I'm still fat.

It's so funny to me that the last time I posted here it was on the same topic that brought me to write something four and a half years later. I'm still fat. I'm still in pain. But for the last two and a half years, I've also been a mother dealing with those first two. 

The past two years have been some sort of mashup between a rollercoaster and a train wreck with parenting and the pandemic. There have been many times I thought about journaling here or in a physical journal, but to be honest, I didn't really want a record of how dark a place my mind had been. It's a struggle to know what's the right thing to do in the midst of a new and ever changing pandemic and I think parenting is always a struggle. At least, I think it always would have been for me. And that's not something I really have wanted to record for posterity, though I admit it would probably help the child's future therapist out.

I started some new treatments for pain this week. After stopping all of my meds a year ago and not finding any difference in my pain levels, I was concerned what the doctor would say when I finally saw someone (after my old doctor left). This guy is way more holistic (though he was quick to recommend bariatric surgery) and recommended a ton of vitamins and as much kale and arugula as I can eat. He also said he wants me to start doing 5mins of intense cardio a day and to work myself up to 30 mins. He said he doesn't have any patients who do 30 mins of cardio a day and have intense pain. Because he is leaving in three months and I'm unlikely to see much more of him, I didn't argue that it might be that none of his patients with intense pain are able to do 30 mins of exercise everyday. Because honestly, even five minutes is torture.

Within the first minute, I can feel the muscles around my rib cage start to seize and I consider why I'm even trying to do this when I know it will just make things worse and that this doctor will be unlikely to care anyway. Then it's just pushing through until my alarm goes and trying my hardest not to cry in front of the Wee One. Yesterday I drank a margarita afterwards. Tonight I considered some of the Chinese pain oil (another suggestion) but the pain is much deeper than the surface level that hits. 

Some part of me wishes I had argued with this doctor. Asked him how much weight I would need to lose before he took me seriously. But I don't it would matter and I'll just be having this same conversation with a new doctor in a matter of months. I even said yes to the bariatric consult knowing if never go through with it because I just didn't have it in me to discuss. 

It's just so frustrating being in this body that has let me down for so long. I'm tired of being in pain. I'm tired of feeling out of control. I'm just tired.

Is this the runner's high I've heard so much about?