Well people, it was going really well. I was so gung-ho about this blog, about Weight Watchers, about my life as a SAHM. But then last week, something changed. My emotions tipped out of balance and my world was thrown gradually off-kilter until I found myself on the couch at the end of the day eating Nutella right out of the jar. After that, it was easy to eat that egg-shaped shortbread cookie from Panera. And then get a Cappuccino Blast on my way to work. To eat three pancakes this morning instead of my usual two. And now I’ve stopped even counting my points because I know I’m in the negative and knowing exactly how far down I’ve gone is more than I can handle right now.
Last week, I wanted to run away. It was such a terrible week. It started off OK, but then that thing with the insurance guy, the constant rain, a flare-up of my depressive symptoms, and a nagging migraine that I just couldn’t shake. I wanted to go to a hotel, any hotel (well, preferably one with a very soft bed) and I wanted to sleep and dream in the comfort of knowing that no one would wake me up early, no one would pull my covers away, no one would hog the bed. I imagined myself sleeping and dreaming in the total blackness of hotel blackout curtains (which for some reason are about a thousand times more blackouty than the ones I have at my house). I imagined waking up late, going out for waffles, and then maybe doing some shopping. I don’t need anything, don’t even really want anything, but I love shopping and I love eating and if there’s a chance that either of those therapies could have taken that feeling of total darkness away then I wanted to go for it. I wanted to try. I wanted to do something, anything, to ease my pain.
I thought I was over this period of adjustment to staying home. I thought I was doing well; I thought I had the time and energy to write this blog again. But depression is cyclic, it comes and goes, almost like the evening tide, but with longer stretches between. The tide is out now, and I’m struggling. Nothing seems to help, not cookies, not Nutella, not even rainbow cupcakes at work. But that was always the problem, wasn’t it? I’m an emotional eater, but food was never the answer. Food will not fill this void even though last week, I tried to make it do just that. I usually tell myself there’s always tomorrow, there’s always a fresh start in the morning. Now maybe for my fresh start, I’ll have to wait til next week, when my points reset themselves. When my brain rights itself. When I can once again navigate these choppy waters without wanting to throw myself overboard every chance I get.