Anna’s Adventures

The last few cycle / rpm classes, I have wanted to stop halfway through but just kept pushing. At the time, I think “oh I’m such a lightweight, I shouldn’t want to quit” but looking back, it means that I am actually making myself work (even if it only means working through tiredness).

• Can be wrong
• Can be right but doesn’t have to be
• Knows when to stop arguing and just get things done
• Knows that this point is different to each of us
• Likes a good argument and knows that it doesn’t have to be serious
• Able to have a conversation
• Clever, not doesn’t have to be formally educated (but its ok if they are)
• Thinks for themselves
• Inquisitive and curious
• Takes care of their body but enjoys their body and isn’t a member of the body police or really uptight about body image
• Sexy, very sexy, but not meaning short skirts and sleaze
• Leaves room for me
• Cares for me
• Thinks of me as I think of them
• Loves me
• Lets me be me. Loves me because I am me, not because of what I could be, or what I can do for them or because of their ideal-Anna.
• Brave
• Allows change to happen
• Can be a partner in adventure, not just a focus of my time and energy
• Doesn’t play tit for tat or exploit my weaknesses to get my attention
• Gives massages, all the time like crazy
• Likes me to be in control
• Likes to be in control
• Realises that the above 2 aren’t mutually exclusive
• Someone who cares enough to reach out to me sometimes
• Someone who is kind and not cruel

Ok, I’ve been going mental. I’ve known that I’ve been going mental. Here’s how I know:

• Some weeks ago, i stopped eating good food. I stopped cooking, and stopped having breakfast, I stopped eating lunch at work, I would come home and snack on a frozen yoplait. The big indicator is when I made myself some gluten-free pasta (a failsafe favourite) and just couldn’t eat more than a mouthful. When I did eat, the only things I could get through were ice cream and flavoured milk. I also started to totally ignore my gluten free diet.
• Drinking. Along with ignoring my GF diet, I’ve been ignoring the “no drinking” rule. Its OK when I can stop at one glass, its OK when I am not high, but when I am high, I just knock it back like water. This has only been for the last 2 weeks.
• I can also drink 4 cups of coffee and not feel its effect on me. Normally, I can feel one cup.
• Not sleeping much, but still being able to function. I’ve been staying up until 3am most nights reading, but then still getting up at 7am. The thing is though, that I don’t get up at 7 and wash or eat breakfast or get to work early. I just get up and start reading again.
• Showering less. Bleagh. I do it at the gym, though.
• I decided to get another tattoo as soon as possible. I don’t know what, I just want another tattoo. Luckily I’m not organised enough to act on this impulse.
• There’s this booy at work that I’m starting to like. There’s this friend of my boyfriend that I was flirting heavily with. There’s this friend of my that I slept with the other night. I’m compulsively having sex.
•  Buying things on impulse. For my birthday I got some money. I decided to save for 2 extra weeks and buy a new laptop (and give my old one to mum). But on my birthday weekend, I bought a new wireframe wardrobe. Now, I needed it, and its a very good one, but it was totally on impulse and against my plan for the money.

I can see myself doing all of these things, but I just can’t seem to stop myself. I’m running, running, running. My legs are shaking because I want to move, move, move. Now, I need to get back on my seroquel (the doctor said I should come off it, but now I’m thinking this is a mistake).

Things are different.

I am slower, mentally. I don’t have enough room in my head for all the things that I used to have time and space for.

I’ve been worried that I don’t have the same mental capacity as I used to. I’m certainly not encouraging myself to get creative. Though I am crocheting, which probably does count as being creative. Maybe I’m being a bit hard on myself by expecting to be purely engaged in being creative and productive.

Meanwhile, my brain is on sex overdrive. My dreams are invaded by tales of handsome young fellows, and Kalypso attends my waking thoughts. I miss him terribly in many ways.

In fact, I miss several people and I’m hardly going out any making new friends. Though I am going out to the gym, which is a brilliant way to spend time.

I did make it, with Kate, to the last ever Rocky Horror Picture Show Audience Participation night at the Greater Union. It was rad. Though, it starts at 11pm, and I didn’t get to actually sleep until about 5am - just because my sleep-wake cycle was disturbed. I meant to go out this evening with S, but fell asleep at 5pm, and woke suddenly at 10:40pm. Bleagh.

My last session with my psychologist went really well. The next one should be interesting - I feel like I’ve broken through some kind of resistance or self-knowledge barrier. More news on that soon.

I am a Gym Bunny. Its official.

