"Turn up the radio...switch on the electric light" - Van The Man Morrison
Updates updates, let's see. Aside from my tiny little pony getting longer by the day (yay!) I've decided something big: I'm tapering off my anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication. I take a super small dose, but I've realized I may not need it at all (not like I did a year ago and man, did I, as much as I hated to admit at the time). More on that in a minute....
But first, for anyone interested, aside from hormonal therapy (Tamoxifen and Lupron), I take some specific vitamins in my maybe inconsequential, but hopefully not, attempt at staving off that big C:
And of course I exercise my bum off at Orangetheory and will run Falmouth again with some other road races in between. The exercise is more for my head. I wish it would keep the fat from collecting around my middle and the back of my legs but no matter how many all-outs on that damn treadmill I do, that chunk just keeps on clingin' to this bod of mine.
Since finishing treatment, keeping weight off has been a killer. There's about a 10-15 pound albatross that will not go away, and I am hoping dropping the Lexapro will help with this. Sounds weird but being so even-keeled with that "edge off "- meaning almost zero anxiety - I believe, in my crazy head, makes me eat more. And thereby Calm, Hungry Nicole is fatter. Again this is a totally unfounded theory, but I believe that sometimes, when it comes to weight, nerves do you some good. Think of all the skinny people you know. What do they have in common? They're always buzzing around all nerved up and anxious and super high strung. Totally anecdotal, I know. But think about it!
In the end, other than the pounds, I deduced that the main reason I want to taper off the Lexapro? I miss crying. I miss those deep, heaving sobs from time to time. I don't miss crying at the drop of a hat, which I've always been prone to, like when someone would speak to me sternly, e.g. a cop pulling me over, or the guy across from my mom's house who yelled at me for a solid five minutes for walking the dog around his cranberry bog and "trespassing" and "what are you thinking!?" (This was a couple years ago and this then-30-year old woman-baby bawled right in the man's mean fucking face.) Aside from those instances, there have been times lately where I know deep down, there's a well of sadness that needs to erupt. It just does. It's in there, I know, logically, I should be experiencing the pain, but I just can't. And I don't like that.
So, uh, sometimes the cryfests and internal-angst-parties won't be fun but maybe this cancer thing toughened me up a little. Maybe I don't need that tiny little 5mg pill. The occasional nerves, the occasional tears, I'm hoping, will be just that. Occasional.
Alright- whoa. Surprise surprise this post serves as me getting my jumbled thoughts out in one fell swoop so, until next time. XOXO - Mustard.