I’d like to send sloppy, wet-nosed thanks to you readers who’ve sent words of love, encouragement and concern the past few months. Your thoughts and well-wishes remind me just how big-hearted this Blogosphere can be. Truly.
Some of you have asked me how I’m doing on “the feelings front” and how 30 Days of Torture Le Regime worked out and if I was able to enjoy our long weekend in Florida. These questions aren’t the easiest to answer. Answers require honesty and a showing of the vulnerable underbelly, which is hard. Answers also require an admission on my part that I’m still flailing around and that on many levels, I don’t know jack. Admissions like that suck. I’m an enthusiastic member of the Got-It-Covered, Thanks! club.
But I put it out there, didn’t I? I’m the over-inflated windbag who aired her dirty laundry in this space, right?
And I know, deep down, that I don’t gotta tell you nothin’. But given your generosity and extended hands, I feel like you deserve a little better.
Maybe some second-tier souvenirs instead of the 99-cent suckers in the bucket next to the cash register. But only second-tier, because even though you deserve the t-shirt, I’ve only got enough in my wallet for the keychain. Somehow, I know you’ll understand.
I’ll start with a bang. A bang so big that you’re going to shake your head and say, “Kitch gave up liquor for a month but she’s swapped it out for LSD, because this shiz ain’t real.” Drumroll please… The T Family did not have the usual (and now simply expected) Vacation in a Petri Dish. We spent an entire four days, in a foreign place, in rollicking good health. I know.
I’ll admit that I stacked the deck a bit by keeping Miss M. home from school several days before we left. Criticize all you want, sticklers for education! I am unashamed. The child is in pre-kindergarten (the official Homeland of Germs) and is adamantly unconvinced of the benefits of hand-washing. She is also now the proud owner of the world’s most contaminated Pillow Pet.
M. dragged that sucker across the floor of every parking lot and terminal escalator she could find; no matter how viciously I snapped at her, she was undeterred. The second we got home, PillowBunnyLovey had a hot date with a vat of OxyClean and Clorox. In other news, the day we got home, HackBoogeyman arrived for another an extended stay.
Despite the reappearance of HB in our house, my verdict for the Florida mini-vacation: Success.
Okay, now that I’ve gotten the easy part of the equation out of the way, I’ll move on to murkier waters.
A few reflections on 30 Days of Le Regime:
~The first week was rotten. The vigorous (!) exercise got on my nerves almost immediately. On Day 4, I said to my husband en-route to the gym, “F^#k clean living. Clean living sucks. Who cares what my mood needs? My ass needs a day on the couch with The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and some Chardonnay.” Day 4 was kind of a bitter day. It was one of plenty.
~exercise, even vigorous (!) exercise, does not show benefit in the Backside Department for a while. In the age of immediate gratification, this blows.
~on Le Regime, something as innocent as a lunch with your husband can turn into strange territory. Especially holiday lunch at a favorite Italian bistro–the one with the a-ma-zing wine list. You know that scene in Finding Nemo when Bruce, the fish-craving shark, gets his first whiff of Dory’s blood? Just gotta say: Yo, Bruce. I feel you, man.
~Veggies get old, but not as old as fruit. Winter fruit bites. In an act of severe winter fruit burnout, I actually tried apricots again. I also made up with oatmeal, who I broke up with over a year ago. Verdict: apricots still give me heebie jeebies–it’s a texture issue. As for oatmeal, I still say: it’s glorified gruel.
~Gobs of healthy vegetables, fruits and grains give you gobs of…noisy air. Which is why, if you embark on Le Regime, I suggest a pre-emptive strike: clear your social calendar for 30 days. You will be grateful.
~You will not die. Sometimes you will be happy about this. Other times, not so much.
~You will not, as hoped, look immediately and decidedly better in the morning (the 90-year old hooker still lives, breathes, and stares back at me in the mirror).
~Nor will you jump out of bed, perky as Kelly Ripa, ready to start the first day of the rest of your life. *Cue the Cymbalta commercial that I loathe*–Depression hurts. Well, it does. You feel like you’re on the losing end of a fistfight. Or maybe that’s the exercise talking. I dunno. I tried massage, I tried hot soaks in bubbles, I tried Ibuprofen, I tried stretching–zip. I’m just marrow-deep sore right now, period. I guess I’m moving on to the acceptance stage.