Every day I need to go through the glass doors, and move it and shake it in a room filled with noise and Lycra.

I feel so much better at the end. I take my clothes off and get into the dry sauna. I sweat even more, until my skin feels pure. Then a cold shower, clothes on and a weary walk to the train.

Endorphins. Yum!

Several days without sertraline (aka Zoloft). My last one was the 26th December. At first, I didn’t notice any changes and started to think I’d be OK without it for a while longer.  The reason I am going without is that I ran out of pills and my pdoc is away right now. I don’t know HOW I ran out of pills. I have so many prescriptions for zoloft that it isn’t really funny. But I manage to loose them all. I found one at the beginning of the month, but it turned out to be the last repeat.

I have noticed a few things since being off the zoloft

• My sleeping patterns are awful. I can’t sleep at night, and I can’t get up in the morning
• I fight with everyone. Every little thing upsets me.
• The Seroquel puts me straight to sleep, and its hard to stay awake at work without drinking a litre of coffee (exacerbating the first point)
• My mind wanders a lot
• I find myself acting without any regard for known consequences of my actions and without reserve even though I recognise them
• My dreams are getting more real, and my reality is getting more dream like

I’m getting a boob job.

I have longed for a reduction for years, but have been put off by the “after” images I could find. Surgeons advertised misshapen breasts (but with an obligatory nipple lift) with massive scarring. Patients complained of post-op pain for up to 12 months.

No thanks!

But I’m recently impressed by the results of a couple of ladies my sister knows via the internet and the “before vs after” shots. I can see that they weigh less, the shoulders are straighter, bras are bought off the rack, dresses do up around the bust, back pain subsides.

I measured this morning, and I think each of my breasts weigh 1.25kg. I want my back to be relieved from its 2.5kg weight. Imagine lugging 2 bags of sugar with you constantly. And then the insult of having men talk to them, and women tell you you’re lucky!

So, hence the plan. New boobies for Anna. Relief from back pain!

Mood changes.

I’m sleeping when I should be awake, and I am awake when I should be asleep. All I want to do it watch tv and stare at the wall. I want to press my head and make the thoughts come out.

I’m going to increase my dose of zoloft. My brain needs serotonin.

I want to collapse. I have collapsed.

Come and get me.

Maybe I’m just tired. Tired from fighting. Tired of doing the right thing. Tired of caring who sees me do it, or not do it.

Yesterday, I made a deal with my sister that she would be my personal trainer, and if I got to my goal by x-mas, I’d buy her a heart rate monitor. She did explain that the mterial rewards were secondary to the chance to work with me on controlling my diet and exercise regime. But I said “that’s OK, the material bits are important too”. So the deal was struck and I am on my way to painsville.

The aggression / discomfort with RW and I seems to have dissipated. Still don’t know what it was about. C’est la vie.

Kal has gone to Japan… and has internet in his hotel room. Kyoto is only 1 hour behind Sydney. I was surprised to find him online, but there hasn’t been much chatter. This is a good sign. Imagine flying 11 hours to chat online with the person you just left. He told me he’d already bought me bancha!

I’m in the flat making bubble and squeak from the huge amount of potatoes left from our last evening meal together. It consisted of his using his day off to plan something special…artichoke dipped in butter, and baked potatoes (coz he knows I like them) and a lovely salad. Dessert was a shared pomegranate. Such a lovely meal, eaten on the tiny balcony by candle light.

Gluten Free is treating me very well. I’ve figured out the muesli mystery… most muesli types contain wheat bran sticks, which is why sometimes I get sick sometimes not from breakfast. My sister and mum are going GF too. I’m glad - I think they will like it. I’ve discovered that potato crisps contain gluten!

Kate and I had a long talk, which explored lots of the themes that had been worrying of late. Good resolutions, I believe. We talked and walked through Newtow, ending up at Tamana’s On Top - the new flashy version of Tamana’s North Indian Diner. Fucking amazing curry! Lovely food. Lovely colourful bollywood videos. Beautiful decor. Today wen went shopping, and Kate assisted me to brave the Target pants section. Thanks!

When we met, she was wearing a yellow dress, covered with a yellow floral shawl. Terribly pretty.

I  got to visit with my cat, Marley, who is being babysat by Kate’s housemate until I can take her back. Lovely Marley. She is being kept in

I have gold tide marks from this gradual tanning moisturizer cream. Damn. This stuff never works the way it should.

I am really enjoying this time alone right now. Anna-directed time is so precious and sweet. I can breathe. I have time to think. I am making plans. This time next year, things will have moved.

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