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  • Adam 3:11 am on October 6, 2014 Permalink
    Tags: , , drugs, , moving forward, , rock and roll,   

    Drugs, No Sex and Rock & Roll 

    Well here we are. I’ve been told we’re over and to follow my own path for now. It hurts too much to see me. Carrie needs to heal, I suppose I need to as well. I question a sane universe where 2 people who love each other deeply can’t work it out and can’t make it happen. But I did this to myself and I took my say out of the equation.

    Drugs

    I’ve avoided all drugs and I’ve quit drinking, so I have very little to fall back on. I used to smoke and when things got crazy recently I ended up smoking for a few days. When my anxiety turned into panic attacks I called my therapist. She got me an appointment with a psychiatrist and a reference for my doctor to get some temporary meds. I’m taking anti-depressants for the first time in my entire life. They’re supposed to keep me in the ‘middle of the road’ not too anxious not too depressed, kind of middle ground.

    Also to avoid smoking I picked up an e-cig (yes VAPING) but I got the fluid with absolutely no nicotine. It’s actually a nice relaxing tool and has no addictive chemicals, so I feel okay with it. It’s sort of my fake ‘bad’ habit that I can do to chill out.

    No Sex

    Of course the anti-depressants have killed my libido, it’s actually made it really difficult to even get excited. For now I’m okay with that. I don’t think I could deal with a sexual encounter, nor do I think it’s a good idea.

    Some people have already mentioned dating, and I’m just so far away from that. All I can think of is where I’m going to live, how I’m going to survive and how to keep working out every day. I’m losing weight (update: 350 pounds, down from 367 – in 3 weeks) any other time this kind of weight loss would be astounding, right now my diet is miniscule at best and I’m only concerned with keeping up a steady pace of weight loss & exercise.

    Looking forward to that, loose skin from weight loss, keeping my habits correct and forward leading. I’m not thinking about women. I do still think about Carrie and now that we’ve formally separated, I can’t help but hope and wonder. She’s being a little self-destructive with alcohol and running away from problems instead of facing them. But she’s so hurt and she’s not the one with the problem so I suppose she’s entitled to cope any way she wants. I also don’t have a say anymore but I worry about her and how she’s doing constantly.

    Rock & Roll

    Well when I wrote this clever title, I just meant that I’ve been listening to music again. For some reason all music ceased to exist for a few weeks. The radio became silent or a background drone. Every time I walked or hiked I either had deep thoughts, worry or tried to guess what Carrie was thinking.

    Now that I know what she’s thinking (nothing good about me) I started putting on headphones and jamming some tunes. For some reason Glitch Mob is great for walking pace-wise, so I’ve been enjoying a little music again. I also walked today AND went to the driving range with Cliff. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to 2 chunks of exercise in a single day. I look forward to being strong enough to *gasp* do 2 physical things in a day.

    I see the progress, I feel my body improving, and I’m digging my music. It’s all I have right now, but it will have to do.

     
  • Adam 8:14 pm on September 26, 2014 Permalink
    Tags: career, disneyland, drugs, ecstasy, , , finances, job, , money, pain, , shame, vacation, walking, wheelchair   

    Phase 8: Ask and Ye Shall Receive 

    Quickly enough, I found a job, not just a job… A great job. For an educational company, making really good money. Suddenly, everything seemed possible.

    I had money coming in, I could pay my bills, I could pay her bills. I could afford groceries and I could treat her kindly for a change. I was so glad that my life had turned around so quickly that I just wanted to make everything about Carrie for a bit.

    I took her to Disneyland for vacation. We ended up walking around so much that first day that I was in agony. I was still 350 pounds, and after 12 solid hours of walking the dream vacation turned into a nightmare. My ankles, my knees, my hips, were on fire. I felt like I was walking on knives.

    Carrie was so excited about Disneyland that she didn’t want to abandon her hopes and dreams because I was “sore” she tried to talk me into getting up at 6am and going back to the park the very next day and doing it all over again. I got mad, we yelled, we fought. I told her “I can’t do this”. Eventually she relented and let me sleep in a bit and to take it slow the next day. The next day stretched into 9-10 hours of walking and I was almost worse off than before. I was dying on my feet and I was so scared of another day of this that I was ready to fake a heart attack to get out of it. We fought again.

    That next day I tried to go out again and perform this miracle a third time. Carrie was trying so hard to make this happen. She offered to get me a wheelchair. So that I wouldn’t have to walk. I felt embarrassed but I figured if it’s the only way for her to be happy that I’d give it a try. We awkwardly went up to the counter at Disneyland and asked about renting a wheelchair. They didn’t ask any questions they just rented us a chair and they wheeled one out. Of course, it was too small.

    They went back and brought out an XL chair, for people like me. You know, people that don’t even fit in normal wheelchairs. I sat down and awkwardly placed my feet in the stirrups. Then of course the reality set in. How do we move this damn thing? It’s a giant chair with 350 pounds in it. I tried spinning the wheels myself but I could make about 1 mile an hour at best. Carrie as a trooper just started pushing me. This next 5-10 minutes was some of the most shaming and awful of my entire life.

    My wife huffing and puffing, straining and grunting to maneuver me through a theme park. As I sat with my feet up and tried to look sheepish. Wondering if everyone saw this and thought I was injured, lazy, or retarded. We barely had made it inside the park when I just called a stop. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t spend the next 10 hours listening to my lovely wife shove me around a park while sounding like she’s pushing a boulder uphill. I would rather hurt.

    I silently popped about 5 ibuprofen and we returned the chair. Knowing what the alternative was now, I had decided to suffer through. I was careful not to wince or complain or to even show how much it hurt. I stumbled around we saw some more of the park. Mostly I tried to do what she wanted but I was in almost constant agony. Eventually we took some Ecstasy we had smuggled into the park toward the end of the night, and in a haze of artificial happiness and a complete lack of pain, we rounded out the night and ended on a good note. The next day we flew home in a fog and started living life again. I didn’t even really think about it for a few days.

    Then I would think about that wheelchair and how hard it was for Carrie to move me and the feelings I felt floating along and feeling miserable while she carried me.

    I guess it felt like a little too perfect of a metaphor.

     
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