Progress

Different kinds of progress this week. So far I've lost 6 pounds since the beginning of the month. I like my chances of winning the challenge for weightloss. Yeah, I'm a bit hungry, but it's definitely manageable. I've rewarded myself with a couple of Girl Scout cookies at the end of good eating days and I even had half of a fast food meal. My therapist suggested that as a compromise because my husband and I eat out a lot and like to eat out a lot, so we simply share a meal.

I've been drinking a protein smoothie in the morning, sticking to my batch-made meals, and healthy snacking when the hunger got to rumbly territory. The water weight is just falling right off, which is nice. I have returned to my former highest weight (about 243.5 lbs.) and I can really see myself making major progress by the end of the month.

As always, I've also taken this opportunity to think about my psychological health. I continue to take my anti-depressant, but I know there are some deep-seated issues to work on. This week the subject of my fierce independence has come up. In the past, I've been weak and helpless to the bigger, more powerful people around me. I grew into a young adult who was constantly looking for validation and advice. When I finally got myself into therapy and then found a loving and supportive relationship, I made a decision: never again. I will never be that weak again. I will never be that dependent again. I will never be that weak again.

This manifested itself this week in a misunderstanding between myself and a friend who was trying to offer me advice that I didn't ask for. In my response, I was simply letting him know that when I need advice, I ask for it, but most of the time I just need validation. As with most text-based communication, my tone and intention was lost. It was unpleasant. I don't think I was wrong, but I do think some of my response is based on this hangup I have about where I've come from. I don't want anyone to treat me like a idiot, like a weakling, like lesser than them. The problem with this is that I can be overly protective and end up shutting people out. For some people, giving advice is the way they give love. Still, I need them to know that this is not the way I prefer to receive love and share how I do like to receive it: validation, support, hugs, kisses, coffee dates, movie dates, and thoughtful messages.

So yeah, progress made on at least two different fronts. Keeping the progress train moving.

Challenge

I've been going to the gym at least three times per week since we got back from our honeymoon around November. It's been great. It's really helped my stress, depression, anxiety, and general frustrations of everyday living. What's more, it's just become a part of my day. At one point my husband asked me, "How are you feeling about working out so often?" and I responded that I didn't really feel much about it. It was just a habit now, a part of my day. I go to work, I leave at noon, I work out, rinse off, and come back. It's a real no-brainer for the girl who has a hard time getting up in the morning in the winter and can't will herself to leave the house after returning from work.

The only problem with all of this is that it hasn't stopped me from eating like a monster. My weight has crept up into the 250s, which is of course an all-time high for me. My engagement ring is uncomfortably tight. Maybe part of it is the anti-depressant I'm taking (which is working well, by the way), but my eating is definitely out of control. My husband has asked me a few times if I'm motivated to lose weight and the answer has been no. Would I like to be healthier? Yes. Would I like to wear my engagement ring comfortably again? Yes. Am I motivated enough to deny my food cravings? Nope.

So, today during R.I.P.P.E.D. class, my trainer said this month they'll be doing essentially a "Biggest Loser" challenge. You pay in $50, top 3 get the cash. They're already up to $600. Okay. This might be the thing I need to get me motivated. Here's what I'm willing to do:

1. Commit to eating prepared meals and shakes at least 90% of the week.
2. Work out 4-7 times per week between classes and personal workout sessions.
3. Limit my snacking to healthy options.
4. Limit my indulgences to measured, logged foods.
5. Log my food.
6. Wear my FitBit again.
7. Optional: After daylight savings time, run 3 times per week.

As always, I'm not looking for your advice based on this article you read or this thing you heard. Some support is always welcome. Wish me luck!

Safe Harbor

I don't think people always "get" me and my husband. I do think that people think we're boring, and that we are somehow deprived for not having some hot-and-heavy, dramatic, super romantic kind of love you see in TV shows and movies. Part of this is because I'd describe Alex as "perfectly safe." I see how that sounds boring, but for a person who comes from a lot of trauma inflicted by people who were supposed to love me, "perfectly safe" is perfectly perfect.

No matter how far I wander away from shore, I can always look back to my safe harbor and there he is, like a lighthouse beaming out across the water no matter how foggy things get. "Hey," he says in that specific tone, the way he has throughout our five-and-a-half year relationship. That "hey" is the light. He calls out to me to look back at the shore. "Hey," he says, "I'm here." "Hey," he says, "you're safe." "Hey," he says, "I love you."

Those are the most crazy romantic moments for us. I feel a warmth blossom in my chest and I'm smiling inside and out because I'm safe, really and truly safe with him. Always.

"What ARE you?"

