What a week. I can't believe how much we've done this last week. I'm mentally and physically worn out. It was a good week in so many ways but packing things in like that is crazy. I'm happy to be back to our regular working schedule.
Yesterday was a bad day. I'm very unhappy with myself. I skipped breakfast (time crunch) then ate too many cookies. I delayed lunch (full of cookies), then ate a very large portion. My dinner portion wasn't too big but was all just cheese (quesadilla) - no fruit/veggies for balance. On top of the cookies, I polished off a candy bar. Admittedly, the overall quantity or choices wasn't horrific. It was a good example of the progress I've made - while I did over eat I felt full sooner and hit the stopping point a lot faster than I have in the past. Then there's the other side of this - I just stopped caring about being better.
Sure, I was tired. And yes, I had a lot going on. Physically, I felt lousy with a wet cough and congestion. My stress level yesterday (up until about 9pm or so) was extremely high. I was angry and frustrated. I was trying really hard to go forward, be productive, be polite, move along. It seems very easy to say that I treated all those emotions with food. Specifically, I treated them with bad junk food.
Realistically, I know that changing my lifestyle is a process. I will have days when I give up, and days when I make huge strides. A lifetime of poor eating choices takes time to overcome and rewire. Emotionally, though, I'm finding it hard to pick myself back up again. How many times am I going to go through this before I learn? At least, that's how it feels. And all I really want to do is crawl in bed and stay there for the day.
It's hard to say how much of this plays into depression. I'd like to pretend that depression doesn't matter, that it isn't a problem in my life, that sometimes I'm just a little 'blue.' But all of that would be a lie. It does matter. It matters to everyone I live with and work with. It's a struggle - sometimes a daily struggle - that can't be shrugged away lightly. It makes understanding the big picture a lot harder. So, I want to crawl into bed for the day. Is it the depression working on top of the physical illness and exhaustion? Or is it just my body trying to get me to take a nap?
I'm pretty sure I'm just talking myself in circles.
Yesterday, I raided the pile of clothes I had set aside to donate. I retrieved two pairs of jeans from the pile to add back into my closet. When I set them aside, they were too small. Yesterday, they fit just fine.
Somethings are good.
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