~Something I cannot accept? Sober hanky-panky. Am I some kind of freak? Am I the only girl who can’t shake her moneymaker without some shaking of a cocktail first? Full Disclosure: this has everything to do with me, not the hunky man on the other side of the bed. He’s just fine–even finer, if possible, after 30 days of all that exercise.
…because look at him, right? I am a lucky, lucky duck, am I not? AND he took my grumpy butt to Florida.
Thus…it’s me. All me. And I hate it that it’s me. I almost can’t even type this, I’m so embarrassed. I can’t relax, I can’t get out of my head, I can’t quit thinking, “Something. is. wrong. with. me.” I’m as cuddly right now as a pit viper.
Something needs to bring the frisky back to this girl, because I feel out-of-whack and clumsy. If anyone touches me, I nearly jump out of my skin–I’m like one of those neurotic, twitchy small dogs. It sucks.
Verdict: Unsure.
After 30+ days, I think I’m doing better. I can drive past a cliff now without immediately wanting to pull a lemming. This is an improvement.
I’m going to keep plugging and, for the most part, keep Le Regime going. Hopefully, the discipline will carry me through the gray days of February. I’m going to give it a shot. Except when those sheets need burning up. Then I’ll indulge in a different kind of shot. Hey, in those cases, it’s medicinal, right? A little Boudoir First Aid? We Nervous Nellies aren’t above a little outside help.
Nervous Nellie Cocktail
serves one fidgety trainwreck
1 1/2 ounces mandarin vodka, such as Stoli or Absolut
3 ounces cranberry or Pom/cherry juice
1-2 tablespoons agave nectar
2 slices fresh orange
splash of soda water
lime wedge, for garnish
In the bottom of a cocktail shaker, mash orange slices with agave nectar until muddled. Add vodka and cranberry juice. Fill shaker with ice and shake vigorously until very cold. Pour over ice in a glass and top with a splash of soda.
{ 57 comments… read them below or add one }
It’s nice to hear from you. I feel a little disconnected because you can’t comment on my blog(of course I understand and am so glad thet you explained). I still love visiting and catching up with you and your lovely family. What a wonderful husband you have. Hang in there and do what’s best for you and your family.
Thanks for the pre-___ cocktail! It’s so pretty!
Kitch, I understand. It’s hard to be within your own skin, it’s hard to push yourself to like yourself within that skin. I AM PROUD OF YOU for hanging in there. Sometimes it’s all that we can do, in the hopes that the good part is just around the corner…
As for the Pillow Pet, you are a much braver soul than me. I hollered for the two nights we were downtown for the race last weekend. Like moths to a flame, my children to the FILTHY (even if it was innocent looking) hotel room floor. YUCK!
Glad you have broken the vacation curse, sorry HackBoogey Man is back… Spring (and the good, I PROMISE) are just around the corner!
((YOU))
I feel for ya. Hang in there, it’ll be worth it. Mentally AND physically.
I went on the Quick Weight Loss diet the second week in Jan. I’ll be on it 3-4 months. (I’m old and my metabolism sucks) I’ve always worked out 5 days a week…like forever…so at least I didn’t have to start a program like that. Although these people claim you don’t need to exercise. BS, frankly.
Anyway, it’s the no booze that’s killing me. And I don’t drink all that much to begin with.What can I say? When I go out, I’d like to join everyone in a drink. :(
The blog, which I thought would be a problem, isn’t. I did lots ahead of time and I now take a bite, make half recipes and then give it away.
If an old bag like me can get through this, so can you!
Our herky team is shit out of herkies lately. We are a sad tired out to lunch bunch this year. Our asses be dragging.
I’m proud of you too Witchy. I know you’re a pit viper, but I’m not afraid to hug you. You come with your own anti-venom recipes, and I fart skittles. S’all good.
You FART skittles? : ) Woman, I’d like to get to know YOU better!
yeah, but I wouldn’t eat them. you know where they came from. you won’t be tasting a rainbow.
jc–you always deliver!
Thank you for the honesty, Kitch. In the world of healing and truly caring for ourselves, there is no immediate gratification.
And thank you, too, for this line that made me literally laugh out loud: “the 90-year old hooker still lives, breathes, and stares back at me in the mirror.” I thought I was the only one who sees her every morning!
