If you're a 90's child like myself, you know this Saved by the Bell video. And you've laughed at it, undoubtedly.
But think about it for a second. Haven't you ever felt like that? Let's be honest here, we all have.
Examples, you ask?
-Graduating high school and going to college
-Meeting the one and getting married
-Having a baby
-Finding the perfect job
You are all excited at first. Life is great and it couldn't get better...and then the anxiety kicks in. What if college isn't all it's cracked up to be? What if that person isn't the one? What if I'm a horrible parent? What if I do something to screw this job up? Now you have completely scared yourself.
Well, my friends (and hopefully slowly growing faithful reading audience), I have managed to get myself into one of these pickles yet again. Except I went from fear to hope to a combination of both (depending on the moment, quite honestly).
First, a little background. Went to the doctor for a physical in June. My thyroid level was extraordinarily high, so I was put on thyroid medication. After discussing things with my mother, who also has thyroid problems, I went and saw her endocrinologist. In addition to the perceived hypothyroidism my primary care physician diagnosed, I magically contracted Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and metabolic syndrome as well. I hit the proverbial hormonal jackpot.
Two new medications and a threat to lose 80 pounds or else consideration for bariatric surgery later, and I am scared out of my mind. Backed by a wonderful support system of family, friends, co-workers, and the like, that fear turned into hope that I could in fact do this. I set up a profile on My Fitness Pal (MamaMandabear -- feel free to add me as a friend) and started really watching what I ate. I also really started a fitness plan. The elliptical is now my best friend (and watching SBTB this morning is what prompted this whole entry, actually).
I can't help but shake the feeling that I will fail, inevitably, as I always have before. I lose the weight for a bit and then gain it all back plus an added bonus of a few more. I don't want surgery. I also do not want to go back to bulimia.
Being a bulimic was probably the lowest point of my life. Sneaking around, shoving my hand down my throat, hiding the scars on my knuckles and blood shot eyes. And for what? Nothing. I quite honestly have no idea what I was trying to accomplish. Bulimia is not like it is in the teenage movies where the weight magically comes off. I got nowhere fast, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't give it up. It became my drug.
I thank God each and every day for Cristian. Becoming pregnant with him helped cure me once and for all of my bulimia. Without him, who knows how much longer I could have kept the charade up.
Bottomline, I want to be in this for the long haul. So if you get sick of my posts on Twitter and Facebook, I suggest we end this friendship now. Not because I am an attention whore. But because I need support. Support is my lifeline right now.
My wrist says FAITH. I suppose I should have some in myself. That's always been difficult for me.
So at the risk of sounding like a bad 90's sitcom. I'm so excited. I'm so excited! I'm so...scared.
I'm Mandy, a mother of a handsome handful of a toddler. I'm the wife to a relocated Jersey boy at heart for almost five years. I'm a "youngster" in "Corporate Legal America." I'm one-seventh of a dynamically loud and loving family. I'm a woman with newly-diagnosed hypothyroidism, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and Metabolic Syndrome trying to find a course of treatment that works. I'm a twenty-something trying to find her way on a journey to discover faith, friends and fitness. Most importantly, I'm me. I'm just trying to figure out who that is exactly...