climbing. falling

The shift continued today. It is like watching grains of sand falling away between your toes while climbing a sand dune. All you want is to gain some purchase. To find a little firmer footing so you can make it to the crest. The sensation of fighting gravity vivid under your soles. I felt it creeping. Knew it was coming. Last night the hours clicked by in the restless darkness. Is it really 3 am? 3:30? it can’t possibly be 4 AM. It was. The additional doses of seroquel couldn’t sway me. It was past 4 when I finally struggled into some semblance of sleep. This week has been off balance. the nights have been much the same. Awakening disoriented and exhausted. My mind and body trying to sort it out and coming up short. In the place of my usual night time seroquel hunger is a 24-7 variety. As if I have never eaten a day in my life. I watch as the scale shifts and the hairs on my neck stand up. I won’t even let myself go near it now. I don’t want to know. I returned to running today only to find myself sluggish and sub par just as everything else feels. I know it is tough to judge a drug when I started it coming off such a significant weight loss. I tell myself to be reasonable/ rational…nope. The anxiety is just oppressive. In my mind I see 300lbs looming there on the horizon. This is the drug I can’t keep at bay. The one I can’t exercise into submission. This is the one I fail at. As each day passes and we pull closer to the next dose increase it makes my skin crawl. It was 115 there within reach and it is indeed just a number. But that number is an okay place for me. One where I don’t nit pick and criticize myself. One where I can get away with looking in the mirror and not getting discouraged or angry. But that is gone now, it is trending hard in the other direction. Moving fast enough it scares me. terrifying enough for me not to even bring myself to go near my scale. It all just feels so fucking wrong. How is it this is the right choice? The right course of action? The responsible one? In my mind the scale numbers flicker there amidst the words from that psychopharm email. Is this acceptance? Is this what it is to submit and succumb to a treatment meant to help while all I can feel is my world shift under my feet. I was okay I thought. I’m not okay now. this is not alright. This is all my demons coming for dinner. My fears about weight. My distorted view of my own body. My distrust of a system, and ultimately some anger with Virgil. I took her word. I thought it would be ok. There is no evidence and there is no proof. I am just another guinea pig here swallowing pills by the handful in hopes they might make a difference. What if there is no difference to be made? How cruel and terrible. I know I am lost in a mind working on far too little sleep and amidst a major shift in mood. I understand that. It doesn’t make it one bit easier. It hurts just as much and scares me deeply.


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