I’m a bit of a mess today. Not as bad as yesterday, when Mark chose to stay home from work just to keep me from bursting into tears around every corner. He kept me occupied, and I appreciated the company. I’m incredibly tired of walking on eggshells, though – for myself. I feel like anything I do or plan to do can send me swirling into a panic attack, and I don’t like that I have no control over my own emotions. Of course, I’ve been meaning to go to a doctor for some time – and I think it will have to happen very soon.
Lately, it’s been a mix of school and my weight that keeps getting me down. School is just stressful – and even more so when I’m going through my “low periods” where I just don’t want to get out of bed. I can get by without going to class. I’ve always been good at teaching myself concepts, and I’ve got a relatively good hold on what I need to learn before any exam or assignment. That said, I end up with this ridiculously distressing amount of guilt, and that makes me even more likely to have to miss my next class to recover. It’s a silly vicious cycle, which I’m trying hard to break.
The worst part of it all, though, is my weight. I’ve been struggling with my weight for ten years now. Ten years. That’s nearly 1/3 of my life. Family members ask if I’ve lost weight yet. (They don’t mean it in a bad way, just conversationally, but it always stings a bit.) I follow a million different fitness blogs, which are meant to be inspiring, but really just make me disgusted – with myself. Why am I so lazy? Why do I eat so much? Why am I so miserable?
It’s an interesting thing, really – I’m aware that the things that I think about when I eat or look at food aren’t healthy. I know that walking into a restaurant and worrying that people are judging me for my meal – when I’m eating a salad and a piece of chicken – is ridiculous. Why would they look at me at all, let alone judge my food? This happens not only in restaurants, though, but at the grocery store (are they judging what’s in my cart?) and even at home (I need to justify this snack, because otherwise people will just think I’m trying to stay enormous forever).
The ironic part here is that on a normal basis, I actually eat in a fairly healthy way. I eat more fruits and vegetables than pretty much anyone I know, I make sure to avoid most of the classic “bad for you” foods on a regular basis, and I don’t eat ridiculous portions of anything. This might be why everything’s even more frustrating for me than it feels like it “should” be.
How many times do you see people saying “just eat right and get a little exercise in, and the weight will fall off”? It’s sad that people want to assume it’s just that simple – for some of us, it’s not. I’ll likely add this to the list of “things to talk about when I visit a doctor”, since I’m starting to wonder once again if it’s not something else going on inside me that’s getting in my way.
Do you ever have days where you just feel like giving up and hiding for a while, or am I completely unusual?