OMG. I have so much to tell you. Last week I was diagnosed with Severe Depression. Finally an answer to my broken spirit!!
Strange as it seems, I was actually happy and relieved to find out I am experiencing severe depression. At least I know what needs to be fixed. And that’s a good thing!
You have no idea how relieved I was. I mean, really. I was going absolutely crazy (pause. I am a bit crazy—with depression) trying to figure out why I cry every morning before I head to work and every evening as soon as I leave the office. During the work day I’m irritable, cranky, overwhelmed and overstressed.
This is me between the hours of 9 AM and 5 PM!
That all feeds into my deep-rooted feelings of being a failure. But wait! There’s so much more that can’t even broach for now—that will all come in a future blog post.
At times, Dwight Schrute and I are on the same wavelength. My failures are epic failures!
And people experiencing depression can actually be happy while they are miserable. And that’s for the future post as well.
Emotional peaks and valleys come and go but overall, you can be happy and depressed at the same time. It’s complicated!
But……………. this depression has caused me to turn to food for comfort. Ever since my brother, Pete, passed, I’ve been sinking. He passed in November of 2019 and the circumstances were just so horrible. He was on vacation. The beginning of November. His body couldn’t be brought home until December. So, we had to continue with life as “normal” (and I use that term lightly) as possible. My husband and I spent Thanksgiving in Paris, and I can attest, it wasn’t the most glorious trip we’ve ever had. The dark cloud had planted itself above my fake hair and was ready to create a fog that went straight into my spirit.
And as much as I love Paris, that last trip had a dark cloud over me.
Suffice it to say that the 2019 Christmas Holidays were not as festive as they could have been. Then in January Covid-19 came to be. And eight weeks later we were in a lockdown. And we all know how the next year and change went.
And we masked up over a year. And I still carry a mask in my car and one in my purse–even though I’ve been double-vaxed!
So, let’s get back to my turning to food for comfort. While in Paris, I ate. A lot. But a lot of good food. I enjoyed my meals but didn’t stray too far.
I especially loved the bone marrow among other things.
Christmas did me in. The baking. The cooking. The sampling. Shoving baked goods and anything else in my mouth to feel better was my ultimate goal. Some drink alcohol. Others grab for weed. And those who are motivated, work out. I eat and laze around the house like Jabba the Hut!
Yum yum! Ten for me, one for you!
After a bad day at work (Monday through Friday) I would come home and literally pick and graze before and after dinner. My pants got tight. My thighs grew somewhat thunderous. My double chin became quadruplets. My upper arms could be used as mudflaps on a huge truck. You get the visual?
I couldn’t even get this far because my pants wouldn’t go past my thighs!
I ate more. The more depressed and miserable I became, the more I shoved food into my mouth like a Hoover. Then my pants stopped fitting altogether. I purchased shapewear. But it was too effing uncomfortable and I felt as though I was a sausage in a casing. So, I took the shapewear off and just ate some sausage instead!
Why have a piece of cheese when you can have the entire block? Why have a slice of cake when you can eat the entire three layers? Why have a tiny bit of the appetizer when you can just eat it all?
I managed to lose about 9 pounds doing a calorie count, but I suck at math and those pounds returned. Oh, what a vicious cycle. And oh, how I was just destroying myself both emotionally and physically.
And when I returned home from work last Wednesday night, I had a bit of an awakening. I arrived home looking a wreck. The mascara streaked into dark gray lines down my face because they got stuck in the river of tears. My nose was running like a tap. My wig was crooked. My unshaven legs were pinching me. My brows were smeared. I looked like hell. I’m not kidding either. I ran upstairs to get changed. I whipped my clothing and underwear off and caught a glimpse of my naked body in the full-length mirror. My gut was akin to that of a five-month’s pregnant woman. My titties were larger and saggy. And although I clearly recognized the reflection and owned it, I didn’t recognize me. The woman in the mirror wasn’t who I used to be. And I wanted the old me back.