A write-up of my first Toastmasters speech, to be presented tonight:

Often when people meet me for the first time their initial impression or expression is, “What are you?” which I love. I know what they mean, but it’s as if I’m some sort of new species of human, some exotic animal, or perhaps an extraterrestrial. That’s a fun thought. I know what they mean, though. “Are you Hawaiian? Native? Oh, I know! You’re Filipino!” No, no, and no. I’m actually half Korean, but I think that a person’s first impression of me is indicative of their experience of me overall. Growing up, I found that people had a difficult time understanding me. This is a common experience for the children of alcoholic parents. This is also a common experience for the children of immigrant parents. For the former, what you have to understand about ACoA, or the adult children of alcoholics, is that they grow up with lies as a part of their culture. I would often lie about things that didn’t matter and I didn’t feel like this was morally wrong. After all, it didn’t seem to be hurting anyone except me when the people I cared about learned that I’d been lying to their face for no discernible reason. This problem was compounded by being the child of an immigrant. My mother had all sorts of traditions and ideas about child-rearing that seemed strange or even wrong to my white peers. No one ever knew what to make of me. Was I happy with my life? Was there too much pressure on me? Was I somehow abused because of my mother’s strict standards? Well, as it turns out, I was abused but not because of my mother’s cultural background. Instead, it was more likely her mental health and substance abuse that played a part in that. This also plays a part in a person’s misunderstanding of me. Sometimes I can be very standoffish and I might even isolate myself at times. I’ve come to understand this as a natural reaction and maladaptive habit from growing up in a physically abusive household. As an adult who has processed through this painful experience, I often come off as stern, powerful, and even severe. You see, it’s not uncommon for children who grow up in abusive household to use anger as a tool to obtain power as they have seen that at work firsthand. For instance, you might see such a child become a bully because they mimic this powerful use of anger that was modeled for them. Luckily, I didn’t have such a reaction; quite the opposite, in fact. From a young age, I found myself standing up for the bullied and oppressed. My painful experiences made me especially sensitive and empathetic to the suffering of those around me. While this often led to intensified chaos as a loved one’s instability added to my own, eventually this also led to my career. I am a marriage and family therapist and while there are a lot of big and small things that led me to this path, I think that my identity and the way it was shaped play a major role in my life’s work. I currently work with substance dependent clients, an often maligned and misunderstood group. I was surprised by how much I could relate to their experiences. You see, I am fortunate to have been born without the brain chemistry that would pre-dispose me to addiction. In addition, the chronic, inescapable stress and the alcoholic environment of my upbringing were not enough to force such a brain chemistry problem and that was due in part to those who loved and protected me whether or not they could truly understand me. Unconditional love is something I have been seeking my entire life: in my mother, in God, and in relationships both platonic and romantic. You see, it shouldn’t matter what I am or what you are. It can be a tantalizing mystery, to be sure, but the first question I wish people would ask me is not, “What are you?” but “How can I love you?” I wish more people would ask that question when meeting new people in general. Working in my field, I’ve found that there are stories behind every behavior you come across; stories you can’t even imagine. My story begins with the meaning of my name. Amanda has its roots in Latin. “Ama” means “love” and so “Amanda” means “loveable” or “worthy of love.” For so long I thought that who I was made me difficult to love, and so the meaning of my name seemed like a cruel joke. This is not so. I am a complex human being, just like you, and just like us all. “What are you?” I am Amanda. Get to know me for a little while, and discover how you can love me.

What She Said

I wish I could have had everybody at my wedding who wanted to go. It was a really good time and from Alex and myself I would like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who was with us, both in person and in spirit, on our special day. I had the vows and speech prepared for months, but for the speech I went a little off book. All the same, I like what I put together. Enjoy!

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Vows:

Alexander, I commit myself and all that I am and all that I have to you today. I want to be your wife because you make me my best self. I want to be your wife because you like working with me to improve our lives. I want to be your wife because I want you to be the father of our children. As your wife, I vow to always be your support. As your wife, I vow to help you when you struggle to help yourself. As your wife, I promise to honor you and remain loyal even when the times come when it’s difficult to do that. I vow these things because you deserve these things, and I know you will give them to me in equal measure. You give me hope. You give me laughter. You give me support. You give me dreams. You give me your loyalty. You give me strength. I vow to give these back to you because you deserve it, and I’m happy to say that I deserve you. I am honored to be your wife.

