I have started this blog post three times already tonight. That’s rare for me. Usually I sit down, internal dialogue already written, and hit publish. But there is no internal anything going on right now.
I want to be funny and my usual snarky self when I talk about how I may have to come to terms with a fat ass, a not so defined waist, and a karmic serving of This is Your Life because it’s obvious my PCOS, the two bouts of hormonal hell I get to deal with each month, and the mirror aren’t going to make any of this as easy as I used to think. I want to make you laugh when I explain that even though I am eating like Kate Moss (minus the drug problem), I look more like Rosanne Barr in her skinny days, probably because I can’t afford the drug problem. And I want to make sure you understand that it’s the calendar and my ovaries’ complete refusal to abide by it and the expected 30 day cycle that has me hiding from my blog because most of what comes out right now will be tinged in a bitchiness and a hankering need for chocolate and not the writer mama ignoring her muse.
But instead I’m questioning every word I pound out on the keyboard because this just so happens to be a little more permanent than a spoken conversation. Sure, I might be arguing with my scale right now because it can’t be normal to put on that much weight just because I am retaining water. Again. But once this passes, I’ll have a week of clarity. And I won’t sound like I’m getting ready to jump face first into a bowl of chocolate-covered sin. I’ll be peppy. I’ll be motivated. And I might even run for homecoming queen.
But this week, this day, this moment? It all kind of sucks. I have a doctor who is telling my my levels are slightly off but still within accepted normal ranges which is code for her having no clue how to fix me. I have a clean eating diet that also excludes gluten-containing products so don’t tell me I’m not watching what I eat. And I have a body that likes to remind me that my head is not in charge.
Sometimes, I wonder why I don’t just throw in the towel. If I am going to be a fluffy mama, I may as well enjoy what I am eating instead of limiting everything and still getting nowhere fast, right? Cake trumps carrot sticks and pizza beats plain grilled chicken any day of the week…or at least, it used to. But then I remind myself that the number on the scale isn’t the reason I jumped back on the hamster wheel of fate. If I can’t control how I look, you better bet your ass I’m going to make sure I control how I feel. (On the 14 days of the month I am not going crazy, I mean.)
Cellulite, muffin top, and thunder thighs, be damned. I’m in charge of this ship. And that means I keep trying. Because for those of us lucky enough to have a medical reason for the size of our duffs, this might be the only way to measure success. Which means we all keep trying. Because that, we can feel good about.
I can so relate this week. I’m tired of dealing with PCOS, and having no one truly understand. I would send you encouragement, and hugs. I love your writing, keep up the fight.
hugs welcome back i hope you have a great week
Dang. Raw, inspiring, real. Love this. Why do our bodies have to be so fragile when we have warrior spirits?
Hang in there.
A lot of break out the measuring tapes in addition to the scale. Some times you can see the loss in inches when you don’t see it in pounds. Good luck.
I can’t even imagine what it is like to deal with PCOS so thank you for sharing. I am also thrilled that you are not going to use that as an excuse to be a “fluffy” mama. Best wishes Pauline. You have my support.
Your post is honest and touching, and I feel as if I’m going through this with you. Keep your chin up, you’re an inspiration…
Thank you, Valerie. I love you for your advice and am glad we connected on twitter.
I love how open and honest this post is. I’ve never had to deal with PCOS, but the way you write about it makes it very relatable. I mean, we all have our issues with wanting to dive face first into a bowl of chocolate, right? I’m sorry you are having to go through this, but I just absolutely your attitude. You can’t control everything, but control everything that you can! You CAN win this. *hugs*
Angela! Thanks for stopping by and commenting. I appreciate that and am glad you can understand what PCOS is like by reading the post. In a nutshell, it sucks. But when has a bog fat no stopped me? If I didn’t listen to my parents as a teen, I’m ignoring my body’s desire to stay fat and working on doing exactly the opposite. much love~
I’m hugging you from far away. I’m so sorry you are going through all of this because there’s no other way to say it – IT SUCKS! the part that stuck out most to me was
“I want to make you laugh when I explain that even though I am eating like Kate Moss (minus the drug problem), I look more like Rosanne Barr in her skinny days,”
To that, I shall echo Greta and say that your body may need MORE calories… I can’t speak to PCOS, but I know that when I was limiting myself to carrot sticks and grilled chicken, on a 1200 calorie diet, I GAINED weight… now I’m closer to 2000 with my exercise schedule and am losing… our bodies are funny things and I know that you are too (stubborn?) determined to give up!
Shelley, you are a rock star. Thanks for the comment and the looking out for me. I am feeling better and working to make sure I eat properly.
I love your writing!!! It’s really so wonderful to read and flowing. Sorry you’re in a bad place right now though. I hate that part. Did you happen to see Rachel L’s vlog? I think you’ll find it very very interesting. She talks about how her PCOS is not as bad as it used to be.
AND are you eating ENOUGH???? It sounds like you might not be. Hang in there, sweetie.
Hello Greta! Thank you for the compliment! Those are always good for the soul. And I’m already better. It just depends on the day and my mood when I sit down to write. I cut out grains yesterday (temporarily) and already feel much better. I will check out Rachel’s post. And yes, I am eating enough…I was using a bit of poetic license when comparing myself to Kate Moss.
You, my dear, are such an inspiration. And I know people throw that word around a lot, but I think it is truly fitting. It would be so easy to walk away from this. You, though, are staring it down. And it makes me feel like I can too.
Mrs Fat Ass: Thank you, dear heart. I appreciate the sentiment and am honored you think me an inspiration.