Tuesday, September 29, 2009
The Demon in my Head
I slept a little over 3 hours. And I do mean just a little.
I kept feeling like I couldn't breathe. My period came out of the blue, yesterday. Or sort of. All the warning signs have been there. I'm broken out, my libido has gone nuts...but it was still like it was a surprise.
I forget I'm a woman, sometimes.
But that itchy feeling inside of my lungs came back. I would roll over and it would feel like the air was forced out of a great, hollow chasm. Like those great big fireplace billows you use to fan the flames with air. Compressing it together, shoving out the breath in a low whistle that rattled through my chest.
I don't feel like this when I get enough sleep.
I'm hoping it's just that.
But I'm also afraid that maybe something really is wrong.
I keep coughing stuff up. I get so tired without warning, and yet I can never sleep comfortably. My chest hurts, my heart beats too quick... deep breaths feel impossible, at times.
Perhaps it's just a lingering chest infection. It was there a bit before my mom visited, but being around her and her chain smoking must have solidified it.
I went from 130.8 yesterday, to 128.8 when I finally dragged myself out of bed after my measly ~3 hours of sleep. Normally, you don't lose when you don't sleep, because it causes your metabolism to sputter to a halt. But I haven't been EATING thanks to these new meds, so I think that, combined with my period, has helped to shake off some of this.
I stepped on 10 minutes after I got the official reading of 128.8 (I weigh myself until I get the same number 3 times in a row, making it official), I was up at 129.2. I'm eating very light today in hopes that I can make the 128.8 stay. Because then I'll be right around where I need to be to make this month NOT a waste.
I'm also considering the gym. I know I need to go. But I'm wondering if I'm really in any shape to drive there.
I almost passed out three times in the last two days. For the past couple of hours, I've felt cold and dizzy. Exhausted.
Would it be right of me to drive to the gym like this?
Would I be safe driving home after working myself to exhaustion?
Would the post-gym adrenaline be enough to navigate me through traffic like this?
Tough, tough, tough.
Every number on the scale counts. A symbol for more than the quantity it stands for. But for the measure of worth and size and will - all one in the same.
The monster in my head reflects itself with digital eyes.
She lives not in my mirror.
She lives not in my mind.
I see her most clearly when I am stripped completely bare,
feet on cold sensors
and her malignant eyes light up, displaying her disgust at me with angry 7's or 3's,
or her soft and reluctant well earned love by the way her eyes turn into 1's.
I strive for the approval of the demon in my head,
haunted by her reflection in my scale.