I'm A Dense Little Lump of Gold.

You know that meme...the one with the hard to swallow pills?

Here's mine:

I have to thank American Liz for these words.  She set me solid straight, yesterday.

In order for me to maintain a consistent level of function, I actually do swallow a pill, everyday.  I don't make enough serotonin on my own, so I use store bought neurotransmitters to fill that gap.  This last week, when it came time to refill my prescription, I had a difficult time aligning my schedule with my pharmacy's wacky willy hours.  So, I ended up going three days without my best friend, Sertraline.

Missing a dose isn't devastating.  Missing two doses is pushing it, but tolerable.  Missing three, I start having...the thoughts.

That voice that tells me I'm not doing it right.  I'm not good enough.  That I am unworthy.  Most of the time, it's like watching them on a tv...I don't like hearing what they say, so I change the channel; and they're gone.

When I've gone three days without my meds, they're not "on tv", anymore.  They're in my face, and it's really hard to push them away.  Fortunately, years of therapy has given me the tools to redirect those thoughts, but it's exhausting.  It makes me feel fragile, and I am easily brought to tears.  

So yesterday, when I messaged Liz to commiserate about how much it sucks to rely on pharmaceuticals to feel "okay", she was down to hash it out.

And we talked about meds.  Struggling.  Dietbet regret (fluctuating weight is a buzzkillington).  Our body relationships.  The fact that we both have bodies that don't want to be thin, and that's okay. We are powerful women of the mountains...and we should embrace that.

She also told me that I am the same material as Stefi Cohen.

Stefi fucking Cohen.

For reference:

This is what my genes want for me...to get fucking massive.

So I have to accept the fact that I might just sit around this weight for who knows how long.  Maybe I'm just supposed to be around 170 lbs for the moment.  What I can strive for, then, is to get leaner.  

Yes, I would like to be "yoked".  In order to do this, though...I need to get away from "losing weight", and be okay with not shifting much on the scale.  I need to move to "losing fat" and "building muscle mass".  Easy, right?

Who doesn't want to be able to eat to fuel this Spartan machine?

"Stop starving; eat and lift."  

So, this weight loss challenge; I'm halfway through it, and I dropped water the first week, and accumulated it back this last week.  All I can do is be consistent with my diet and training...and what happens, happens.  If nothing else, it has been a good lesson in why these challenges aren't always a good idea.

My forecast for the next two weeks will be as follows:

I'm sure there will be days where I feel unstoppable, and others where I wonder what the actual purpose of it all is.  That's fine.  That's exactly what should happen.  Dieting is horsecock, and if it was easy, it wouldn't be a bazillion dollar a year industry, capitalizing on insecurities to make bank.

My body doesn't want to be thin.  

I won't have a thigh gap.  

I won't ever be frail and small.  

But I am a fucking powerhouse.  I will be honorary treasurer for the Monster Quad Squad.  I will be "yoked".  I will honour my genetic desire to be a cord chopping, child hauling mountain woman.

Yup.  

Because I am a dense little lump of gold.