Goodbye treatments?!??!

Guess what? I'm talking about my hair again. I feel comfort in knowing I'm not the only alopecian that has moments where their world revolves around their hair loss.

I looked in the mirror yesterday evening and discovered that I now have bald patches. Up till this point I just had seriously thinning hair, but now have spots (a few nearly dime sized) that are shiny and completely hair free. It was a shock to me and I didn't take it very well to say the least. I sat in the shower and cried and cried. I felt defeated. And that's when I decided to stop treatments.

I know that probably sounds a little strange. Here's my reasoning: the past few weeks I have felt increasingly awful. From bouts of severe nausea to episodes of dizziness. The only new thing in my life are the treatments. I'm having to use excess amounts of the topical stuff because my hairloss is so severe. Chances of systemic side effects are greater. And given that even if I did have hair grow back, it will fall out if I stop the treatments. I don't want to be dumping chemicals on my head for the rest of my life. I want to be beautiful and happy and healthy. I don't want to put toxic things on my head to MAYBE get results. It just is not worth it to me.

I'm closer to making the decision of buzzing my head. I hate myself right now because of how bad my hair looks, I can't hate myself any more once its gone. If anything I hope it helps me live a free life. I won't have to see the hair all over my pillow and all over my bathroom floor. I will no longer see the handfuls in the shower. It will be relief. Sweet sweet relief. My friend even said he would shave his head too. I have the best friends ever.

I still find myself having moments in the middle of a good day where I feel really crappy. Where I look in the mirror and hate what I see. It can turn a good moment upside down. I find it hard to move past these moments but I keep trying. I try to live on the faith and trust that I have in my relationship with my boyfriend and with my family. Faith that I will be loved and found to be beautiful regardless of what's happening. I need to focus on the trust that I will not be left alone. It's a challenge, but I accept it and I work on it daily.

So thank you to everyone who has listened to my bitching. To those who have received text after text about my hairloss, bald spots, depression- I love you so. This journey is far from over, but its because of all of you that I have gotten this far.

Panic at the Niko

I am having anxiety attacks these days. I wrote a whole blog about it but my text program on my ipad took a crap and killed it. So today I start over (somewhat) and add on some new bits and pieces.

So yeah, anxiety. As I write this I'm coming down from what would have been a big anxiety attack. Thank god for medication. Between puppy sitting and having a rambunctious child, sometimes its hard to break away when anxiety strikes. After much thinking on the possible causes, I think the anxiety is a combination of two things- one being my job, two being my hair. The job thing I'm sure ill elaborate more on later. The second, the hair, is what caused my anxiety today.

I have officially started treatment for the alopecia. I am using three topical treatments on my head, all together. One is an antibiotic, one is a steroid, and the last is the Rogaine. Today was my first day using the steroid. It will be used twice daily for two weeks, a two week break, and then resume 2 on and 2 off for a total of three months. The side effects are burning, acne, and thinning skin. Also because it is a potent corticosteroid there is a chance of it being absorbed systemically, which is part of why I am to take two week breaks. Anyhow, I put it on my hair and the result was horrid. Not only did it burn (and now itch like crazy) but its in an oil type suspension. I look like I just rubbed a handful of oil through my very thin hair. I'll tell you, there's no way I will be going out in public looking like this.

The more I looked at my hair the more upset I became. The Rogaine was already making my hair feel straw like and now it looks like I haven't washed it in days. It just makes me feel so ugly that I can't help but cry. That sounds ridiculously vain and kind of stupid as I read it back, but its honest. I put a scarf on my head and then felt even worse. I don't know how to get through this without crushing what little self esteem I have. Bleh.

I keep thinking about the wigs I ordered. I've had a few people make negative comments about how long one of them is. I know people talk and not everyone will understand or be supportive. I am trying my best to just look at the wig thing positively, as many of my friends have said.