Honestly, I was better off naked because I felt like a stuffed sausage with clothing on!
So, I did a thing. I ran naked into the bathroom and stepped upon the scale. The scale which I have been avoiding for way too long. And then I looked at the number. At 165, I’ve been heavier. And even at a heavier weight, my body was in better shape because I moved. I’m telling you. This job that I have is killing me. I sit on a chair. In a cubicle. All day long. All. Day. Long. By the time I get home I’m too tired to even function.
But that night—it was different. I decided to do something. I threw an old nighty over my billowing pillow of a body, ran downstairs and went to re-join Weight Watchers. It’s the only program that seems to work for me. Counting calories didn’t. Giving up bread and pasta didn’t work either—I just overate shit that wasn’t pasta or bread!
I can do this. I can give up bread or most likely just eat small portions and not the entire loaf!
And I funny thing happened when I went to sign up again. I didn’t have to rejoin. All I had to do was reactivate my account because I’m a Lifetime Member. And I wasn’t too far off my first goal so it was all good.
My WW App welcomed me back with new updates!
The Prodigal Glutton was welcomed back in the best possible way!
Hey. Let’s give this parable a modern twist by explaining the Prodigal Glutton!
My account was untouched for well…almost two years. And upon returning, I wasn’t judged. Nor was I shamed. And certainly, wasn’t looked down upon. What I did conclude is that I am responsible for my body. It’s difficult. Very difficult because when depression sets in or any emotional setback, things are easier said than done. But, I’m a fighter.
And fight I do. No matter how down I feel, it’s important for me to get dressed nicely for work and put a bit of makeup on! It’s my way to fight the battle!
My phone is my guide this time. And I’m preparing myself, or rather organizing myself to be set up for success! I purchased a scale…
I bought a WW scale to weigh my protein and other food items!
And even purchased a little box of 2-point snacks. Here’s the thing about the snacks. On Friday, Saturday and Sunday, The Frenchman and I enjoy aperitifs before dinner. With that comes a little appetizer—I’ve been known to down a family sized bag of tortilla chips. These little bags will help set me straight.
I bought a box of these protein puffs. Two points a bag. It might seem silly but these little portions will keep my gluttonous desires at bay. I had some of these WW snacks at my sister’s and they are quite good!
So yeah. It has been a week, I weighed myself this evening when I returned from work and I’m down five pounds. At a weight of 160, there’s twenty pounds of love that needs to be spread somewhere else!
I’m also wearing more “weight-loss-friendly” summer clothing. Trust me, there’s a whole bunch of shift dresses that don’t fit presently. Instead, I’ve opted for jersey swing dresses and looser dresses that I’ve had through thicker and thinner and looser but not sloppy dresses. Pants can wait till the fall.
And this skirt by the brand Ripskirt is a wonderful asset to the weight loss journey because the closures are velcro. The waist can be made smaller as I lose!
Inasmuch as I’ve put on weight, I’m not giving up wearing a bathing suit either. Trust me, when it’s hot out, it’s hot and the beach offers relief. It doesn’t matter if I appear to be a beached whale, I am squeezing into a swimsuit!
I’m still wearing the swimsuit. Trust me this pic looks good due to the lighting and angle.
Anyway, I want to return to my blog on a regular basis too. It’s been very difficult to write. The ideas are there but when I arrive home from work I’m literally spent. I honestly cannot function. However, I’m trying my best to put any emotional issues aside and work them out. In the meantime, It’s baby steps. I want my clothes to fit again and I want to return to my productive writing!
Actually, this blog is my baby. Over six years I may not have a large following but those who have been within this wonderful circle of friends, have been along while I shared everything from life with a Frenchman, to the careers of my children, from weddings to funerals. From travels and fun times. To makeup, skincare and style. It’s always a good time. And I want so desperately to return to that. And I will!
I gotta get back on my blog goals!
Tell me, have you put weight on during the pandemic? How are you handling it? Have you lost weight? Has the lockdown spun you into a depressed state? We need to discuss this! So let’s begin!