Crashing Down to Earth

Today marks the end of an adventure -- one that was started the day I decided to sign up for the Optifast Weight loss program. It is now early Monday morning, April the 13th. An auspicious date? Not really, just the first day of rebuilding some new sense of normalcy in my life.

Losing weight, or the decision to, started a chain reaction. That, along with the brain chemistry change from the anti-depressant, kicked something into high gear. I escaped from myself. I cut the tethers that were keeping me down for so long and like Icarus, floated a little too close to the sun. I lost 25 pounds in about a month, I got Botox, then more Botox, and then even more Botox and Juvederm injected into my cheeks. I hired a contractor to renovate my house; I went to Argentina for 3 weeks. I booked myself to have plastic surgery on my eyes, nose and chin in August in New York; I basically went on a spree of excess and escape.

Yes, I thought I felt better, and at times I did break through to some pure sense of joy in myself. A feeling that I am loveable, funny, generous and kind. Someone who is genuinely happy to be on this piece of rock we call Earth. Most of the time, however, I was running as fast as I could from any and all negative thoughts and feelings. If I buy enough art, if I make my house look like a photo spread in House & Home, if I have Tom Cruise's dermatologically enhanced cheekbones, if I have sex with as many hot men as want me -- then I won't have to think of how much I actually still hate myself. There is still work to be done, obviously.

It is time to give Dr. Oliver a call and begin the next phase in rebuilding Adrian. Not really rebuilding, but demolishing and starting fresh from the old foundation. The bones are good, in designer speak, all that is needed is to fix the structural damage. My poor ego has been buffeted by Psychic hurricanes, earthquakes, fires and floods. However, like Argentina, I am proud, strong, damaged yet resilient.