This is just so damn hard to go through. I can't even make my words help people understand. It's devastating. I feel so incredibly sad. I'm constantly looking for distractions and things to make me smile. I'm struggling to get through basic days. I feel weak because all of my life, no matter what was happening to me I was able to pull my shit together and not get stuck in depression. I never had anxiety attacks, even after my dads suicide. But here I am with my hair falling out and its like all of my coping mechanisms are broken. What happened to the strong person inside of me?

I Know people feel weak sometimes. I know that everything I'm feeling has been felt before. Today is just a day where I struggle to remind myself that it gets better. I'm lucky- I have a wonderful support system of best friends, new family, and my wonderful children. I'm going to get through this BECAUSE of them and FOR them. I'm having a rough time right now but soon I'll be better. I know this in my heart because I recognize it, acknowledge it, and take steps to make it better.

On a random yet related side note: I've gone gluten free starting today. For the first time in a long time my stomach hasn't hurt AT ALL today. I know there will be a learning curve here but I'm already happy to have one good gut day.

So that's all for now. I'm gonna go snuggle the puppy. Thanks friends for reading.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

How uncreative of a title, right? I guess in a way I'm still trying to find the fun and humor in my diagnosis. I had my scalp biopsied last Thursday and got my diagnosis a week later. Diagnosis: alopecia areata.

For people who don't know what this is let me try to explain what I've learned so far. It's an autoimmune disorder where your immune system attacks your hair follicles, making your hair fall out. They explain it like your hair follicles go dormant and just stop making hair. Typically people with alopecia areata will lose hair in circular spots all over their head. I have a diffuse form where I have lost hair from my entire head. If I had to guess I'd say in the past two years I've lost over 50% of the hair on my head. This disease does not mean I have a weak immune system. On the contrary it often signifies the immune system is great and so effective it starts to hurt itself. Strange isn't it?

The thing that is hard about this disease is that its different for everyone. The doctors can't tell me how much more hair I will lose or what treatments will work for me. They can't tell me if a treatment does work that my hair won't fall out again either immediately after treatment or years down the road. There have been people with alopecia areta that lose all of their hair over a 2 week period and their disease turns into a bigger form of alopecia (totalis or univeralis). It's scary to have unknowns like that.

My doctor wants me to make a follow up appointment (which I will do when the office is open Monday) and begin treatments. She wants to use a squaric acid treatment on my head which supposedly irritates the scalp and sends white blood cells to the surface, making your follicles come back to life and in the end making your hair grow again. The side effect of this treatment is a poison ivy type rash all over your head that will hurt and itch. It may also discolor the skin on my scalp. Sounds fun right? Even worse is the percent of regrowth for people that have had the significant hair loss that I have is only about 40-60%, with many people losing their hair once treatments stop. Also as a side note I think my eyebrows are thinning again. I looked at them yesterday and feel like they are a lot smaller and thinner. My eyelashes however seem to be the same. When my hair fell out heavily two years ago my eyelashes and eyebrows thinned a lot but grew back. Nothing I can do to prevent that though.

To be honest, when I read my biopsy results I broke down crying immediately. I went inside the house and locked myself in the bathroom so the kids would not see me cry. I mourned the loss of my hair and I searched for the strength in myself to help me deal with these facts. I kept asking why me. I kept thinking about the fact that I may never have my hair back or that it may continue to fall out despite treatments. I felt embarrassed for myself. I felt embarrassed for my boyfriend. I feel like the worlds eyes are on me and people are wondering what's wrong with me and wondering why my hair looks so bad. I know people are assholes. I can't control what others think. It just kills me that people may think bad things toward my boyfriend for his freaky balding girlfriend. Or think bad things toward my kids or toward my friends. *sigh*

I started using women's minoxidil at my dermatologists suggestion (while waiting for biopsy results). I told a few coworkers and a few snickered at knowing I was using "Rogaine". It made me feel painfully embarrassed. I'm already self conscious about the fact you can see my scalp through my hair, and now even more upset that it could get worse instead of better. It made me feel even more afraid to try treatments that will leave noticeable marks on my scalp (bumps, redness, flakes, etc) that I won't be able to hide without covering my head. I don't even know if my employer would let me use something like a navy blue chemo wrap to protect my scalp during treatments and help prevent me from feeling more embarrassed than I already do. I need to work up the courage to ask.

