The mouse is gone.
At least for now.

My brother was here until yesterday, helping me to mouse-proof my apartment and kill the one that was driving me crazy the last few weeks. Thank God he was here and helped me to catch the sucker.

But I'm still afraid to go into my kitchen, especially at night. My super never came to repair the holes all over my kitchen walls that are letting the damn mice in. I'll make sure he does eventually, but until then, my kitchen is an uncomfy place to be.

It's so strange, this feeling of being"on-guard" all the time.
Of feeling like you're paranoid, like someone or something is out to get you at all times, like the other shoe is just waiting to drop.
I feel the weight of all of this tension all over my body, especially in my shoulders.
I am unable to relax, to trust anything or anyone, especially myself.

Today, I was looking for something at the Walgreens in Times Square. As I was walking out, a man tripped and reached for my shopping bags to catch himself.
But I thought he was reaching into my bags to steal the new shoes I'd just purchased, and I whipped my bags away, causing him to fall to the ground.
This man happened to be African American, and I'm sure he thought I was scared of him only because he was black and therefore, trying to steal from me.
I apologized profusely as soon as I realized exactly what had happened, knowing that I would have done it no matter the person who tripped in that moment.

I felt awful afterwards, and realized just then how jumpy I've been lately.
How I can't seem to just be.

I'm no stranger to anxiety issues, but this is a completely different set. I've never felt this paranoid before; the other times, it was much more physical and a different kind of emotional, where I just couldn't calm myself down.

Now, I'm totally calm, but carry the weight of the city on my shoulders.
I feel the tension all over my body, from my jaw to my toes.
My voice teacher and I have had to work extra hard to help my face and upper body muscles to relax for other reasons, and all of that hard work is going out the window.

I began taking private Feldenkrais lessons last week, with my wonderful music theory professor who happens to be a Feldenkrais practitioner.
I'm hoping he can help me to relax and remind me how my body is naturally supposed to feel.
At our first lesson, I learned exactly what tension feels like and where I tend to hold it (seems like common sense, huh? I was surprised at how easy it is to just ignore the tension that's always there, because we don't know any different.)
And how certain parts of my body respond negatively to touch, causing tension in muscles that wouldn't otherwise hold it.
I'm hoping and praying this helps me to learn to feel tension and therefore release it.
And also help me to find inner poise and calm.

I'm thinking about seeing a therapist again, perhaps someone who can put me on some anti-anxiety meds.
I hate to go back on anxiety medications, but if they might help, I'm willing to try them again.
At some point in time, I will need to learn how to survive living here.

I'm playing with the idea that I might never be happy in this city.
Can I be content with discontent?
Can letting myself not feel bad about feeling bad allow me to just BE?
Or will it just invite more negativity in, causing more unhappiness?

The funny thing about being on-guard all the time is that it's almost fun to choose certain things to be off-guard towards.
Like eating, for example.
My "fuck-it-all" attitude towards food has been rearing it's ugly head lately.
For example, I had pizza, a beer, a cookie AND a piece of cheesecake for dinner the other night, after inhaling a falafel bowl and birthday cake for lunch earlier that day.

It feels good to let go of something when everything else seems to be so hard to let go of.
Funny how for me, it's food and my good habits.
Makes total sense, though I wish I could choose to let go of some of this paranoia instead.
But, no matter how many mantras I say, or how many mice I kill, I can't let it go.

How do you let positivity back in when negativity so easily fills your home and body and mind?

Of Mice and Women

I have mice in my kitchen.
And I want them gone.

These tiny little mice are taking over my life and my sanity. I know I'm letting them do it. I know I can control both the mice and how I respond to them. Yes, I know that I am slightly bigger than these mice that weigh no more than 2 ounces. And yes, I know that they are more afraid of me than I am of them and I need to just get over it and live my life already.

I've discovered this week that I am insanely afraid of mice.
Whenever I see one running along the wall I freak out, and my ability to accomplish anything in the hours that follow is almost completely diminished.
They are keeping me out of my kitchen, and probably making the Chinese food restaurant happy to know me.

I haven't cooked a meal in my kitchen in over a week.
I love to cook, and I feel like a part of my identity has been taken away.

I haven't felt safe in my own home in over a week, and I have yet to let my guard down and truly relax.
I haven't been sleeping well and my emotions are running high.

I'm doing surprisingly well with my eating, ordering a lot salads and steamed chicken and veggies from the Chinese place that loves me so much.
And the damn mice keep me out of my kitchen pretty much all of the time, so I'm not mindlessly munching away on food I don't really need.
I guess that's the good thing that's come out of this.

But I can't order food forever, for the sake of my wallet and my sanity I need to be cooking again.
I tried that tonight, until I saw a mouse stuck to the glue traps the exterminator set out today.
I didn't realize I'd be the one to actually kill the damn things, and I was looking for the most humane method possible, so I doused it with 409 cleaner.
Stupid me, that only allowed the mouse to free itself and run under my sink.
And then I freaked out, had an anxiety attack, and have been hiding in my bedroom ever since.

These goddamn mice are a constant reminder of how much I hate living in this city.
And how bitter I am that the rabbinical students have some say in where they can go, while cantorial students are forced to come to this hellhole of a city, go into debt simply to have a roof over our heads, and deal with bullshit like this.
It makes me angry and miserable.

