|September 22, 2007||Posted by The Informal Matriarch under depression, family, health, motherhood, parenting, peanut allergies, stay at home mom|
A year ago I was feeling so great. Feeling like I wouldn’t ever get hit by the depression bug ever again, feeling like I’d always stay skinny and that my passion for eating healthy would stay with me. I would say that it’s easy to not emotional eat, it’s easy to stay happy. I hate it when I come out of that reality. Here I am feeling depressed again. Nothing I believed in then is happening now. Nothing. My stomach hurts from pounding desert down my throat, anything to make me feel comforted, even if it hurts after.
Usually depression starts with a traumatic event then you start negative talk in your mind, usually without thinking. Since Silas had his allergic reaction I’ve gone from strong happy mommy to undeserving of anything, especially of my husband. In my mind I’m no longer worthy of him and in my mind I’m a terrible mother. In my mind I’ve given into the clumps of fat on my back and embraced the one thing that comforts me, food.
I freaking hate this feeling, I hate it with all of my heart. I know exactly what i need to do. I need to stop the negative talk, start eating healthy and get some exercise (got the exercise part ok). Depression makes for a heavy ass which is hard to lift from it’s spot on the couch or on the chair in front of the computer. It makes me not care about being who I want to be. Hopeless about my skills. Hopeless about my marriage. It’s awful. Ugh.
Anyway, no worries, I can get myself out of this. I can tell you all of the factors that got me here. It started back when Brent and I got evicted and then stress after stress came and went and left their ugly mark upon me. There’s a lot that’s been going on, too much for my poor little brain to handle. I think this peanut allergy is icing on the cake, along with lack of sunshine lately and feeling closed in this place with no windows and unfinished projects blocking the open feeling I need.
Good thing I can write more passionately when I’m sad though. Makes for good reading.