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Speech:

I want to thank you all for being here. It means so much to me that you would all come to celebrate my marriage to my best friend, my partner, my perfect match. I feel so much love here today and it’s so special. I want to take this time to acknowledge my partner of five years, Alexander Deerkop. A lot of you might not know our full story, and I thought now would be a good time to share it. I went to Syracuse University for six years, four for undergrad in psychology and two for master’s in marriage and family therapy. Between undergraduate and grad school there was obviously a mass exodus of friends. I was feeling really alone and bored, so I signed up for a dating website. I don’t expect you guys to believe me, but I didn’t intend on actually finding anybody and I wasn’t ready for commitment as I was committing to a two-year graduate program and didn’t know where I’d be after that. Actually, I have a lot of commitment issues and if it wasn’t for Alex, well… let’s just say I’m really glad I met him. Anyway, I just wanted to hang out with some people and be social, and up to that point I had always been able to form friendships with guys faster than with girls. I’d been a tomboy since I started developing at a young age and a lot of that remained. Anyway, I went on a couple of dates and obviously they were duds. Imagine that! A bunch of guys looking for relationships or hookups not making good friends? Anyway, it wasn’t long before I started talking to a guy with the screenname xcountryguy. I would later find out it was cross-country guy, but I was a little apprehensive. I’m not into country music, I’m not into the country lifestyle, and I am not a country girl. Still, he wrote a very interesting and grammatically correct introduction message to me. I can’t tell you how important the latter was. I wish I had the foresight to save it, because from my recollection it was a bit self-deprecating, like he was setting himself up to be rejected right off the bat. We hit it off, sending messages back and forth for a few months, graduating to texting. I didn’t know it at the time, but Alex never had occasion to text message people often and he had to upgrade his plan when we started talking. I think around that time we also started Skyping. He was living in Oswego, 45 minutes away from Syracuse while I was going to school, and so there was relatively little opportunity to meet up between classes, internships, and work until one day Syracuse University was hosting a Native American author, Leslie Marmon Silko. I was a big fan – surprise, I’m a big dork. Anyway, I specifically took the evening off to go to this event and Alex saw an opportunity so he extended himself and came to Syracuse to grab Indian food with me. I distinctly remember him acting like he was really into this lecture even though he’d never heard of the woman and that he was all about having Indian food for dinner although he had little experience with ethnic foods at all. He sat through what must have been a very boring lecture for him while I sat there with no less than half a dozen books that I hauled with me when I rushed out of the lecture hall to be the first in line for her autograph. Man, I was such a big dork. We had great conversation at Samrat’s that night. He was very open and frank and most importantly, intelligent. I think I decided a second date was in order when he used the word “amalgamation” over dinner. Alex left that night with a hug and I thought to myself, “If this guy still wants to see me after this, I’ll give him a honest shot.” Alex ended up getting one of his frequent sinus infections for a month after this date, but we were in contact the whole time, getting to know each other better. For our second date, I thought it was only fair for me to go to Oswego and see him. He had everything set up so thoughtfully. He rented my favorite movie, which was The Fifth Element – or Die Hard In Space. He cleaned up as much as he could to present his house in its best light. We cuddled on his futon and had a really nice time and then we started kissing. I ended up staying the night. Alex was a perfect gentleman, and he told me he admired me. In the morning, he saw me to the door and before I left he asked me not if I would be his girlfriend, but if we could he Facebook official. I guess that was a sign of the times. I’m so glad I said yes. We fell in love so quickly. Like I said, I wasn’t looking for a commitment when I set out on this journey, so I got scared at times, but we always worked through the tough times and there were plenty while I was working through grad school. Later when I asked Alex how he could have been so perfect for me during that time he said, “I just treated you the way I would want to be treated” and I thought that was beautiful. I remember the moment I really fell in love with him. We were still getting to know each other early on and I knew through his dating profile that he wanted to have children, which I thought was odd. I asked him why he wanted to have children and he said, “I just think it’s the best thing I could do for the world, raise good people to leave behind.” That was so perfect and I fell so hard. He knew it, too. I was still scared of what I felt for him, so I didn’t say it, and we were cuddling one night when he looked into my eyes and said, “Is there something you want to tell me?” I knew exactly what he was talking about, and I knew he felt it, too, but I was so freaked out. I said, “nope.” He just smiled and said, “Fine, I’ll say it first. I love you.” I must’ve turned so red in that moment. I remember covering my face with my hands before I looked at him and said, “I love you, too.” It wasn’t long before we were cuddled in bed again and he said, “Marry me.” Without thinking, I answered, “Okay.” Then after a moment I was like, “Wait, seriously?” and he said, “Yeah.” I was like, “Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were joking. There was no ring and it was so random.” Alex thought about it for a minute and said, “Oh. Okay, I take it back.” And I’m like, “What do you mean you take it back?” Alex said, “I want to get you a ring. You deserve a ring.” So, it was like this little secret between us for a while. We shopped for rings and told ourselves we would do that “eventually.” We even set an ideal wedding date, which is today, September 26, 2015, exactly five years after the date Alex asked me to be Facebook official. Now, the way he gave me the ring is pretty sweet too. He knew I was a big fan of The Office and he knew the one scene that gets me crying every time is Jim & Pam’s wedding when they sneak away to get married on the Maid of the Mist. Seriously, it gets me every time. Anyway, I’m like a big kid, so we’re on the Maid of the Mist and I’m freaking out because I love it and I’m running around the boat, getting misted, laughing, taking pictures, when all of a sudden he taps me on the shoulder and says, “I got something for you” and there’s the ring in his hand. I must’ve screamed, I don’t remember. I know I laughed. I was so happy. I couldn’t be happier. We’ve imagined this day together. We worked hard together to have an opportunity to share our love with you. Thank you so much for being here and giving us that opportunity. I beg of each and every one of you to help us going forward. When times get tough, as they surely will, please help us find each other again, because I love this man and I intend on having his friendship for a lifetime. Alex, there is no one else I would rather be spending this day with. There is no one else I would want to be the father of my future children. I would’ve married you a long time ago, but we’re here now. I love you, baby. Once again, thank you everyone. Have a good time!