My only real complaint about the Rogaine treatment so far (aside from the dermatologist telling me the incorrect strength to get) is that its drying out my hair. It also makes my hair feel like its got gunk in it (similar to the way lots of hairspray would make it feel). I don't like it. Makes my already sad hair look sadder. I'm seriously thinking of cutting it off while I start treatments. No point in having sad little bits of long hair hanging from an irritated scalp. Not like seeing it makes me feel better. Sometimes I feel like if it were gone I'd have less time focusing on how sad it looks... I've been fighting the urge to shave my head all day. I've got nearly half an inch of blonde showing already. Blah, I keep crying. Talk about feeling crazy.

After doing more and more reading about alopecia I also spent money on a cheap wig to play around with at home. I don't know if I can ever bring myself to wear it out in public or to work. I struggle with that whole fake aspect and that people I work with or interact with will know its a wig. I even feel embarrassed about potentially wearing it. I feel embarrassed about my boyfriend having a girlfriend that has to wear a wig. I mean, what if it fell off? What activities would I have to refrain from with a wig on? To think of how embarrassing it would be to fall off during sex!?! In a small way I do like the idea of changing wigs like you change accessories. Be someone new every day. It's a neat idea, even if its one that I will struggle with.

The more I learn about the disease the more I keep feeling upset. 1 in 5 children born to a parent with alopecia will get the disease as well (from alopecia areata to full alopecia universalis). I may end up giving this to my children and they will have to feel all these things that I am. It's a horribly sad feeling...

This diagnosis is definitely a roller coaster of emotion for me. I can be fine one minute and sad the next. This is all normal I'm sure. It does make me feel a little unstable though.
,
What I worry about most is that I DONT want people to feel sorry for me, or pity me, or wish thing different for me. This is just what it is for me. As Ginny said to me- its an opportunity to learn my body better and to get people to help me feel better as well. I can't make this disease go away but I can be as positive as possible about it. If anything this is an opportunity to become a stronger person. I am not my hair. I need to keep my head up and also show my children that people are different (some lose their hair) and that inside we are the same. That people that are different than them are just as awesome as them inside and out.

My hair may come or it may go (and maybe go all the way) but who I am inside will stay strong and stable. I may still cry and I may still mourn what I don't (and may never) have but that doesn't mean the disease is conquering me. It just means I'm learning to be better.

If anything this diagnosis just serves as an excellent excuse to start wearing more hats and beanies.

Singing the blues

First off: Its interesting to see that I'm typing this from my new wireless keyboard and my ipad. So glad to not have to carry around my broken computer in order to write some stuff down. My computer being broken has made writing and blogging much less fun.

Current music: Zwan - Mary Star Of The Sea <3 p="">Current mood: Depressed.

I've been living the past month in a perpetual state of "I'm about to start bawling but keep pushing it down." Its not fun and its not pretty. Instead of going away its starting to numb me out more and more. I came to terms with this the other night when my boyfriend asked me what I wanted to do (because he wants me to pick something that will make me happy) and I couldn't give an answer. Now I will say that I am generally very easy going and don't mind doing much of anything, usually happy to do what HE wants to do, but thats not the issue here. The issue is that I couldn't come up with an answer because there isn't anything that will make me feel happy. I feel numb, so its hard to say, "I want to watch Dexter" or "I want to go for a walk" or whatever other thing I may normally enjoy doing because those things don't bring me joy right in this moment. Depression is painfully annoying that way.

I came to terms with my depression last year after talking to a friend about it. I've suffered from small bouts of depression my whole life, usually coming to surface due to being unhappy about a common thing (weight, work, etc). They all stem from a common tree though - the dislike I have of myself. When my depression rears its ugly head I usually hate myself for a little bit but am able to pull myself out of it. This feels a little different. Its more intense. Its more life sucking. I want it to go away, therefore I must face it and perhaps writing about this will help.

