run

Free Run, Day 8

Thursday Sept 28th, 2023

POST-RUN MORTUM

Time Running: 47:55

Distance Achieved: 3.4

Tunage: The Girlfriends true crime podcast 

All in all, a very uneventful run this morning. Well, ok that’s not entirely true, I did see Ramona from RHONY in Riverside Park and we made eye contact. So that was an event, I suppose, but as far as the running, comsi comsa. I did my long run where I started up by me and then went all the way down to my doctor’s office on 73rd where I am currently waiting to be seen for my one-month checkup for Wegovy. 

I’m nervous. 

I have this incredible fear that they are going to decide to take me off of it, which is stupid, I know, since I am still in the onboarding phase of it all, but that fear is there. The fear that I’m maybe not on track, or that I didn’t hit the weight loss I was supposed to hit for this checkup. Which, again, is stupid since nothing like numbers were talked about and I am only four weeks into it. 

But still. There is that voice in my head that is wondering if I am somehow doing this wrong? Or if, perhaps, I have fucked up my body so much by all of the harm that I’ve done to it that even mefdication won’t work. I think that’s the thing that is stressing me out the most, you know? Because what then? And, if that is the case, how long will it take for my body to heal from all of the trauma and damage I’ve done to it? Is it even possible to recover from that? There is a part of me that is consigned to dealing with this for my whole life. I’m not blind to the fact that, like any kind of addiction, it is always kind of with you, you know? It’s why I always get uncomfortable when someone who has been sober for 25 years still considers themselves to be an alcoholic. Because I see myself in them. I see and recognize and fear and loathe and bemoan and keep coming back to the addiction within me. And it makes me sad and angry and terribly worried that I might not ever heal in a way where I can just trust myself enough to exist inside of myself. 

It’s a wild thing, living inside of an ED. Contrary to how this blog is written, particularly that last paragraph, it’s not on my mind 100% of the time. To be fair, it’s on my mind like, a great deal of the time, but there is room for other things. I write, I perform, I bake; I live my life as best I can inside of it, trying to shake hands with this little demon who has taken root inside of my soul. But there are moments like this morning, where that demon is so present and so at the forefront of my mind, it’s a wonder how I get anything done. 

Therapy tells me to unpack the thought, right? To give it credence and follow it down the path to see what would happen in a wworst-case scenario. And I know if I do that with this follow-up, if I think of the worst thing that could happen, I know that I would actually be alright. It is survivable. And I think that is something that we as a society in general could focus on in a more profound way. It is so easy for me to catastrophize and assume the worst, but what if I just skipped to the part where I knew I would be ok? 

I don’t know. 

What I do know is that my doctor is walking in. 

Hold please.

Ok. Major exhale, friends. The follow-up went really well. I have not lost any weight but I haven’t gained any weight. My doctor – who I officially switched to as my PCP – asked me how I was feeling about this process. Yes. He asked me how I was feeling. It took me aback as I am not used to a doctor asking me about my mental state in regard to my weight. When I tell you this is uncharted territory, I mean that from the depths of my fat little soul. I told him I was nervous that this wasn’t going to work. He looked at me and said, “Well, this doesn’t work for everyone, but you are only a month in, and you haven’t gained anything, so that’s good. Let’s give it some time. And remember this is not your only option, but it is your best option for right now.” 

The other option he meant was gastric bypass, which scares me in a way that doesn’t feel fully rational. Also, I don’t think that right now i necessarily need bypass. I’m in that weird in-between that I typically find myself in where I’m too big to be small, and too small to be acutely big. It’s incredibly frustrating and confusing, but it’s where I live. But this doctor is amazing. Truly. 

I don’t know who this man is nor where he comes from. I don’t know what wizard of bedside manner trained him in the ways of comforting patients, but good Christ what a breath of fresh air he is. He even gave me a flu shot. Just. Wow. I am bowled over by how at ease I feel with all of this. By how he has a long term plan for all of this. 

When I asked if I had lost any weight, I think he saw the disappointment on my face and reminded me again that we are only one month in and that the amount that I want to lose – which again is only around 25/30 pounds – puts me at a loss of 2lbs a month over the course of a year. I will be honest with you, it doesn’t feel like enough. And again, that is the disorder, right there. That is me taking in information from harmful, toxic outlets and the programming that I have been forcing on myself for the better part of two decades, because in reality? To lose 2lbs a month is healthy. That is the way to sustain and maintain. But that demon is screaming at me it should be 5lbs, 15lbs, 20lbs a month. And therein lies the rub, right? Because I know how to do that. And very “successfully,” too. But this doctor is not going to let that happen. And I think that is a good thing. As much as I’m not sure I trust it, as stubborn as I am that I could be losing more, he is scheduling follow-ups with me regularly, something my other doctor never did. I think there is going to be a continuous conversation. I think both of us are going to be held accountable. Is that scary? Yes, very much so. But I think if I’m ever going to truly heal from this, it is also necessary. This is me in recovery. This is me standing at the podium and taking responsibility for my actions, both past and present. 

And listen, bodies are weird, right? It’s possible that I will lose more than 2lbs a month just like it is possible that I won’t lose anything just like it is possible that I will gain. Bodies are fucking weird, and my body has been put through it in more ways than a body should, but she is also still standing and fighting for me. And she deserves the time and the space and the god damn respect that she has earned because of it.