Happiness

So, the appetite suppressant medications weren't working. I switched to an amphetamine-adjacent medication and that didn't work either. This coincided with a serious dip in my mood and motivation. I found myself going directly to bed after I came home from work every night, spending hours on my laptop playing a lot of Civ V, eating like crazy, and not engaging with my fiance. He noticed, and it upset him, but he felt powerless to change anything and quite honestly so did I. "I don't have depression," I kept telling myself, "because depressed people can't get up and go to work and put on a brave face and run a 9.3 mile race and train faithfully before that and socialize with their friends. Depressed people don't do those things." What a load, especially coming from a therapist.

I wasn't eating because my appetite was out of control. I was eating because it was something to do. I was eating because I was depressed. It was finally too much. I googled "depression screening" and went to a government website for mental health, answered a few simply questions, and boom, "Severe Depression." I cried. I cried for a lot of reasons. How did I let it get this bad? How did I let it go on for this long? I'm supposed to know better. It also felt like a death sentence. Oh, I'm depressed. My brain is sick. I'm going to be this way for the rest of my life and there's nothing I can do about that. When I picked up the phone to make the appointment with my doctor I was sobbing uncontrollably, but I felt better afterwards. I had a plan. I made an individual appointment with our couples' therapist. I talked to Alex.

The next day I broke down at work and my co-worker and my supervisor both noticed. My supervisor sat with me and had me meditate and breathe in essential oils. That helped. I drank water and ate a salad and went for a walk. On Saturday I tried my best to be excited to be at the Renaissance Fair with my friends. I happened to think I was very good at faking it. I'd been doing it for so long, but sitting where I am right now I can tell you I was miserable and that had nothing to do with my friends. Still, I powered through and had a nice day but by the time I got back home I crashed and did the thing where I holed up in my room and played Civ V for hours on end.

When Alex came to bed he was clearly agitated, restless. I asked him if everything was alright and he said he was itchy. I knew he was lying, but I was tired. He got up and left the bedroom, which isn't unusual when he can't get to sleep. By the time I woke up at 6 the next morning, I realized he still wasn't in bed. I went downstairs and found him on the futon. My heart dropped. He has never, in the almost 5 years of our relationship, slept on the couch. I asked him what was wrong. He sleepily told me he was agitated last night. There had been some miscommunication that day between us and it made him mad and he's not very good at expressing his needs or feelings. I was hurt and furious. I told him to go back to sleep and I went upstairs and tried to do the same, but I didn't. I tossed and turned for an hour, then went downstairs and sat on the couch and said those dreaded words, "We need to talk."

We needed to talk because our communication suffered because both of our brains are sick. We needed to talk because it was time for things to change and start feeling better. We needed to talk because for that hour I was in bed tossing and turning I was thinking about who I could stay with that week because I didn't want to stay in the house. I was that furious. We needed to talk because I wanted to call off the wedding. I was that hurt. We had a long, hard talk about the way things have been going. We both cried, and Alex doesn't cry very often. In the end, we had an action plan. As a mental health professional I know that any mental health problem must be tackled on three fronts: medication, talk therapy, and lifestyle changes. I had the appointments for the first two, so we addressed the last one.