First of all…yay to a healthy vacation for all! Second, hang in there, it’s all worth it. I know all too well the anxiety ridden hard to be in your own skin feeling, but you can and will make it through stronger and better. Sometimes, we just need to take time to take care of ourselves first.
It may be “you,” but you are not alone. Something happened to me last spring and despite many changes, I’m still struggling. Yet, I have it on good authority it can pass–or at any rate, vastly improve. Patience, please? (Admonishment included for me.) You may already be aware but there is another blogger-of-superlative-writing-fame (Luisa) who has also publicly chronicled her submergence into the murky depths of anxiety and sadness. You are not alone. So if it’s *you,* know also you are in very good company and should try and forgive yourself. Because when you use descriptions like “viper,” however colorful and humor-filled, I worry shame may be malingering in the shadows. It isn’t shameful to be human, honey. You’re going to get through this.
I am sending positive thoughts your way. You are an amazing person. The crawl from hell sometimes is long one and you are on the way up. Keep plugging along girlfriend, it’s all worth it.
Cheers to you!
Velva
Ok… If you start going all Kelly Ripa on me I’m done with you, got it?!?! I don’t do perky in the morning on ANYONE!
I’ve been thinking about you lots and hoping things were a little better for you. Hopefully as spring approaches (and it will cuz’ the damn groundhog said so – just sayin’) your spirits will lighten. (((you)))
A little pre-bedroom cocktail can’t hurt – you’re going to work it off, right?!?!
Oh Kitch, I’m right there with you. I can feel everything you say. My eyes are all watery at the moment because I can relate. I wish we lived in the same neighborhood so we could prop each other up.
I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately because I’ve finally decided that I need to do my own Regime. Now I just need to get up the gumption (and off the couch) to do it.
Hang in there!
Le Regime sounds hard! But I’m glad you had the chance to get away. February just began and I’m already counting down the days. It has to be the most dreary month….
Hugs to you, KW. And for what it’s worth, I’m right there with you on the apricots…their texture is so ick.
I’m thinking about you.
Oh TKW my good friend, I am so proud of you for keeping it real here. There are a whole mess of people here for you. I am sending you some white light…
However if you get too “Kelly Rippa” on us I am showing up at your door with Rachel Ray and a box of oatmeal ;~)
Oh, hang in there, Witchy. There are too many reasons to sit on the couch with wine. You’ll never get up.
If it helps, I’m off the booze, too; and wheat, dairy, soy, corn, nuts, and eggs. I’m a first-class bitch and can’t shake the woe-is-me s. Couldn’t. Until the weekend. Sunshine, baby, is the only cure. And you don’t get that for a few months. I hope you do, though, because exercise and veggies and clean living does not make me feel better, either. Blerg.
Sober sex? Nope. Raised Catholic, taught body image by American pop culture, and kept awake at nights by a small child. I got nuthin’ without a cocktail.
And I’m off the cocktails. Maybe that’s why I’m a bitch.
When is 2012?
TKW,
My skin has freckles. I’ve hated it all my life. Teased in elementary school I had trouble looking in the mirror. One day I was riding the ski lift with my husband and he was looking at me. Really looking. In the cold my freckles really pop out. I got so ashamed. “Please look away.” I said. It was so painful. I really, truly wanted him to look away. Then he said one of the most liberating things I’ve ever heard. “You had freckles when I asked you to marry me.”
Rebecca, this made me so sad, and yet hopeful at the same time.
So much I’d like to say…all of it feels not right this way. So I’m high-fiving you in depression solidarity, and saying simply: I know.
But also, you know where I am if you need to vent. Keep on keeping on girl, you’ll get there I’m sure of it.
Can I just thank you for putting it out there like that?
I’m stuck in my own “fixing my damn self” drama. Our counselor suggested I read “Adult Children of an Alcoholic” and suggested my husband read it too. It kinda sucks knowing that a lot of our problems stem from me and my past. That is one hard pill to swallow.
I’m thinking about you! :)
You rock, Kitch. You really do, whether you know it or not. I know you are going to be OK, because you are strong and you have such a fabulous support system. Your honesty is going to be your saving grace. (And, I’m thinking the power of your snarky sense of humor will help out, too!) Good news…spring is just around the corner, right? RIGHT???