The annoying thing about depression is when people don't understand. Allie from Hyperbole and a Half said it best in her most recent blog (please look her up if you haven't, she is fucking hilarious). So as I was saying, its annoying when people don't understand. I'm not CHOOSING to feel sad. I'm not waking up every morning WANTING to feel like shit. Its just something that happens. I try to do things that will "cheer me up" but the thing with depression is you start to not care as much about those things, and eventually there aren't things that make you really happy. I'm fighting to not get to that point. I'm still in the numb state where most things don't appeal to me, but once I force myself to do them I do still derive some happiness from them. People cant cheer me up or make me better. The thing with feeling depressed is that I need to make it better on my own.

Here's the part that gets sticky - its hard to write honestly about this because I don't want people feeling like they don't bring me joy or don't improve the quality of my life. They CAN and they DO. More than they probably know, especially given the fact that I do fall down into a depressed pit every now and then. When your friend is depressed its easy to take their unhappiness personally. I've been there. I've had depressed friends (before coming to terms with my own depression) where I've felt like maybe they didn't like me, or didn't like spending time with me. But now that I've grown up a little and faced this ugly depression, I realize that maybe spending time with me was a thing that was keeping their feet on the ground. I often feel that about my friends. If it wasn't for them I know I'd feel a lot worse. Because of my depression I try to be better for friends that have felt what I feel, or may feel a similiar feeling from time to time.

I don't worry that I will be devoured by my depression the way my father has and the way my mother tried to. Suicide isn't a thing that interests me. I WANT to live, even if I am living with a person I hate most (myself). Life IS beautiful, even if its stressful and even if at times it just brings me way down. I still stop to smell the flowers from time to time. I catch frogs. I stand on my deck, eyes closed, and just breathe. I still cry, a lot (at least a few times a week) but I know even that will get better. Plus theres nothing wrong with crying. Its cleansing I suppose and hell, its better than bottling it all up. I still have a lot of really wonderful moments, days, weeks, months despite my depression. People still make me feel incredible and happy. I'm just trying to explain that there's always this little dark thing hovering there that sometimes makes me sad despite all of the wonderful I have.

I've had people ask me what it is that is making me depressed. To be honest, sometimes its nothing. Sometimes my life is going great and my mind decides to go in the shitter. There are moments where I feel I'm at war with my own head, like it wants to be miserable even in times of joy. Its fucked up like that. I also feel safe writing that because I know for damn sure there are others that have felt the same way. But anyhow, I suppose the three things making me most depressed right now are: 1. My hair, 2. My job, 3. My weight.

My hair is an ongoing mystery. I recently took out a bunch of old pictures so I could see when this problem started. At first I thought it all started when my ex and I were going to divorce (2011). However, I realize my hair had started to thin the few years before that. It went slowly though, not like the loss I experienced in 2011 and have continued to experience. At first it was a very very gradual thinning. In 2011 I started losing handfuls of hair from all over my head. That extreme loss slowed, but has never stopped. I still lose small handfuls in the shower. I still have a pillow case covered in my hair most mornings. I can run my hand through my hair and lose a dozen hairs (at the root, not from breakage). Lately one side seems to be losing more than the other (my right side is crazy thin compared to my left). I still don't know why this is happening. I need to go see my new doctor and talk about this (but of course don't have the extra $40 laying around). He's run bloodwork and its always normal. My last thought was maybe it was my birth control (after looking it up online I read many women experienced hair loss on my birth control, so maybe?)