First, no electronics in the bedroom. This cuts down on my isolating habits. Second, prioritize chores and fitness. These are important to our life and health. Third, communication. Do it more. Do it better. We got planners and committed to checking in every Sunday night about the following week so we can work as a team. By Monday I had a prescription for Lexapro. By Tuesday I had seen my therapist. Now, things are going really well.

What's most interesting to me in this whole process is how I'm experiencing life right now. I'd heard that depressed people often aren't aware that they're depressed for long periods of time because they lack perspective on what happiness truly is. I now understand that. I don't know if it's the medication or therapy or lifestyle changes or just placebo effect, but I feel really happy lately - really and truly happy. Like, I didn't know you could be this happy naturally. Like, it feels almost like I imagine feeling high does (I've never done any drugs). Is this what happy people feel like? I'm motivated. I smile for no reason. There's an excitement in my voice instead of an urgency or desperation. I've found true happiness.

What's next? What will I experience as I go forward? Probably some good and some bad, but I'm so happy about the way things have turned out so far.

Pretty Young Destructive Unloved Girls

Try to understand my damage.

***

She's just a kid who misses her daddy. They were so close and she can't understand what she did to make him go away, but she's sure it's her fault. Mommy is getting drunk and angry. When the kid messes up, she pays for it dearly. Black and blue and choking back tears because if she cries again, the beatings will never stop. She's pretty sure mommy will kill her. She's that angry. She hears, "You're worthless" and "You're a burden" but she never hears "I love you." She grows up angry because anger means power. She drives away every friend she has with lies about other horrible things that happened to her because somehow that's better than the nightmarish truth of her life.

But, she's pretty. She's just pretty enough. And charming. She's just charming enough. People flock to her and it's close enough to love. Predators feed on her and it's close enough to love. She drinks and takes risks and buys things and binge eats because it's close enough to love - the closest she's ever going to get. Because everyone leaves and she can't really be loved, not for long.

***

She's just a kid who misses her mommy. They were so close and she can't understand why she chose the drugs that killed her over the daughter who loved her, but she's sure it's her fault. Daddy lost another little girl and he's hurting. When the kid messes up, she's thrown away. Hungry and lost and nowhere to go because her family spits venom when they talk about "niggers." She's pretty sure they hate her mixed skin, too. She hears, "You're worthless" and "You're a burden" but she never hears, "I love you." She grows up angry because anger means strength. She drives away everyone who tries to help her because they'll just leave, too.

But, she's pretty. She's just pretty enough. And charming. She's just charming enough. People flock to her and it's close enough to love. Predators feed on her and it's close enough to love. She drinks and gets high and prostitutes herself because it's close enough to love - the closest she's ever going to get. Because everyone leaves and she can't really be loved, not for long.

***

She's just a kid who misses her daddy. They were so close and she can't understand why he chooses drugs over being in her life, but she's sure it's her fault. Mommy gets a new boyfriend and he doesn't like the kid. He beats her bloody and someone notices so she's sent to daddy. Daddy's girlfriend hates her and sends her to her ex who is actually nice. All she has to do is have sex with him. She hears, "You're worthless" and "You're a burden" but she never hears, "I love you" except from the lips of a pedophile. She grows up sad and confused because the only man she ever loved goes to jail when people find out. She hides the truth because no one will understand.

But, she's pretty. She's just pretty enough. And charming. She's just charming enough. People flock to her and it's close enough to love. Predators feed on her and it's close enough to love. She gets high and goes from bed to bed with boys and girls alike because it's close enough to love - the closest she's ever going to get. Because everyone leaves and she can't really be loved, not for long.

***

She's just a kid who misses her family. They were so close and she can't understand why everything changed, but she's sure it's her fault. Daddy gets a new wife who hates the kid and then he disappears. Mommy gets wasted every night and brings her and her brother to parties instead of getting a babysitter. She leaves just as soon as she can, but then her brother needs to stay with her and one night he sexually assaults her but no one will believe her. She hears, "You're worthless" and "You're a burden" but she never hears, "I love you." She grows up sad and directionless because she's drowning in her family sickness. She numbs out because it's better than feeling all of this.

But, she's pretty. She's just pretty enough. And charming. She's just charming enough. People flock to her and it's close enough to love. Predators feed on her and it's close enough to love. She shoots dope and drinks because it's close enough to love - the closest she's ever going to get. Because everyone hurts her and she can't really be loved, not for long.

***

I've been told I have a tough exterior, that I exude a strong personality. Inside of me lives a four-year-old and a fourteen-year-old. The four-year-old is scared. She hides and cries and is afraid of monsters. The fourteen-year-old is angry. She screams and lashes out and is afraid to be alone.

Try to understand my damage.