I had a breakdown in t'fillah yesterday, partly because of the mice, partly because it's been a shitty week overall.
My favorite professor chewed me out over some pieces I sang in class, pieces I thought I sang well.
I looked like a moron conducting in choir the other day, screwing up my patterns and stumbling my words like I always do because I can't speak for shit.
I turned to the wrong page as I was sight-singing in music theory, causing the girls to laugh at me. They thought it was in fun, and I laughed to look like I was laughing with them when I actually felt like a total loser.
My mom tried to get me to come home for the long weekend, and then guilt tripped me up the wazoo when I told her why I couldn't. (Now I wish I had, of course.)

I wonder sometimes if I'll ever feel safe here.
If I'll ever feel at home.
If I'll ever have anyone else here besides me.
If I'll decide to give up this space and my independence and move to Brooklyn to be closer to everyone else.
If I'll ever be able to let my guard down and relax again.

Right now, I just want to go home and be with my family and crazy little dog.
Or transfer to Cincinnati and become a rabbinical student (this isn't the first time I've thought about it...not at all because I want to be a rabbi, but because I don't want to commit myself to 3 more years in this hellhole...probably not a good enough reason to switch programs.)

Dave commented on one of my earlier posts that he'd meet me in Times Square when hell freezes over.
Well, Dave, NYC is hell, and it's pretty damn cold here, so I'll meet you there in a few.

Fucking mice.

WTF?

After posting last night, I decided to step on the scale again. It was a number that was 4lbs higher than I wanted it to be.

I weighed myself again this morning, just to see what happens, and I weighed exactly 4lbs less than I did last night.

I know you weigh less in the morning than you do at night...but 4lbs less? I'm wearing the same exact clothes (I weighed myself in my PJ's last night and this morning.) I know I haven't eaten yet today, but still...weird...

Maybe it's just my scale? I'll be pissed if that's the case, considering I paid a hefty price for that scale.

I also went to sleep last night feeling like a terrible, horrible person for gaining 4 more pounds. I'm starting to feel like I did when I was a child, after a bad WW meeting or a scolding from my grandpa. All I could think about as I was trying to fall asleep were ridiculous ways to lose that weight and then some. I'd never try any of what I thought about, but it's scary to know I'm thinking about it at all.

Maybe I need a shrink?

I'm going to try really hard to be gentle with myself, to tell myself that my body is still readjusting from vacation and time away from it's normal routine and lifestyle. It's really, really hard, however, as I discovered last night. I've been in this place before, where I've gained a little and let it discourage me enough to gain it all back. I don't want to be in that place again, especially after so much hard work and dedication to this.

And the fact that I love and respect myself in a way I never have before...I don't want to lose that.

I also realized that--as of last night's numbers--I've gained back 7.4% of the 100lbs I've lost. That's a big number and it makes me feel awful.

Realizations

Sugar is addicting, as are refined carbohydrates. I'd done so well at removing them from my diet the last year and a half that it's taken me nearly 2 months to get out of the habit of eating them every single day. Over winter break and on my vacation I might as well have poured a big bag of sugar down my throat--between cookies, chocolate, fancy desserts at every meal, pastiries--I was a walking 238 pound bag of sugar.

Thank goodness my body is back to the point where I'm not craving sweets ALL THE TIME.

The other big news? I stepped the scale for the first time since November. I went up 3.4 pounds, which, while rather sucky, is better than I'd anticipated. I should mention that it took every ounce of courage in my body to step on that scale. I felt like I was back in elementary school again, when the gym teachers were recording our heights and weights and body fat percentage. Torturous.

I'm also in the process of trying to figure out how to get off my ass and move a little. I'm very conflicted over this, as I have several choices and all of them have pros and cons. Here's a list:

NYU Gym
PROS: It's CHEAP--$100/semester. It's also close to school, meaning I could go before/after school when I'm not working
CONS: It's close to school, meaning it isn't close to home and I wouldn't go on my days off. It's also kinda shady, and the other NYU gym is farther away, meaning I'd never go. It's also full of college kids, including the sorostitute-types that used to laugh at me when I'd hit the gym in college.

CURVES
PROS: It's on my block. It's also women-only, with women of every shape, size, age, nationality, etc. I'm familiar with it, as I was a member in St Louis before I started school.
CONS: It's EXPENSIVE. $75 registration fee and $50/month if I sign up for 12 months. It also doesn't seem like the kind of workout I'm looking for, but I don't really know what I'm talking about in that department. The hours aren't always convenient.

FELDENKRAIS
PROS: For my singing, it's exactly what I need to be doing right now. I also think it'd be extremely helpful for my inner-poise and confidence, and it's amazingly relaxing. My music theory professor, who is adorable, would be one of my teachers.
CONS: It's also very expensive, much more so than Curves. It isn't really a "workout", which means I'd have to implement it with something else. It's addicting, meaning I'd have to keep shelling out the bucks if I want to continue.

What is a fat girl to do when she is addicted to sugar and can't make up her mind about how to burn it all off?

Suggestions are welcome.

And Spinrads, if you feel like moving to NYC next year instead of Cinci, I'd happily hire Dave to train me and throw in some free hours of babysitting Little Miss D. Can I tempt you to change your mind from Cinci to the Big Apple???