All the little things keep building up. I don't know quite how to explain it. The depression/anxiety/PTSD monster is growing daily, and I'm running out of ways to cope. So I cut back a little.
Last Tuesday, I was a wreck by the time I left the GP, and had a few Black Russians, reaching 1,270 cal.
On Wednesday I met 1,180, hoping the 100-calorie reduction would sate the urges, at least for a little while.
By Thursday, everything came tumbling down, and my intake's been between 500-800 since.
I was dreading seeing the dietician. I hate having to face her and say I'm struggling. I feel like I shouldn't see her at all unless I actively want to move forward, otherwise it seems like a waste. But I can't bear the thought of not having her appointments to break up the week, to remind me I'm living in the real world. Thankfully, she's been patient and kind enough to put up with me for nearly two years now.
She asked what's changed to make me lower my intake. Friday night, mum asked the same. I couldn't give a clear answer. There is no clear answer. There was no one definitive trigger, no distinct turning point. I told them both the same things.
"It's just... everything."
"All the little things keep building and building."
"Everything's too much."
It's been lurking for a while, but I can't fight it anymore. I'm not coping. I want to lie down and wave a white flag. I want to be numb. I want to disappear. It feels silly that I can't pinpoint exactly why or what changed. It's just everything, and I can't take it.
The dietician wants me to try for an Ensure every second day, so I don't lose my ability to drink them, but I don't know if I can do it. I'll be having a glass or two of wine tonight, which seems to be a Tuesday routine, if that counts, but beyond that I really don't know.
So it hasn't been a great week. I haven't been sewing. Haven't been cooking. My smoking's creeping back up and over the 40-a-day mark. Mum tried to get me out of the house for coffee on Sunday, but it was too much. Next year, I think I'll set a goal to try going out once a month.
Apologies for the negativity lately, but at the moment I just can't see past the fog.
Christmas is only a week away, and I don't want it to get here. I haven't finished gift shopping. I haven't even planned what I'm cooking. I don't feel festive or joyful. It doesn't feel right. I'm not ready. Somehow, it doesn't feel like the end of the year at all.
I am sad.
I am tired.
I am hurting.
I am feeling too much.