I can still hear my dad say " a woman's hair is her crowning glory" and it makes me laugh. It always did. And as I lose more of my hair it makes me wonder what my crowning glory is going to be once I'm bald. Hair is such a huge piece of who a person is. Hairstyles can be a big part of a person. While this all sounds a little vain and a like I'm too concerned about whats on the surface of a person, just sit and think about it a little. When you look in the mirror, what do you see? Your hair is part of you even on a "bad hair day". Its part of who you are, part of your look as a person. Every day I look in the mirror and I feel like I'm mourning the loss of something. I try really hard to not focus on it, and instead focus on who I am as a person. I know I'm kind and caring, creative, friendly, etc. I know my good qualities as well as I know my bad. But I don't know how to love myself this way. I don't know how to look in the mirror and overlook the thinning hair and the ever showing scalp. Even going for a haircut these days ALWAYS prompts the hairdresser to comment on how thin my hair is. It's been the same for the past two years. "Wow your hair is SO THIN!" or "Are you doing chemo?" or "how is your thyroid?" They always want to tell me what I'm doing wrong in their eyes or what tests to have my doctor do. Its the same story. I know they are trying to help, but for once I'd like to just go get my haircut without them reminding me of something I cant ignore no matter how much I try. Really though, my hair has become so thin that no matter how I cut it it looks like shit. It cant "hold a style" because there isn't enough hair to make into anything. (As I write this I pause and touch my hair. It makes me tear up, not gonna lie. I wish I knew what the fuck was happening to me.)

There are days I just want to shave my head but I know that it wont help how I feel about myself. If anything I will feel worse than I already do. Say goodbye to the very last dregs of my self esteem.

2. Work. Its just too much to write about. However, on a side note I have began to research going back to school and what I'd like to do. Stay tuned for that at a later date. I'm looking into potentially teaching art therapy or something involving teaching/creativity.

3. Weight: Its the yo yo game. Because of my hair (and the incessant research I do about it) I decided not to do the lemonade cleanse. I worry it will make more of my hair fall out due to "Crash dieting". *sigh* So I'm back to square one, which is figuring out what to do about my weight. I need to cut out the crap and stop my emotional eating. Its not helping me anymore anyway. It just perpetuates the vicious cycle that I'm in.

While I feel like I haven't said all I wanted to say, I do feel a small sense of relief. I got some stuff off of my chest thats been sitting in there for a while. I can breathe a little better.

Xo

Not quite cleansing yet

Today was a good day.

The kids and I walked around the mall. We played video games. We ate good meals. I enjoy the space in which I live. It was just a really really good day.

That being said its partially because I haven't started the cleanse yet.

Now wait, it isn't because I am not going to. I am just the queen of not quite thinking things through and realized that if I start the cleanse this weekend, a lot of food (produce mainly) will be going bad in my fridge. I don't have my kids after tomorrow, so all the perishable goods would be going to waste. Therefore I will eat, and try to be mindful of my eating, and once I am able and not wasting food I will start the cleanse. Just figured I would lay that out there.

Also decided to spend a little of my tax money on myself, which is both difficult and wonderful. I'm not one to splurge much (ask about the $12 lotion that took me months to finally buy).
But today I decided I needed the following: 
1 luxury item: new plugs for my ears
1 needed item: new pair of shoes (my chucks need to be chucked)
1 somewhat needed item: a haircut

And smoothies for all of us. I felt less stress today that I have in a while. I enjoyed my kids company while shopping. Everyone behaved (for the most part). There were zero meltdowns by any of us. And I even had the guy at Hot Topic say that 1984 was a good vintage (meaning my birth year). I guess I'm not that old after all. That and he was a 1984 vintage as well.

So here's to today. The sun is still shining, time to soak it up.
xo

Dirty little secret

It's really strange to find myself wanting to blog about things from my past. I think it comes from a place of cleansing. A place of wanting to rid myself of feelings and memories so that they can perhaps stop clouding my mind at the strangest times.

While cleaning up from cooking breakfast this morning I felt an all too familiar feeling of insecurity creeping into my mind. I had be texting with the boyfriend and felt that nagging feeling of "you're texting too much". Now he has not told me this and has actually told me directly that I don't text too much. We have had full on conversations about this. So where was this coming from? I know in part it comes from a conversation the boyfriend and I had the other night. I got really upset at something and I know a big part of it was from past emotions, past feelings. He had acted a way that was very different than he normally does and I felt my inner self panic. While he said he was fine and he was kind to me, I remembered well the feeling of loving someone who pretended to love you back. Because his actions were so different my gut was telling me something was wrong despite what his words were telling me. I know that he loves me, like really does love me, but that feeling nagged at me. So today I started playing connect the dots and it brought me back to another moment with my ex.

