As you may have heard me say before, I'm not that self-recriminating about my weight. I've been annoyed and inconvenienced, but I rarely got tearful or wanted to throw darts at my own picture.
But I am not a stranger to self-hatred, alas.
I am what I'd guess you'd consider sort of mildly and functionally ADD. I got decent grades in school, made it through a competitive college, got through nursing school and more or less survived on the telemetry floor (which is a terrifying place for a first-year grad, especially one who's agreed to be oriented "flexibly" and part-time.) So I'm not totally incapable, right? But there are days I just want to screw off my head and ask for another one.
I've been particularly plagued lately-- that Cobra bill is weighing on my mind. I could go back to my old job on the old terms-- I think-- but I want to move forward. I need to find a new job, preferably forward my career. I don't have to make boatloads of money but I do need to work part-time because of my family responsibilities, and I really need health insurance. (In Canada this would be a non-problem, but I am trying hard not to make my blog political. Health is bipartisan!)
I cannot remember a DAMN THING these days. I can't make iced tea without screwing it up, because I'm trotting upstairs for this email or that packet and oh God did I call my mother in law back? And what am I going to say to Judy when I really don't work to for her next week... I never wrote back to Brenda... Thanks for calling, I'll drop off that time-sheet, but I can't see patients today because my husband's assistant is off this week and he needs me to fill in... Geez, Dad's back still hurts, is he okay? Does he need me to go to Urgicare with him? I have to pick up the little one from school and I haven't said hi to my older daughter yet, I don't want her to feel neglected. I can't believe I still haven't sent for that transcript, I can't apply for the job I want till I get it. That SAT packet's not in, I still haven't submitted my son's senior picture. Can I make the 5:30 yogo? What about dinner?
Like that. My head is a like a hive of bees with organizational problems. I tried to get to yoga today and while I remember to bring six of the seven things I needed to have with me, I forgot the eighth (the yoga bag which I had carefully packed.) My load is not any heavier or more complicated than most, a lot lighter than some. But the extra stress of job hunting (and any mother of children knows the daunting childcare tangles which come with a new job) seems to have put me on the fritz.
My little one is like me in more than looks. Two sweaters have been left at school so far and we're only a week in. I was actually tearful today because I don't want her to grow up like this. There are strategies to deal with it, just like there are strategies for weight loss. I know the naturally methodical will be out there wondering, "But why doesn't she just--?" Believe me, I'M TRYING, just like the eating disordered person is trying to stop when they are full. When things get extra-stressful, we become more like ourselves, and my hidden disability is not so hidden.
Wish me luck, guys.