I am journaling my emotions. Yay for me. I was just sitting in the kitchen while my daughter was watching a show and she was playing with a fidget device that was making a noise that I realized was slowly driving me batty. Once I realized what the sound was, I couldn't unhear it and I couldn't get rid of the tension in my gut. I was supposed to be relaxing while doing a puzzle, but I was getting more and more worked up. So I have retreated to the bedroom. I'm hoping that the more time I spend not drinking and eating relatively healthy and exercising the more these things won't bother me. Plus journaling. I hope so. I did hike yesterday. And play with kids.
Ok, the last time I published a post on this blog was literally exactly two years ago today. Something about this time of year must get to me. So what has happened the last two years? Well, lifewise, just life. Nothing exciting, nothing earth shattering. Just life. Mental healthwise? Bad. An endless circling the drain depression that has kept me at the same weight and probably about the same fitness level for the past two years. My default is now lying in bed when no one else is in the house. I am bed rotting. I am a fat, depressed, bed-rotting 46 year old who is having trouble seeing the point of anything. Nothing feels worth the effort. I don't want to do anything. And I am having trouble getting up the energy (mental or otherwise) to get healthy because what's the point? I don't want to extend this pain any longer than I have to. I think this is what those in the know call suicidal ideation. I'm not actually suicidal. I just don't see the point in living and jus...
Comments
Post a Comment