What a week will bring

There's so much to say. I'll start with most recent and work my way backwards, more or less. ;) I hope you can keep up.

Today we started at the gym. Well, technically I started last week, as you know, but today both me and my husband started. And I was SO EXCITED because there was a class! That I could take! And not have to do the stupid elliptical!! So I took that class. And before I took it I asked the instructor what it was- cardio sculpt. She says, "Well, it's like 15 minute segments of different things". I think, ok. I like different things. If I haven't tried it before, I'll just look dumb. Been there, done that, no biggie.
Who knew that taking a class could be so emotional. Because i couldn't do it. Not because I didn't know the steps- that was fine and honestly it was pretty basic. But I was so tired and so out of shape that I just couldn't manage it. So I had to stop. I was the fat girl in the class who couldn't even get through the class. I mean, I started again, but still. And you know, I wasn't humiliated, or embarrassed. (although I did feel the need to apologize to the instructor for sucking so bad, but i didn't. Cuz then she'd think I was even worse off than I actually AM). But I was just so damn frustrated with myself. How did I get to this point again? How have I not stopped, looked at myself, and cut the shit already???
So there was that. Overall- classwise it was fun, and I'll do it again. Emotionally draining, of course. But for me- that's just incentive:
I'll show her. I'll show them all I can get back into shape and finish this class even at the highest impact- with my "arms over my head to increase my heartrate" just like you said, dammit. Watch me.

In other, less directly related news, I went with my hubby to the doctor yesterday. The doctor for me. This is a long story I'm not going to detail right now but will when I have the energy (ha ha ha), but the bottom line is I went to an APRN who diagnosed me with all kinds of craziness. My husband suggested we cut that out and go to my regular doctor. We did. She didn't know anything about the genetic problems (again, I'll go there when I'm less emotionally and physically drained), but referred us to a genetics counselor. There's a party if I ever saw one. She's worried about my insulin levels and is sending me to an endocrinologist. She suggested that between the two they should be able to put the pieces together and figure out all of me along with some of our family history. And lastly, a nutritionist. With my high insulin and high C-CRP, insurance will pay. Yippee. But I'm glad to go cuz I would love some non-weight watchers guidelines.
Which brings me to my next point.

There's this commercial on TV. The first time I saw it I was in tears (I may have been PMS-ing, but trust me, with me, that's a moot point). There's this song, and these women. Who look just like me. And words like, "there's a woman who always thinks she's the fattest one in the room. There's a woman who avoids mirrors" and I think a few more. Then "there's a place they can go".
And all of a sudden reality sets in. Because to be honest, really truly and brutally honest, wherever it was they can go I wanted to go. I wanted to know that place. I wanted to make friends there, friends with people who can understand.

Then it hit me. I've been there. And it wasn't like that- not for me.

Yup. You guessed it. It's a commercial for Weight Watchers. And as a fat chick, I can tell you for us, it's one of the best commercials ever. It gets us *here* and draws us in. We think things like, "finally? there's a place where someone will get me? Where is that? Can I go? Will they even accept me???". And then you realized you've been t here. And it's just not entirely like the commercial says. We didn't get together for pool parties together. We didn't go to a hotel together (although I have to admit that was the one thing I did NOT get in the commercial). We didn't go to fancy parties together, all wearing white.

And I cried again. For the place that doesn't exist where real people totally understand. Because Weight Watchers worked for me once and didn't work for me the second time. And maybe if I tried again, maybe it works for me on the odd numbers. I don't know. But I'm too scared to try and find out. I have to try something different again. I can't go back to the place where people might understand.

(as a disclaimer. My husband gets me. I have a few friends who get it. But in my head- there was a whole place of people who understood.)

That was alot of Internet Talking. I'm going to go eat dinner now. :)

One last note: Happy Birthday Hannah Grace. I've been thinking about you all day. I love you and miss you.