Crying at the Psychiatrist, and Bras and Underwear

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I had my psychiatrist's appointment yesterday and it went unexpectedly downhill. I should have been glad to hear that I lost 5.4 pounds, down from 198 to 192.6. I still cried and felt it wasn't enough. My doctor asked me why I felt like the weight loss wasn't working, and I said that I guess it's because it's so goddamn slow. I told him how I never miss a workout, I never eat above 1800 calories a day, how hard it is, and how seemingly slow the results are. He said that from his perspective, 30 pounds in 7 months was better than most people do. And the fact that I'm doing the exercise and diet (despite how hard they are) sounds positive to him. Then I cried about the afternoons I spend lying in the dark, ruminating on how I've screwed up my life. I cried about how hard it is to take a shower, to brush my teeth. He questioned whether the afternoon mood seems like a time-of-day problem or a circumstantial issue when I'm left alone without a car and without the motivation to do anything. Since Matt and I have tried going to cafes in the afternoon and had a fine time, I told him I don't think it's a time-of-day problem. It's because aside from Matt, my life is garbage. I have nothing to show for 20 years of my life in the arts, and now I'm having to start over at 40 (almost 41) years old. He looked blankly back at me. He seemed genuinely confused as to why I was so upset. We'd just told him how we are going to Berlin for the month of June, partly for Matt's work, and partly just to get out of Dodge. He must have thought I should be happy and looking forward to the trip. He must have thought how I should appreciate the fact that I'm on disability and can leave the country at the drop of a hat. But I don't feel lucky. Everything feels like too little, and that I'm too late to do anything of significance with my life. 41 years old and starting a blog? It's 2019 and everyone else has been doing this for more than a decade. And how will I get anyone to read it anyway? I've shunned social media for so long that I don't know how to even approach getting back into it. My Facebook account hasn't been touched in about 10 years, mostly out of shame. It still has photos from 10 years ago, when I lived in New York and was at my thinnest. I was actively doing plays and auditioning and had friends. So I left my profile frozen in that time. I've had the thought that maybe it's time for me to "come out" on Facebook as fat, and as mentally ill. My husband has told me about friends of ours coming out as gay on Facebook, even an acquaintance who transitioned genders. They are not ashamed of these changes, and yet I'm ashamed of my weight gain and my mental illness. I guess it's a different (though obviously no more difficult) type of stigma around my issues. No one congratulates you or posts "Good for you!" when you announce a hundred pound weight gain. And while there may be an occasional shout-out to a suicide hotline when a celebrity dies from suicide, there's just not the same passion involved when it comes to chronic, treatment-resistant depression. But still, I just might take a stand on my own behalf and challenge my "friends" to accept me as I am.

Now while we're getting personal, here is the current state of my bras and underwear (20 items in all):

8 Bras:

2 Low-impact white (sort of graying) sports bras. I got these in the garment district in NYC. I have no idea of the brand or origin of these, though I've had them for at least 12 years now.

4 Lace-back bralettes by Marilyn Monroe Intimates, one black, one navy, one pale pink, and one rosy pink. I found a 2-pack at Marshalls and stalked down two more packs in my size at a different Marshalls. I did a bit of an illegal switcheroo and re-tagged the garish fluorescent pink ones and returned them. These are super comfortable and look fine even when you can see them under a top. The lace even covers an itchy tag on one of my sweaters.

2 Foam-cup, proper bras, one nude, one black. The brand is Vanity Fair, specifically the “Beauty Back” bra. I rarely wear these lately, but they're good for times when I want to look put together. Because they're a larger size, the band is nice and wide and has 3 hooks instead of the standard 2 you get in smaller sizes.

9 Underwear:

9 pairs of Ellen Tracy microfiber briefs in mauve/beige/black, all bought at Marshalls or TJ Maxx.

3 Other items:

1 Maidenform shapewear bodysuit. This can feel like body armor when you need it- sometimes I just feel too vulnerable having other people see my wobbly fat rolls through my clothes.

1 Cotton Kimono Robe. This was stolen from my husband- his parents got it for him in San Francisco. I adore it, though one sleeve is ripped and needs repair.

1 Lands' End white terry-cloth robe in XL. A classic right out of the shower, or great as an added layer of warmth on cold mornings.

I do have other undergarments in storage, though nothing that fits right now. I still have yet to lose enough weight to downsize in the underwear department. When that time comes, I have some new-in-plastic underwear that I bought online with a bit too much optimism. At one point at my higher weight, I tried to find cotton underwear instead of microfiber or polyester. It was just about impossible to find what I wanted in plus sizes- hence the still-in-plastic Warner “no-muffin-top” cotton underwear waiting for their turn in the wardrobe. I also have 12 pairs of Warner “no-muffin-top” microfiber underwear in a smaller size, and two Beauty Back bras in a smaller size. I'm chomping at the bit to get back into my smaller things. It's just so hard to wait.