You are currently browsing the monthly archive for May 2008.
I almost didn’t go into the class. I stood on the threshold, looking anxiously around the dimly-lit studio, assessing the situation. This was not my regular yoga class, not my usual yoga instructor, and I was feeling deeply unsure that this class was going to work out well for me.
Why the trepidation, especially when I love yoga so very dearly?
Well everyone in the class was skinny. And there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just that I’ve noticed that the kind of yoga instructors who are good at adapting yoga poses to different body types tend to attract students of different body types. When I see a class full of wiry students, taught by a wiry teacher, I get a little nervous.
But I really wanted a yoga session that day and this was the only one on the menu. So I went in and plopped my fat booty down on a mat and hoped for the best.
Things started off all-right, with some chanting of Om’s and a bit of centering meditation. Then we started right in with some flows. The teacher was exactly as I feared he would be – presenting every pose in exactly one way and not giving any modifications or any instructions or assistance for those of us who needed props to get the job done. He seemed like a totally nice and chill dude, and he was great at demonstrating the asanas. And he made a point to call out the few students who were especially strong and flexible for their good work.
But. When it came to telling me how to make a pose work for my body, he totally wiffed. Lucky for me, I’ve been practicing yoga for a long time and I have some experience with modifying poses and using the props. Seriously, if this class (which was billed as all-levels) had been my introduction to yoga, I’d probably never have come back. You would think that if you loved something enough to teach it, you’d want to make it accessible to as many people as possible – but then again, I’m not doing so hot in my Logic class, so don’t trust my reasoning.
Things went from frustrating to uncomfortable when the teacher announced that we’d be doing some partner work. First up – some preparation for locust pose, in which one partner was to lay on her stomach while the other partner sat upon the prone partner’s legs and pulled her arms back (click the link and look at the picture!). Of course, I was freaking out that I was going to totally crush my tiny little partner or pull her arms out of their sockets or something – but it all worked out fine and she was way cool. Whew!
Then we worked on wheel pose, which is a backbend. We were supposed to spot our partners, which was no problem. My partner went first, and did a beautiful backbend. When my turn came, I was feeling pretty relaxed and groovy, because I’ve been working on this particular pose for a while. Just as I was ready to push up, the instructor finally noticed my existance and ran over to help my partner spot me. I guess he was afraid I might fall over and hurt her or she might bust a gut trying to life my fat ass, I don’t know…but he sure did book it over to us.
I did my backbend, and the instructor actually sputtered. He definitely seemed caught off-guard, and asked dubiously: Have you done this before? WTF? I didn’t know whether to be proud of myself for busting a stereotype or angry at him for being such a tool. I was keeping up with the class the whole hour, no thanks to him. Did he really think I was totally inexperienced? Is that how he treats all newcomers to yoga? Bah! (He did recoup minor credit for quickly recovering and telling me I did a “beautiful job.”)
In the end, I was feeling to good to be angry (thanks, yoga!) but I am definitely going to speak to him next time I take his class. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt, and assume that he’s just not had many fat students. But he’s got one now, and he’s going to have to adapt and make sure that his class is safe and beneficial for me and any other fatties who might wander in.
And can I say how strong I am feeling in myself, and how glad and proud I am that I didn’t turn around and walk out of that class when I was having my moment of indecision? I have grown so much in the past six months, learning to take risks and even feeling ok to put myself into uncomfortable situations so that I can grow. This is pretty remarkable, considering that when I was abusing opiates, my main goal in life was to avoid any kind of discomfort whatsoever. And I’m rediscovering the things that I used to do to make myself feel “high” – by which I mean “happy.” It’s not always (ever) easy, and I know that I still owe a lot of my stability to suboxone, but I am feeling better than I have in years – and I love it.
