Diaries I Read:
There was a time in my life when I was very unhappy. Times, actually. The unhappiness pretty much started when I went to college, came to a head my junior year, came to another head about a year after graduation, and then creeped in and out of my life until I met B.
Depression is a dark and scary thing. It is real, almost tangible. And it�s almost impossible to explain to somebody who has never experienced it. Sure, everyone�s had their bad days, but depression is different. It�s darker. It consumes your whole body and mind. It isn�t logical, can�t be willed away.
It�s been a long time since I�ve felt the weight of depression. And once you�re out of it, you tend to forget what it was like. You�re even a little impatient with others who are experiencing it.
I have been depressed today. I�m almost embarrassed to admit the reason why, but I will anyway.
If anyone�s been reading this week, you�ll know that I�ve been really dedicated to getting/staying/being in shape. I�ve been working out every day, eating really well, and carrying high hopes that it would all pay off when I stepped on the scale today.
I went to the gym before work to weigh myself because I wasn�t sure I�d make it there during lunchtime. According to the scale, I�ve gained two pounds.
I would have been pleased (not thrilled) to have lost two pounds. I would have been disappointed to have stayed the same. I was devastated to see that I�ve gained two pounds.
Because it makes no sense, I haven�t even really accepted it as truth yet. Frankly, I�m really questioning whether the scale is accurate. I even went to Target today during lunch and bought a bathroom scale. Maybe that will prove more reliable from week to week since you never know what�s going on with those scales at the gym.
The issue here, however, isn�t really whether or not I�ve gained two pounds. Maybe I have, maybe I haven�t. The issue is how my little experience on the scale this morning � a tiny line on a measuring stick � has made me feel.
I have been in a funk all day. I�ve cried on the phone with B. I�ve sobbed (really, sobbed) at my desk at work (quietly, though, so nobody heard). I�ve cried with my WW buddy here at work. I�ve moped around. I�ve sat here all day basically doing nothing, being entirely unproductive.
I have felt worthless, fat, ugly, stupid, lazy. Really. Those are the words running through my head. I�ve felt like everyone around me must be thinking about how chunky I look, how unfortunate it is that I appeared to be losing weight but have put it back on.
I�ve felt like just leaving work, going home, and crawling in bed to sleep away my misery. And I haven�t eaten anything but an apple all day. And a cup of coffee. Two points. I feel like I don�t deserve to eat, like I can starve away this excess weight, starve away my unhappiness. Waste away until my clothes are too loose and I feel good again.
And most people reading this would probably be surprised to see what I look like. I�m not fat. I�m not overweight. I�m not a skinny rail, but most people would probably say I am slender. I feel like a whale, though. A bloated pig. That�s where depression is illogical.
And the not eating thing? I know it won�t last. I�m hungry right now. I know it�s not a smart way to lose weight. That�s not even why I�m doing it, really. I just can�t bring myself to eat. The thought of putting a sandwich in my mouth is completely unappealing. Somehow the empty feeling inside feels good.
When I feel like this, I can�t even fake it. I think I used to be better at putting on a front and acting like everything was OK even when it wasn�t. For some reason, though, I can�t seem to bring myself to do it anymore. The girls wanted to go shopping during lunch today, and I couldn�t go. I just knew I couldn�t walk around smiling and talking and trying to act interested in what they were saying and looking at. I can�t be bothered with it.
I feel like somebody has cut a hole in my side and just drained all of the energy, happiness, laughter, breath out of me. I feel like drawing a shade over myself and just disappearing.
At the same time, though, I know it�s just temporary. I know I�ll snap out of it and start feeling better. I guess right now I don�t want to. I want to be sad. I feel like I deserve it, somehow.
Oh my gosh, there are so many worse things than this. There is tragedy all around me and I�m sitting here moping about a number on a scale. A number that may not even be right. A number that may likely change dramatically in a week. And there are so many better things than this. There are so many things to be happy about, thankful for. But I guess that�s why I�m writing this � never before have I been able to look at depression so critically while feeling it at the same time. I had forgotten what it was like.
Working at home - Wednesday, Nov. 17, 2004
Toronto - Tuesday, Nov. 16, 2004
On the way to Toronto... - Tuesday, Nov. 09, 2004
A Good Day - Monday, Nov. 08, 2004
Another letter - Thursday, Nov. 04, 2004