Long ago my ex husband and I used to chat on the computer while he was at work. I'm sure somewhere in my gmail account you can find chats between the two of us that date back to 2007-2008, before we really were that unhappy. It made me remember times that were closer, 2010+, where he would tell me he didn't have time to talk to me during the day, that I messaged too much, that he was busy and to stop. It became a thing that irritated him and I felt discarded. That feeling then went to another dot, another negative memory of him chatting with others. In particular it made me remember the minor; the young girl (of only 15 when he started talking to her), that he would chat with.

I knew about them talking. Of course he said he thought she was 18 when they began their "friendship" but soon he discovered she was 15 when they started talking (and was now 16). She was in high school, didn't even have her drivers permit, let alone a license or car, and sometimes hitch hiked to school. She chain smoked. She drank on camera (online). She seemed like a sad girl. Part of me felt bad for her for the situation her life was in. The other part felt bad about the fact that an adult, with children and a wife, was talking to her... I struggled with this and tried to be understanding but one day my ex husband left his chat open on the laptop we shared and I saw all the things he was saying to her. "you're a real catch" he says. He tells her how attractive she is. He talks to her about sex and her sexual exploits with others. He talks to her about some older guy who she got mad at because he wanted more, yet here was my ex saying all of these things. He went "shopping" at the market she worked at, coming home with a bag of apples, yet full groceries from another store. "but I like their produce" he would say to me, and "no she's not working today". I felt sick, I felt angry. (And as a side note I found out that the day he bought the apples was a day he met her at her work. He lied to me, to my face accusing me of being "crazy and paranoid". I kept telling myself that maybe I was crazy, and that I was just a jealous wife... but then I heard the story from HER mouth. He went to meet her and tried to make me feel like I was making it up. Ugh.) I felt like a father and husband should not have a friendship like this with someone I viewed as a child. What if she found a way to get him in trouble? What if he ended up in jail because of something she said, something she pins on him (the adult), and he misses out on his kids?

He and another friend took her to a concert where his friend bought her alcohol. They all got high. *sigh* I had married a real piece of work. I struggle with this, I struggle with wondering what his current girlfriend thinks of this man. Does she know of his past transgressions? What would she say? She seems so normal and nice, she treats my children well. Sometimes she reminds me of the girl I used to be. I wonder if she knows but doesn't care. I don't know what bothers me more.

So internet, here it is. One little dirty detail from my past. I know in a way its just my ramblings and my own way to get this out of me. It's not something I want to think about anymore. I want this memory and the feelings associated with it gone. Its gross and its dirty. It reminds me of the ugly person I had become, digging for all the truths through the lies he told me. I snooped and I looked for more and of course I kept finding it. I was bad for looking, and he was bad for lying. It was a disgusting dynamic that we had created and brewed in our home. I'm glad its over. More glad that I could ever explain. I'm a much healthier person now. I'm happier. And dating someone you can actually communicate with and be completely honest with… it's a breath of fresh air. I am so lucky to be in love with such a man as I am today. Thanks to him I can continue to grow and learn and be so very happy.

WE ARE WHAT WE EAT

My computer is running so slowly that I have doubts this blog will ever get published. If you're reading this then I suppose the internet gods have been good to me. Take warning: my thoughts are scattered and I have so many feelings that this blog may be all over the map.

Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to talk about food.

Sitting in front of me is a book that I followed for a total of 12 hours before ordering Round Table Pizza (back in 2008). The book is "The Master Cleanser" and it contains the work of Stanley Burroughs (who sounds like quite the quack).
It's staring me down. It's taunting and tempting me. Why do I feel like cleansing again? (This time perhaps for longer than 12 hours before failing miserably...)