Erin has a good post up right now about the ebbs and flows of recovery (and life in general). She makes a great point about doing the work we need to do when we’re feeling good and able to to it, because this is the work that will sustain us during the hard times. She’s totally right, and I’m so glad she reminded me of that. I’m definitely on an upswing right now, feeling the rewards of hard work I put in even when I really, really didn’t want to do a damn thing. And I’m fully aware that the wheel will cycle round again and the hard times will be back – but for now I’m going to soak in this feeling of happiness and well-being. It was hard-won, and I’m profoundly grateful for every moment of it.
FYI – So far in my practice I’ve found viniyoga to be the most fat-friendly, and it’s also my favorite type of yoga. Viniyoga is known for lots focus on breath, being gentle and having lots of modifications for poses for those of us who are not gumby. Viniyoga classes feel the most healing to me, and though it is a gentle yoga I always manage to get some really amazing stretching done as well. The thing I like about it the most though is that the focus is more on the process and feeling balance in your body and getting the most out of the movement – rather than just trying to force the poses.
My insurance company needs “Prior Authorization” to fill my Wellbutriin prescription. Is this a new medication, you ask? Why, no, it isn’t. I’ve been taking it for well over a year. And the same insurance company has been paying for it, but every so often they suddenly decide that this prior authorization is required, and the pharmacy will not release my drugs until the paperwork hoops have been sucessfully jumped.
What’s a girl to do? I’ve been out of Wellbutrin for about a week now. And it’s strange, but I actually feel ok. Better than usual, I think. I’ve been a bit anxious - but that could be situational, and it’s not like WellB has ever calmed my anxiety. I had more energy today than I’ve had in a while, and I got a shitload of cleaning done. Yes, I definitely feel strange. They predict another 3 days before they can straighten things out with my insurance. If I’m still feeling this well, maybe I’ll take a little antidepressant vacation.
I just feel more clear-headed than I have in a while. I’d been attributing my fuzzy headedness to the Suboxone, but maybe I was blaming the wrong thing. Who can tell, what with the combo of stuff I’m on.
In other news, I should be studying for a Logic test. Truth tables, I hate you. I’m thinking I’ll turn in early tonight, get up super early tomorrow and go to school to study. That’s worked out for me the last two tests (on which I totally Kicked Ass, A’s on both woot!). Well, there’s nothing like a test to study for to motivate me to fold the laundry anyway.
J’s mom took me to get a pedicure on Sat. I was semi-resistant to going. It’s hard for me to enjoy the frivolity when I’m so broke and I’m thinking the whole time of 100 other things that I could have used that money for. But she wanted to spend time with me, and I felt like it would be ungracious to deny her that. It was nice after all, definitely relaxing. And my feet look Amazing. I got some very vampy Black Cherry polish on my toes, definitely sexaii! Now, if I could just get the rest of me looking as lovely as my feet, I’d be “ready for Spring” or whatever the ridiculous ladies fashion mags are always trying to tell us we need to be.
This is always a strange time of year. It’s just starting to get warm in Seattle, and everyone wants to show some skin. Unfortunately, we all look like we’ve been hiding in the basement for the past six months. Mmmmm…attack of the mole people! May/June is always the time when I debate shaving my legs. I haven’t shaved them in years – and when I do it’s usually because I’m going to Florida and I just don’t want to deal with the comments from my family. They’re so funny – they actually act like I just “forgot” to shave or maybe “forgot” to pack my razor and will oh-so-helpfully point out that the guest bathroom is stocked with disposable bics.
I stopped shaving like 7 years ago, and I still go through this. Just goes to show you how deep that programming goes. At least my daughter gets to see my hairy legs and pits and just thinks it’s normal. She thinks it’s strange that her grandma shaves, and she can’t wait to have underarm hair. I think most of the adult women she knows are hairy (I love you seattle!) so she sees that as normal. And she totally thinks high-heels are dumb. But yeah, I still have work to do to unprogram the circut in my brain that associates pre-pubescent hairlessness with sexyness (which is way fucked up, in my humble opinion).
I just got a whole mess of books that I’m super excited about. One is about the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary called The Meaning of Everything, another is a book of essays by Paul Theroux: Fresh Air Fiend. Then there’s a book about the first computer, a biography of Tesla and a couple of novels. Yay, books! What are y’all reading?
