....you know, the one about depression where it talks about how it affects you physically and mentally and affects EVERYTHING in your life. Yea, that one. That's been me for many, many months. I tried the Prozac and got worse! I was more depressed; bad, bad, bad. Then I went off the Prozac; still depressed. I didn't want to go anywhere, I didn't want to do anything, I wanted to sleep all the time and sometimes I did. I was not a good mom, wife, me. I started to think that my friends and family would be better off without me. Bad. How did I get through my days? I ate. I ate every comfort food known to man and it made me feel better but guilty. I felt better because food offers me comfort, it always has. Guilty because I knew I was not doing the right thing. I had come so far in my weight loss journey and now was throwing it all out the window. Then the guilt went away because I didn't care. I knew what I was doing to myself and I didn't care. So what if I gained weight back? So what if it meant I was shaving years off my life? I didn't care. Did I mention things were bad?
Through all of this there were two things that got me out of bed every day and kept me from following through on dark thoughts. Big Guy and Little Guy. They are my world, my everything. I literally took every breath for them. They deserve a good mom and they deserve a good childhood and I knew I was messing that up. Coming from a not so great childhood I have vowed to be better, be more for them and I was failing but fighting.
I'm not sure many people realized how bad things were. If there's one thing I am good at, it's putting on a happy face. I'm a good actress. I think friends knew I was depressed but not how badly. I didn't feel like I could talk to anyone about the things I was thinking. I was desperately afraid someone would find out and I'd end up in a psych ward for a few days. Sometimes I longed for that to happen but couldn't bear the thought of being away from my boys.
Then, on top of the depression my anxiety disorder reared it's ugly head again. I worried about everything, all the time. Anxious doesn't even begin to describe it. I couldn't sleep at night and would stay up stressing out about everything. Most night I slept little more than 2 hours. And, while I was up at night, I ate. My anxiety disorder sucks. I worry about everything and sometimes visualize a situation going horribly wrong. One day I had a friend I hadn't seen in years come over to my house. It was great to see her again and have company. At one point she laid her little boy on the floor to change his diaper and I had to step over him to get to the kitchen. In my head I could see myself miscalculating and stepping on his head. I could hear the scream and see the indentation in his skull. It sucks, it gives me panic attacks, it prevents me from doing things.
So about a month ago I had to meet my new PCP. My long time physician and friend left her practice and I was forced to find someone new. I was nervous. I met my her and loved her! Yay! I told her the anxiety was back and I had to fill out some questionnaires about how I was feeling and then she gave me a prescription for Zoloft. I used to take Zoloft and I loved it. I was hopeful. I don't know how to explain what it's like to feel your life coming back to you in bits and pieces. I found myself wanting to take the kids to the library, wanting to go outside with them to play, wanting to get out of bed in the morning. I am in no way 100% better yet. I know that. I think it will take a long time to be 100%. For now I am happy with my progress. I am happy that I was able to ask for help. I am happy that I can't even fathom thinking about not being around.
So on the weight front things are bad. I've failed. I have not worked my band, I have not followed the rules, I have gained a lot of weight back. Part of me is embarrassed and ashamed and part of me says tough sh*t. I did not take my life, I did not leave two little boys without a mom, I stared depression in the face and I fought back.
I know I need to get back to healthier habits and I am slowly. There are still times I find comfort in food and for now I am OK with that. This is one hell of a journey.