I have an unhealthy relationship with food and I have had this relationship my whole life. Like most unhealthy relationships, sometimes it is hard to get out despite your best efforts. At times I feel like I'm trying to break up with an abusive boyfriend. I mean, food makes me feel good... some of the time. Food also makes me feel a lot of other things - sad, grumpy, tired, fat, bloated, angry. Yeah, I said angry. I have to give myself a little credit though, because admitting the problem is the first step to recovery. I've also come a long way from where I was and I have started to admit that I like some vegetables. Let me start from the beginning.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Nichole. She was a fat kid with asthma and a heart condition whose evil mother wouldn't let her do any type of physical activity. She was a cutie - blonde with freckles and a round little squishy body. She wanted to be a cheerleader but her mother said she was too fat. She wanted to play soccer but her mother said she was too fat. So poor little fat Nichole just ate...

Okay so thats just the bad stuff but seriously, I was significantly overweight as a child. I was made fun of by my peers. I couldn't wear normal clothes like all of my friends. This was largely due to my inactivity and to the way that I ate. Growing up I don't remember vegetables or fruits being a large part of my diet. I'm sure I ate them; things like broccoli dipped in mayo, apple slices dipped in caramel, etc. I had frozen burritos with half a container of sour cream, mayo sandwiches on white bread, regular dinners of Little Caesars pizza and crazy bread, Ramen noodles, crackers with cream cheese... Despite my best efforts to remember some sort of positive eating, I cant.

When I started going through puberty things were even worse for me. First of all I started puberty really early, developing breasts when I was in third grade and then starting my period when I was 12. I started getting curves and boobs and my already large body began to twist and change yet stay big. I was made fun of a lot in elementary school. My mom decided this was when I should start going on "diets". When I was 12 she put me on a fad diet of the 90's, which involved counting fat grams. You couldn't eat more than 25 fat grams a day (yes, here I am 17 years later and I remember the exact fucking number of fat grams I couldn't go above). She put me in a leotard and took me along with her to Jazzercise. I was mortified. She constantly harassed me about what I ate. It's surprising that even though I had a 25 g of fat limit, I still didn't eat fruits and vegetables. This is when all the "diet" foods were stocked in our house - fat free popcorn, fat free desserts, fat free yogurts, etc. Everything was FAT FREE or LOW FAT, but that didn't mean it was healthy (which I will get into later). Did this diet work? Sure. I lost 30 pounds and went down to 120 pounds on my 5'3" frame. It was a good change and I was finally feeling like I fit in, right before my teenage years.

Junior high was good to me - I was able to exercise in PE. In elementary school my mom signed notes prohibiting me from exercise, but at 12 my cardiologist signed the ALL CLEAR for my heart and that gave my mom a little comfort. I stayed in the 120 pound range until mid way through high school. Did my eating get any healthier? Nope. I still ate tons of low fat/fat free commercially made crap. Fruits and vegetables were foreign options for me.

Junior year I started to gain weight. I fluctuated between 120 and 140 pounds until I graduated at close to 150 pounds. I went on the depo shot for birth control and rapidly gained  and went up to 180 pounds. I went to the gym, I did my "25 grams of fat" diet and could not drop a single pound. The doctors sent me to nutritionists because they didn't believe I was actually trying to lose weight. I ate like the nutritionist said - cereal for breakfast, non fat milk, boneless/skinless chicken, etc. I couldn't drop any weight. I became depressed and eventually ballooned up to 190 pounds. Around this time my boyfriend at the time lost his job and we moved in with my mom. She knew how unhappy I was so she put me on a diet. This time I went on Weight Watchers.

Weight Watchers. Points. Counting and counting and counting. It was hell but it was so similar to the "25 fat grams" diet because I ate the same types of food, but this time they were calculated differently. Kashi cereal, chicken, broccoli (with fat free mayo), crackers, etc. I drank a lot of diet sodas. The only positive is I started walking on the treadmill and eventually I did lose weight. I dropped down to 150 pounds and my mom took me shopping. I will never forget the comment she made to me in the dressing room.… I had picked up a black, cotton, strapless dress. It had a cute little burgundy rope belt. It was a size 14, which was smaller than I had worn since high school. Anyhow, I tried the dress on and though "man, I look really good!" I was so proud of myself! I looked at my mom and asked what she thought. Her reply, "Well you still look big.…" What? I still look big? Thats how you tell your kid what you think of their dress? *sigh*