Yesterday A&J and I went to this place called the Scratch Patch with the kids. It’s a little store where the whole floor is covered with semi-precious polished gemstones. The stones are about 3 inches thick on the floor, and there’s a little path of stepping-stones through them, as well as a couple of bird baths (the kind up on pedistals) that are full of the gemstones too. We got there, and the owner gave us these cute, velvet, lotus-shaped pillow-basket things. Then you sit down in the sea of stones and pick through to find the ones you want. At the end you can buy different size bags to fill and take home. It was just lovely to run my hands through all those beautiful stones, and everyone helped me find garnets to give to my mom. The kids had a good time and of course I got to shoot the shit with A&J. Very cool experience, I’d love to go back.
As always, when the warm weather comes back I start to perceive time as speeding up. All of the things that I put off during the winter months, when I was too depressed to deal, start bubbling up to consciousness and I can easily get overwhelmed with projects that I want to do: Garden! Yard Sale! Clean Closets! Organize House! Socialize! Camping! Picnics! Shopping! Yes, there’s definitely something bi-polarish about living in the Pacific NW. I did make a list today of things that I need to get done though. Now I just have to stick with it.
I guess this is enough of a long and rambly post for now. My head is pretty scattered, as I’m sure you can see. Hopefully I’ll settle down in time to get to be tonight so I can do ok on my test tomorrow. Now I have to go work on some of the 60 loads of laundry downstairs, because Yes, little C has fracking Headlice again. AAAAAHHHHHHHH!
There is really, truly, no rest for the wicked.
I’m writing this post due to my hopefully not-misguided belief that pushing through the way I feel right now to produce something will somehow benefit me.
How can it be that my hands literally hurt from the effort of typing? Yes, you heard that right, typing. Seriously, tears are welling in my eyes right now as I think of how completely, pitifully, un-fucking-fair it is. I mean, it’s so hard to comprehend, even after these several years of dealing with this crap – how and why it is that just days ago I was feeling fine, and now I am exhausting myself with the pain and effort of composing these whiny-ass, self-indulgent thoughts into a semi-coherent paragraph.
There is no discernable pattern to what provokes my mysterious disease. Too much exercise or not enough? Did I eat something I shouldn’t have? Is the barometric pressure dropping? Allergies? Stress? Some change in my body chemistry? Hormones? It’s infuriatingly ineffable and it’s driving me crazy.
Yesterday I fell into an empty well of exhaustion. I shut off my phone and slept and slept. If I was awake, my body was in a constant state of throbbing ache. And there’s the oppressive feeling of heaviness, and slugishness that dogs me when I try to get anything done…by which I mean the most basic of tasks, like taking a shower or cooking some mac & cheese for my kid. I think I slept most of the day yesterday, and when I was up I didn’t do much other than watch a few videos that J downloaded for me. Thank you Bravo, for the awesome distraction from my misery that is Project Runway.
Mentally, I just can’t get it together. This quarter has been an exercise in falling behind and struggling to catch up in school…only to fall behind again right after I finally get to where I should be. I missed class yesterday and today and haven’t had the energy or mental capacity to work through the chapter on my own. Now I dread having to go back to class tomorrow because I’ll be behind and won’t know what’s going on. I keep hatching these plans of waking up early and going to the library to try to get work done, but I give in to my body’s demand for more and more and more sleep.
I am super irritable. My kid needs me, she doesn’t know how to not need me, but all I really want right now is to not be needed. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to pay attention, don’t want to listen, to hear, make eye contact, care. I have to, so I try and I try to explain that I’m sick and I’m so sorry but inside I’m just crying Shut The Hell Up and then I harsh on myself for feeling that way. And really, she’s been so amazing the past few days and has barely asked for any attention (for her anway) but I just can’t help it. I’m scraped raw and I can’t shoulder any demands right now.
