and the most divine cakes I've had for a while.

I've been documenting what I ate this weekend because I'm starting to get very nervous about letting this lifestyle go. I just love hanging out at cafes drinking coffee and eating cake, especially while Noo enjoys his midday snooze. Cafes really have replaced pubs for me, now I just need to find something to replace the cafes!

I am really getting sick of waiting and talking about this operation now. I just want it already! The anticipation is killing me. I've looked at so many blogs, reading so many different people's stories of their experiences that I'm so ready to just jump in and do it myself, but alas there is still another week to go. I've just got to keep busy and hopefully the time will pass by quickly. I've got to keep chilled about it too because I don't need another anxiety related physical attack.

I've babbled on way too much tonight. I'll just end with a couple of photos. One is a photo mum took of me last Thursday and the other is my gorgeous little Noo Noo.

Me with new dress and scarf

Growing up so fast!

Good night.

V.