It’s a long road and because we know that, it makes it all the harder. Hang in there; you’re doing this thing. :)
Kudos for keeping to your regime. I know I dont have the willpower right now.
Btw, is your hunky hubby from India too? :D
Nothing about what you’re doing is easy. Looking at our problems and trying to address them is hard. So hard, in fact, that most people just cruise on oblivious autopilot and don’t bother. So don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re on the right track, even if the train is moving slowly. Hugs to you.
So I exercised for 2 months 3 times a week (30 min. on the elliptical followed by weights) in order to decrease the size of my derriere. I had high hopes, but like you say, vigorous exercise doesn’t necessarily make it smaller. WHY IS THAT?? It was very disappointed. So I gave up on the elliptical and have returned to my comfort zone of yoga and Pilates and a larger bottom.
Thanks for sharing with us–your honesty is refreshing, your humor is still alive and kicking no matter how you feel, and YOU WILL GET THROUGH THIS!!
Sometimes life is just so hard. Or maybe it isn’t life, but the actual living of it. Before I got into blogging I thought I was the only woman that ever felt this way, but now I realize that I’m not alone. And you aren’t either. Big hugs and lots of love are being sent your way.
I’m afraid that TKW will probably kill me the next time we see each other, but this blog reminds me of Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady who uttered the famous words: “Why can’t a woman, be more like a man?” I won’t go on to quote the rest:-).
Hang in there, Daughter. Your Dad dearly loves you! Happy Valentine’s Day!
I was just thinking of how to comment and I saw your dad’s comment….and well I just thought his words should be the last one’s. . .Sorry about Green Bay Mr. TKW. We tried we really did…but you know there is always next year!
Daddy-o, you are naughty! But I love you, kid.
I’m heartened by the comments here and how sweet to see your Dad leave one, too. No doubt there’s no shortage of empathetic folks who understand what you’re going through. So much about being alive in these modern days is a painful endurance test (and seemingly impossible to pass) and I can’t help but think that if we never go through periods like these, we’re simply not engaged or are in denial. Personally, I’d rather keep the ocassional dark periods and feel the lows with the highs than to go about my days numb and delusional. Big hug, TKW!
Hang in there. I wish I could have some words of wisdom for you, but I don’t. Just sending you big hugs your way! :D
if it makes you feel any better, I am ditching my wine this week – I’ll see if the scale will go down for me this week without it. but jesus I loves the wine! :D
I don’t even eat fruit (texture/taste) or veggies (texture/taste). Okay, I eat some.
Also, goldfish crackers ARE really fish, right? And therefore can be eaten thrice daily. By the heaping handful.
I’m not sure why I’m talking about this. Other than I feel you. Eating right and exercising is tough, even without The Depression. Hang in there..
My heart is aching for your pain. I understand. Very much so. I am dearly grateful that you are here, writing, even if you want to hide under a pillow. The only winter fruit I can eat are oranges–the easy peel kind.
Hugs and Love to you KW. I want to say more, but after reading the comment that your Dad left, I am in a puddle of tears. Your Dad leaving his comment made me think of my own Dad and how he never had a chance to read my blog. It’s moments like these that I miss him something fierce.
And feel better friend. Feel better. I am rooting for ya. xoxo
Oh Rudri, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine how much you must miss him. ((you))
Hang in there. You are one lucky duck, and at the end of this you’ll have a proud accomplishment.
The Nervous Nellie looks like a tasty cocktail. And yes, you are a lucky duck, your mister is quite handsome! :)
Agreed on the apricots, oatmeal and winter fruit.
I’m impressed with your ability to find so much positive with your husband and family when you feel so bad. Hugs!
What is it about alcohol in, um, that department? Maybe I’ll swap my usual shy-girl-at-a-frat-party rum and Coke for this refreshing lovely. And as for Le Regime, wow! Sounds like you’re doing what you have to do, and doing it while kicking and screaming some days seems only natural (not to mention amazingly strong). I hope the marrow-deep soreness eases up soon, friend.
Agree with you on the oatmeal and the murky chances of hanky panky sans alcohol…but I love me some apricot, can we still be friends?
Also on the depression front, I understand.
Glad to hear that Miami is a success and that you did not end up showing up in a Girls Gone Wild vid ’cause that’s totally something we should worry that you might just do…
Hang in there. We are rooting for you!
