Only smoke and ashes

With less than a month, or rather, just 15 days until I hit the last year of my thirties, I am struggling with more than just deciding what to wear daily.

A lot of my old brain lizards are back, chirping away.

Full confession: I have gained back a bit of weight.

This small weight gain, because it is small, has thrown me into a tailspin.

I had to go back on insulin in May.

I have regained weight since going back on the insulin.

One of the many factors that led to me ballooning to my highest recorded weight was going on insulin.

Now, I am terrified that being back on insulin will lead to me regaining every fucking pound I have lost.

And this terror hits me at the strangest times. It has me question every morsel I put into my mouth.

For I have worked so hard to get this weight off. And even less than 10 pounds creeping back onto my body has me livid, yet paralyzed with fear over what comes next.

Needing the insulin again did not bother me. I thought that the side effects that came with it the first time would not happen again.

Yet, they might be.

And I don't know how to feel about that, except fight against it.

Another facet of life I am struggling with is the old voices telling me that I'm just not pretty.

A lot of this has to do with pictures I've seen of myself.

It probably also has to do with the numbers I'm seeing on the scale too

A lot has to do with just not being heard.

I have people walking away from me at work, before I finish a sentence

I have people, people who have had my same surgery, telling me that they should have believed me when I told them that they may not like water afterwards. Or that they may not lose weight right away post surgery. And most importantly, it takes a lot of time to lose the weight.

Some has to do with me telling people I've had the surgery and then get to watch as they eyeball me, analyzing my current size.

I know that losing, regaining and then losing a bunch of weight over the course of my life has not left me with a perfect body. Never am I more aware of that during these moments of intense scrutiny.

Having a friend tell me that I would obviously be getting my breasts done at some point was another mild slap to my face

As well as having another friend tell me that they would give me the information of their mother's plastic surgeon so I could pursue getting a neck lift done, without me asking for said information

So, yep, hard to feel a smidge attractive these days when I am being told I need plastic surgery

Yet, what I struggle with the most is this phrase I first heard in an online knitting community: "You need to put on your own oxygen mask first"

Anyone has has flown in an airplane knows this concept: if the flight gets into trouble, you must put on your own oxygen mask first so you can help other around you

I struggle with self care

I struggle with asking for help

I am the type of person who will figure out a way to carry in all the bags from the grocery store at once rather than make more than one trip

I will put the needs of others before my own

I still say yes when I really want to say no

And when I allow all of this to pile up on me, I implode

My gift to myself for my 39th year, besides yarn, is going to be to work on putting on my own mask first

This will not be an easy task for me. I have the heart of a servant. My job is serving others. My volunteer activities are serving others.

For crying out loud, even when I knit with someone else, I end up helping my fellow knitter out with their projects more than working on my own projects

Even when I am at Target, I end up helping people find things

I love helping others until it gets to the point where I start to resent it

For I can't be of use to anyone if I am struggling to breathe

I am fortunate enough to have people in my life that respect that I will not always answer the phone or respond to a text

I am fortunate enough to have people in my life that respect when I say "I need to recharge" for my introverted self does have a limit for socializing

I am fortunate enough to have people respectful of my time that when they ask me a question or a favor, they don't demand a immediate response

I am glad I am realizing that it is not a sign of weakness to ask for help. Or for prayer.

It doesn't mean that I do it often, but at least now I will ask.

I am glad that I realize it is not selfish or rude to say no to invitations I do not want to accept

I just choose to spend my time with people that recharge me rather than drain me

I am also glad I am getting better at recognizing these people as well, because I used to suck at it

And this summer, this summer has tested me. Not just with the weight issues, but with other things. I've had a couple of health problems. I've over-committed myself. I found myself struggling to breathe.

So, I did something a wee bit revolutionary for me. I started saying no to things. At work, in my personal life. I took some mental health time, which in some instances meant a day off work

At first, I felt horrible. As if I was letting someone down. That I wasn't being productive. That I was ruining my career. That I was damaging relationships

However, the more time I took to reflect, I realized that I was being more harmful if I didn't take care of me

This realization doesn't make it easier to take care of Darcey all the time

But I sure do have an easier time with my own mask strapped to my face than when I let it dangle until everyone around me is taken care of