The thing that kills me is that I already had one imaginary disease (depression) that nobody understands and everyone has limited compassion for and most people think I should be able to “snap out of.” But fibro is even less accepted/understood/believed in than depression. Depression is practically trendy compared to fibro when you think about it. Anyway, it’s hard to shake the feeling that I should be able to prove somehow the level of pain that I’m in and it’s hard not to believe that people doubt that it really hurts as much as it does (especially considering that my doctors routinely dismiss it and tell me I’ve just got to learn to deal.)
Which is not to say that I wish I had something worse or more quantifiable. Oh no. I’m glad that what I have will merely make me suffer and not outright kill me. But some validation would be nice. It would be awesome to email my prof and say: Can’t take that test today, my brain is too foggy and it hurts to hold a pen. But, that’s not happening.
And I have to say that today I feel that I’m falling short in my ability to manage my pain. Today all I can do is remember that I felt ok a few days ago and hope that this flare will be short-lived. I can hold on and remind myself that these days were far more frequent when I was abusing painkillers, and that as much as I crave that relief right now, it’s not a viable answer for me. I don’t know what else to do, I really don’t. I want to escape from my body but I can’t, and right now I don’t have enough perspective to find any kind of lesson or silver lining in that.
I literally did nothing today. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
I feel bad. I’ve been neglecting my blog, and I haven’t been reading or commenting on anyone’s blogs lately. The good news is that it’s not because I’m depressed. I’ve just been busy.
I am struggling with balance again. This is an ongoing theme for me. I write about it. I talk about it in therapy. I practice it in yoga. I fall down a lot, metaphorically and occasionally physically.
I swing from not doing much, to doing way too much. I push myself too hard, or I take a string of good days for granted and overextend myself. I get sick and go to bed. Sometimes I get better after a day or two of rest…sometimes I don’t. I let all the balls drop, sink into a depression or have a fibro flare up. Eventually I come to and drag ass out of bed again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Logic is a fairly intense class and I’m glad it’s the only one I have this quarter. I’m working more hours than I ever have while simultaneously being in school and I’ve taken on new responsibilites at work. C is home all the time since we withdrew her from school, and I’ve been trying to go to the gym or get some exercise 5 times a week. All while managing my depression and fibromyalgia and taking care of my recovery. Whew!
I think I’m all caught up at school though. We had two tests this week and I got 25 out of 25 on one and I think I did well on today’s exam, which was a hundred-pointer. Thank you baby jesus for my innate ability to quickly grasp even relatively complex concepts. I know it’s not fair, and I see my classmates struggling even after they’ve done all the assignments…but I’ve got enough stuff gone wrong in my head that I’m pretty sure it works out in the wash.
Now I have some writing work to do, and play catch-up with the house work, keep on top of exercising. I want to be involved with ADPS and keep writing poems. I need to remember not to get swept away by the momentum of my life happening to me. I’m looking around for ways to simplify, to make sure I’m getting enough rest and some time to just be. I think I need a day planner. I have a palm pilot somewhere…where is that thing?
And life calls me now to put the child to bed. Hopefully I’ll get back to regular and more inspired posting soon. I have a growing list in my notebook of things I want to write about when I have the time and energy. Maybe someday soon that energizing effect of regular exercise that I keep reading about will finally kick in. *sigh* Till then I guess I just have to drag my tired old bones through the motions.
Thirty-five trips around the sun, completed today. That’s right, it’s my birthday, and everything feels a little off.
But I’m here, and I’m feeling relatively sane. I took the whole day off to hang out with my family. We just watched The Golden Compass and ate some delish cherry-cheesecake. Later some friends are coming by, and I rented Juno for me and J to watch.
I think I’ll have more to say later, but right now I’ve got that b’day melancholy thing, and J is helping C clean her bedroom which is giving me an anxiety attack.
Woo. Celebrate!
Catch ya later.
I have a new post up at Suboxone Blog celebrating the fact that six whole months have passed since I started Suboxone treatment.
I’m at work right now, but I will post some more words soon. In the meantime, I’d deeply appreciate your support over at Suboxone Blog.
Thanks, all!
Recent Comments