Mar. 8th, 2006

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Acetyl-L-Carnitine 500 mg
DLPA 500 mg
L-Theanine 200 mg
Vitamin C 4 grams
Calcium 500 mg
Ashwagandha 900 mg
Triphala 1 gram
Shilajit 1 gram

I keep forgetting that DL-Phenylalanine makes me feel good. Chocolate and sex and all that.

They say that sex and orgasm kills pain. They're right. Since my hubby came home from Colorado, I have discovered that my body really can move and flex in ways I hadn't thought about. With a foot of height difference between us, there is never much room for me to maneuver, but last night I realized that I have become strong enough to actually lift my pelvis, with him in me, so that I can lift him with me. I have never done that before, I don't think. Usually it was just my legs wrapped around his waist. The cerebral palsy and my underweight skinny ass never allowed much strength and coordination. But I guess score one for gaining some healthy weight, especially muscle. Plus, it has been over four years since I learned to control how the CP affects me. Maybe my body has finally started reaping the rewards. So to speak. And my brain is better able to utilize its dopamine and serotinin and endorphins, because there was no pain at all in the afterglow. No ache, no burn, no nothing. This is also a breakthrough: My mom and I have had numerous discussions about the relationship between cerebral palsy and low dopamine levels and the inability to produce enough endorphins. I think I just shot that theory down for a while by learning how to get past the CP's general hold on the muscles.

This sounds odd to me, but I have noticed that the world looks and feels different now that I am on a steady higher dose of Trileptal. The sex last night was incredibly powerful to me not just because we hadn't seen each other in two weeks. It was also the sensations, the sensitivities, the experience inside my brain and on my skin, little shivers and ripples everywhere especially my endorphin loving scalp. Yep. Mood enhancing reality altering drug. Yay.
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According to the Gap pants sizing charts (Gap being the best brand I can really wear) I am now... *deep breath* a size 4. Yes, four. Not size two anymore. Four. Four.

I look at the pile of pants on my floor that are now too small and I almost cry. Into the donation pile. Now, on to Ebay to buy bigger pants cheaply.

And my gripe about the clothing industry and petite women: Hey, assholes, you may make pants that will fit my wider hips, but how about my still tiny waist? Huh? You think just because a woman has 35 inch hips that she must have a 25 inch waist? Really? NO! No we don't! I have a 23.5 inch waist. But according to you, that must mean I am still a size one. Do you know how weirded out that makes my sense of self? Although my tailor thanks you. Really. I have been taking a lot of pants in to her lately.

What the hell do you do when you're a recovering anorexic and you realize that your pants size just went up and yet technically stayed the same?

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