"I don't see any reason to. I don't have anything to say. My intake's been dropping, and I don't really want to be weighed, so I don't see the point."
I'm appointment-free this week. The GP appointment for tomorrow was cancelled too. At the moment I'm struggling to drag myself out of my armchair, let alone the house.
I didn't eat enough over the weekend. 50g of carbs each day, when I know I need 100g to stay stable. Monday was a battle to get my blood sugars back up, though I made it to 900 calories. Yesterday I cried through lunch, through the afternoon, again skipping two meals. It's becoming a pattern that I only eat three, maybe four, of my five planned meals. The struggle is getting harder. My daily calorie intake's been between 400-700, depending on my mood. It's proportional. The worse I feel, the less I eat.
There's also been an interesting development to my health over the last several days... My tailbone is killing me. Every time I cough, it feels like I'm being shot/kicked in the damn coccyx. An army of paracetamol, codeine, and ibuprofen is doing bugger all to help the pain. Maybe I've developed a stress fracture from sitting on my butt all day? Either way, it looks like I'll be back at the GP sooner rather than later.
I keep saying to mum that I know this feeling passes, the depression. But right now, everything feels so hopeless, I can't see through the fog. My days feel endless and empty, trapped in my head with my thoughts. Sadly, knowing that the depression will eventually lift doesn't make it lift. At the moment I just have to wait it out, and try to make it through each day, one moment at a time.