Hey KW, Here’s to hoping that honesty and moxie, such as yours, might help us all be more connected in some authentic way that contains the painful and the insecure right alongside the exuberant and the much-appreciated. All Good Wishes for every mood in every season.
Kitch, the ability to feel down and make others laugh (that would be me several times while reading this post) is such a gift. You are such a clever and awesome lady. Hopefully, you will feel better soon. But you are not alone. Hugs.
Wow – hangin’ in there on the “Le Regime”. TKW! I am impressed. I am glad you are feeling cheerier these days. Love the Florida snaps….. Bee-you-tee-ful family :-).
Just take it little by little–I know I have to right now because commuting is a bleak affair (old trains+nonstop snow=shorter trains yet longer rides with many cranky people) but for me it’s retreating into areas that can help me cope, like music (noise-canceling headphones are essential).
As annoying as exercise is to do (especially at 8:30 in the evening), it has been one of my sanity preservers.
Hugs to you!
{{{{{{YOU}}}}}
Well, better or not..you have kept your kick ass humor. You just crack me up..and I so relate to everything you say. EVERYTHING!
Since you’ve commented on the hotness of my hubbers, I have no problem admitting that yours does indeed look good. And I am so glad to see that your witty writing skills have not been lost in the frustrations of it all. You’re still the best.
glad to see that despite your struggles you still write so well; I see life as an upward challenge, no matter what it is one is tackling, It is never easy, never. I see us as having it easier than a lot of people i can think about elsewhere.
what a coincidence–‘fidgety trainwreck’ describes me perfectly! nice recap of your experience (and thanks for sharing your pics!).
A successful holiday is awesome and well deserved.
I hear you with everything else. If I was as brave I’d air my laundry but I’m still skimming the surface……..your fabulous lady xx
Hang in there, baby.
No one has to LOVE fruits and vegetables.
No one.
If they tell you different, you just send them my way.
And I’ll straighten em out for you.
You’re doing brilliantly well.
xoxo
Uh, is there a hidden post between the crabcakes and the Miami Vices? Did I miss something? Should I be glad that I missed it? Do I wish you had? Yes! Hope that itchy, jumping out of your skin (heaven forbid off a cliff–hmmm, you don’t live on the Pacific Coast Highway do you?) feeling goes away very soon. If not, I’ll just leave my shoulder out there in case you need it.
Best,
Bonnie
I am so glad I actually saved the time to really read this entire post, instead of a quick skim. I vowed never to do that – and I rarely do… but am SO glad. This was HILARIOUS! The Nervous Nellie drink at the end had me out loud laughing and my husband asking what it was all about. Now, he has read your post, too – with a very similar reaction. SO FUNNY. We both agree, you need to learn to have a roll in the hay without a drink. That should have stopped before the kids. I mean, sometimes the roll in the hay with a drink is really really fun… but, it should not be a requirement.
You work on that now!
:)
Valerie
Girl, the drink is TOTALLY medicinal.
You know I know blues. I’m sorry they’re hanging out at your place and I’m hoping the universe runs some good and proper interference on your behalf. Hopefully sticking with Le Regime will help you take the less tangible stuff off your proverbial plate. There is some truth to the whole “taking care of the body to take care of the mind” idea, though I’ll be the first to say it blows goats. I worry about you, Kitch, and I love you.
P.S.: If you do ever turn into Kelly Ripa’s perky doppelganger, I will be equally concerned.
Kitch, I can’t tell you how much I admire your honesty. Lately, I’ve been more hesitant to be totally honest b/c I find that sometimes, in the world of blogging, people see one post, and assume that’s YOU all the time. Reading your post reminded me that this is what it’s all about (at least for some of us): putting it all out there, exorcising your demons, letting others know they are not alone. I so often see other people, and assume I’m the only one who’s f*cked up…but really, I think we all are, in one way or another. I think the main difference is that there are those of us who are working on it, trying to improve ourselves, trying to do something about it.
Glad your trip went well…so sucky that I couldn’t meet up with you as planned. NEXT TIME.
Never thought of pulling my kids from school before a trip…don’t tell my other teacher friends or the parents of my students…but: WHAT A GREAT IDEA!
And lastly…and maybe most importantly: OH! I’m not the ONLY ONE who has trouble with sober hanky panky??????????????????????? THANK GOD!