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Reaching out before it's too late

Lately, it seems like I have become the confessional for my friends. I know the secrets, fears and hopes of many people. Confession is good for the soul. 
I am glad to be an outlet for them but sadly I haven’t confess much back.

So I make my confessions here. I love my new job. I feel energized and hope I am making a difference. I feel like I am being challenged again.

On the surface things look great but truthfully, I am scared and  I am slipping. I have lost weight. It hasn’t been a conscious effort but it has happened. I have went from a size 4-6 range to probably size four and dropping. I am not restricting and I eat two meals a day. But the meals may not be the most healthy.

Being honest, the move was stressful, quick and wiped out me out financially. I am having trouble reconnecting with my old friends. I am not the same person I was six years ago when I live here. At that time, I was firmly in ED’s grip. I had pretty much decided that ED would eventually kill me. And when I lost my job in 2008, I relapse hard.

Since then, I have come a long way. But I am not the same person I was. I am a little more guarded and lot more reclusive. I maintain contact but have kept many at arms length.

But in the last few months with no insurance, I have stopped taking my meds. I have insurance again. I am at the crossroads of finding a new therapist, doctor and getting back on meds or not.
I really don’t want to be on meds but at the same time I can’t really afford to relapse, have an episode and end up in the hospital.
In the last few weeks, there have been some signs that tell me I need help.

Moment 1: I have a little stomach pooch. No matter how much I workout, it will not go away. I have made peace with it. I wore a cute dress last week to interview a new town clerk. The first thing she ask me was how far along was I. I tried not to let it bother me but it did. I skipped dinner and ate some string cheese. I ate  much better the same day but still was shaken by it.

Moment 2: I am very motivated to get my work done. For the newspaper, I average about 10 stories. I think this is pretty good for a weekly newspaper. But once I get home, I am not motivated to do anything.  I just want to veg on the couch with a bag of Doritos and watch Lifetime movies. I know I am depressed because I miss my friends and my life in RR. A big move like this is hard.

I needed to get this off my chest. There are so many things going on in my life right now that I should share with my bff and others but I just can’t so I write.

Writing has always helped me when I couldn’t express it verbally. I have googled the name and number of the family practice in Pickleland. I just need to make the call. There is so much more at stake.

In my previous stint in Pickleland, there were many stints on the psych floor along with a suicide attempt. I have returned and the folks at my new job don’t know about the past. I wanted to be as well-adjusted as possible. I realize that no man is an island and that asking for help is not a sign of weakness. I think I should make that call.

1. Thankful to know when a problem is becoming overwhelming.
2. The sun is shining and the birds are singing.
3. Being able to track down an elusive person on deadline for a comment.


  1. I cannot believe people are still commenting on your body that way. It seems like you are okay with where you are at but darn people can't keep their mouth shut. Definitely make that call! You know when something is not "right" and this is the time to take steps before it gets bad.


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