I can't count how many little "crises" I've been through the past few months. The amount of weight I've been "playing" with has increased from about five pounds to ten, meaning the range I've been bouncing in is between 265 and 275. I'm sitting at 275 today after a couple days below that.
Late last week I was slapped hard in the face with what I am calling a bout of acute depression. In the past decade or so, I've had a couple days here and there where I don't feel so hot, or just have PMS or whatever, but it's been a long time since I have experienced this level of depression. When I was in my 20s especially, I was treated for depression via talk therapy and medicine and it always felt like I was trying to ward it off. Finally, in my early-mid 30s things seemed to level out. So it came to me as a big surprise to feel the way I've been feeling again.
I've been trying to hold to some things so that I don't totally backslide, because I cannot lose what I have achieved. I just can't.
Today I saw a friend for the first time in while. She couldn't believe how I looked – "You're straight up and down now!" she exclaimed, and also asked how it felt to be in this body now.
It was a question I realized that I didn't quite know how to answer, because even though I have experienced many changes, somehow I still feel not so much different than I was, probably because, I figured, I still have so much more weight to lose.
I guess what I am realizing is that this is all just such a huge mindfuck. It really is. I feel like, no wonder why I am depressed and feeling like I can't do it anymore. This stuff is hard and it is a big adjustment in many ways.
That's not to say it's not worth it. I love the clothes I have been wearing, and I love the things that I can do more easily since I've lost the weight I have so far. I love that I get a clean bill of health from my doctor. And if I keep going, it will only get better!
I don't think being careless/carefree about what I eat is worth giving that stuff up. I know it isn't.
I've chucked all those time-based goals I had set for myself, and decided that I will likely not do one of those again. I think they stress me out and make me want to eat more, generally. For now, I am aiming to solidly get back into the 260s and just be nice to myself. I am still logging into MyFitnessPal every day and log my food as accurately as I can. It's not always pretty, but it's a good habit to maintain and does keep me accountable on some level. I will also continue to weigh myself every day for at least a while – otherwise I worry that it would be too easy to slip away if I'm not watching those numbers like a hawk right now.
I'm still intending to eat as best I can within my calorie limits and macros but I am not stressing about it too much. I stopped exercising this past week but will start up again with a walk tomorrow.
The exercise happened along with the arrival of my depression. Last Friday I ended up canceling my PT appointment and I called in sick to work because I just could not force myself to get up and face the day. There was just no way. The next day (and the following Tuesday), I skipped out on running group because I didn't have the physical energy to walk or run, nor the mental/emotional energy to mentor and be a good cheerleader. I felt exhausted both physically and mentally, and so I broke. But now after a week or so of no exerted activity, I don't feel much better or worse. I still have the usual aches and pains, so why not get back to my routine and feel like there is a reason for those aches and pains, other than just getting old?
So that's what I have been dealing with the past week. Desperately holding on by a thread.
Tonight I am hoping for a meaningful respite from all this and going to see one of my favorite bands (Sleater-Kinney) with one of my favorite friends (Lizz). Let me share one of my favorite S-K songs with you here. I'm going to dance!