I have two main battles in my life right now. The first one has been a losing battle since I was 12. What is it? In a word - WEIGHT. As of the writing of this post, my body weighs 341 pounds. Wow. I really don't like that number when its written down. My body weighs 200 pounds more than it should. No wonder everything always hurts.
The second battle that is raging in my downward spiraling life is DEPRESSION. I can barely handle the things that come my way in my every day life. Right now, my house is so dirty that I am only enduring the aweful smell coming from my kitchen because I don't have the energy or desire to get up and take out the trash. This afternoon I opened my fridge and it smelled so bad that I almost gagged. I took out everything I could see that I thought might be smelling it up, so now whatever that was is sitting in my kitchen garbage, wafting into my nostrils in the living room. Perhaps I'll post a picture of the current state of my kitchen just to show how badly I am really feeling. If there is one room in my house that I hate having messy, it's my kitchen, so it is a telling sign of my mental state when all the dishes I own are spilling over the sink onto the counters.
Today I went to an appointment with a new doctor whom I have been waiting for over a month to see, only to find out that she called in sick today and I can't get another appointment until the middle of April. I walked out of the office in tears, and by the time I was a block down the street, I was crying almost hysterically. I came home, laid on my bed, and sobbed. This week has been super hard not only because of the depression but also because my back has been hurting. I don't know how much more I can take. It's hard enough being depressed when I don't have any physical ailments.
There have been a couple times this week when I was SO tired that I actually felt sick to my stomach. Depression rears it's head in many different ways, but fatigue is a big one for me. Of course, my body also carries an extra 200 pounds with it everywhere it goes, so who's to say that my fatigue doesn't have something to do with that too.
Unfortunately, I think my two biggest battles feed off of each other. It's usually more difficult to control what I eat when I am not feeling happy, and it's equally difficult to be happy when my body weight keeps going up. Depression sucks! I think often of death and dying. I wish that I could just stop the pain. Stop the misery. I live a block away from the train tracks and that is always in the back of my mind as my final way out. I would rather just go to sleep and never wake up. I've learned over the years that it takes a lot of guts to actually knock ones self off. I've heard it said that suicide is the cowards way out, but anyone who has ever toyed with the idea knows that it is a very scary alternative to living out your life. I've been in high rise buildings contemplating the possibility of jumping, and I can say that it is a very scary thought. I think often of walking down the block and jumping in front of that train. What if it doesn't kill me? What if I am merely crippled for life? Would my weight buffer the impact enough to render me incapacitated but not dead? I've never really thought of offing myself with a gun because I wouldn't have the slightest clue how to go about getting one. ...No, suicide is a scary thing. There doesn't seem to be an easy way to do it. You hear stories of people who take pills and never wake up, but you also hear stories of people who take pills, wake up, and spend the remainder of their lives as vegetables. Not for me, thank you. If I ever do decide to do it, I will do it "right." End it. Get it over with. Finito!
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