2007: After the birth of my daughter and death of my father in 2006, my mom gifts me with her leftover Nutrisystem for my 23rd birthday.
2008: My mother buys me memberships to Weight Watchers.
2009: 90% Raw/Vegan to help with my (undiagnosed at the time) IBS
2010: My mother gifts me with membership to Jenny Craig

And here I am. I continue to punish myself for any "bad" food that I eat. I weigh 172 on a good day, coming from once weighing 253 pounds at my highest. I know i'm doing okay because I'm "healthy" - no high blood pressure, no diabetes, no longer feeling joint pain. But somehow I still feel trapped in a fat body and it makes me crazy. I was losing weight steadily (without really trying) for about a year and then it stopped. I want to blame it on stress or blame it on carbs or blame it on Satan. I don't know really. Mostly I blame it on myself, because thats the right thing to do. I live in a constant state of punishment, and thats what I'm trying to change.

But what's the RIGHT WAY to eat? Where is my path to enlightened eating?! If only it were easy! There are so many opinions on what the "correct way" is - Veganism, Paleo, Raw, South Beach, Weight Watchers, Keto, Atkins, "healthy and balanced", etc etc etc. It makes your head spin. One diet banishes fruit, one diet banishes carbs. Paleo says eat like a cave man, but veganism says eat no meat. All of these "diets" and ways of eating have strong points. Some are just full of bullshit. Fads vs way of life. How do you decide? This is my problem. I want to lose weight - do I cut carbs? Cut meat? Eat all meat? Go into an unhealthy state of ketosis and kill my fat? Go 100% raw and eat "raw chili (aka salsa)" for dinner? My brain is so trained on fad diets that I'm constantly mentally whipping myself for every piece of bread I eat or every avocado I decide to indulge in. Fat is good, fat is bad. Carbs are the devil. On top of this my IBS is out of control and because of that I'm punishing myself for pretty much anything I put in my body because everything makes my stomach hurt. I know that its stress that makes me feel that, but I still blame it on the food and therefore blame it on myself. The only thing I pride myself in is drinking probiotic beverages regularly. Aside from that I cant seem to take vitamins on a regular basis, let alone remember to eat the right things every day. *sigh again*

So that brings me back to Mr Stanley Burroughs and his Lemonade Diet. Yes, its another fad, but it's a fad that makes sense to me. You see, despite my wrecked diet induced brain, I know that we are what we eat. Thats the bottom line. WE ARE WHAT WE EAT. We live in a world of convenience and convenience foods. We no longer reach for healthy food to fuel our bodies, we reach for the things that are easy. I do believe we are not meant to eat so many of these processed foods - crackers, chips, etc. America as a whole is getting fatter. "aint nobody got time for that" exercise and healthy eating. We are stuck in the viscous cycle of no time and convenience. I am a victim of this as well. So if I am what I eat, that means I can detox and get rid of the crap thats in me and stat fresh right? I suppose thats the thought behind The Master Cleanser. I want to be better. I want to feel healthier. I want to eat fresher. I WANT A DAMN FARM (but thats a thought for another blog, another day). I just feel like maybe, just maybe, detoxing will help me get where I want to be.

Today I say goodbye to a lot of crap. Tomorrow I start The Master Cleanser and start the lemonade diet. I am setting the goal of 5 days. I will follow his diet for a total of 7, meaning 5 on the lemonade, 1 day recovery juices, 1 day juices and soups, then day 8 back to "a healthy diet". I'm going to hate everything in about 36 hours, mostly hating myself for doing it. Detox is rough. Mood swings, cravings, stomach issues. Can I survive this? Can I go without Juanita's on Sunday? I want to say yes. I want to be proud of myself for sticking to something insane. Its just 5 days.

Can you stick with me for 5 days?

Prepare for lots of angry, detox induced blogs. I'm going to blog daily to document my experience, typing out all of the nitty gritty details of the experience. The book says to prepare for lots of time in the bathroom. Can I be more excited?!

Lets hope that next weekend I'm a new me. A happier me. A healthier me. And if not, well, I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually.