Got in late today. Again. Was feeling good at the start of the day due to the extra sleep. Now my mood has plunged again, for reasons unknown.
I feel like bursting into tears. Why? I suppose I feel overwhelmed again. Thinking about how the lawn needs work. Thinking about how no one living in my house picks up after themselves and how it’s on me if I don’t want to live like a slob. How I want to crawl into bed and sleep some more after a sleep of 9-10 hours. Thinking about all of my failings, as a woman, and how I’ll never truly fit in anywhere if I just be myself. Thinking about my weight and how I have no motivation to change it, though I know how to. Thinking about the casual way my mother mentioned she might be out of a job soon, and that I’ll have to help her financially. Deadlines looming at work for things I haven’t completed yet. This isn’t right. This isn’t good.
I grow more curious as to what effects anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds might do for me. The appointment at TCN draws nearer, in the beginning of June. I hope it goes well, I hope the psyche-nurse-practioner they’re having me see on the first meeting prescribes me something. Probably not. This is an intake, I doubt there’s any prescribing done on the first day. I don’t want to feel like this. I feel so tired. I feel really tired.
I need to get up. I need to get up and start walking and jogging again. In the story I’m writing, the main characters is relentlessly athletic to avoid having to think or feel about his issues, and it works – he is able to avoid dwelling on these things. He’s damaged but smart – I seem unable to be the same. I’m curious about what my weight is currently. I don’t have the resolve to do the keto diet again, but I can go lower carb/modified keto. I don’t think I’m near my all-time high of 265 pounds, but I’m probably lurking in the 220s, 230s. That seems to be my baseline, for the most part.
If I’m sitting around miserable and unable to create, I might as well spend my time working to improve things around the house and getting fit. Maybe I’ll begin blogging semi-daily about my attempts to be active and my weight. It helped the last time I dropped the pounds. In around a year I shed about 100 lbs, bottoming out around 150. Given my large, cavewoman build and excess skin, that’s probably about right. Without surgical intervention I doubt I’d ever get to the coveted 130 or below, you know, the *proper* weight for a woman. I’d rather be healthy, able to fit into size 8-10, medium sized clothing again.
Astonishingly, my mood seems to have elevated a little just in the writing of these words. Big surprise, writing is one of the things that has a high chance of doing that.