I went from 249 to 252.
And part of me doesn't even care.
I mean, I do. I want to lose. My goals are still downward. But.
I'm just tired right now. Fatigued mentally and physically. It's not depressed feelings it is overwhelmed, sick and tired feelings.
I'm going to vent a little. You can go away if you want. I understand.
I'm tired of doing everything. I've talked to my husband until I'm blue in the face about this, but the stress of handling all the bills, all the questions, answers, scheduling - EVERYTHING is slowly eating away at me killing me. I know why he's happy and carefree and I'm the one suffering from depression.
BECAUSE I HAVE TO PAY THE FREAKING BILLS!!!
It's like eating. You have to do it, so it makes you think about it, face it. You can't just ignore it. That would be too easy.
Each month I get to rub two pennies together to make a dime, rob Peter to pay Paul. That's enough. But beyond that I have to meal plan, shop, feed, thinkthinkthink. I'm fatigued, tired, spent. I do all of the thinking for our family. The disciplining, the planning, the organizing.
It's not fair. There are times I wish my depression would render me debilitated instead of functioning (not really obviously), and I wouldn't have to do it anymore. I feel like everyone thinks I'm strong and capable, so everyone just plants everything on my back, figuring I can hold it up.
I can, visibly. Invisibly, I'm breaking on the inside. Fractured, shattered, tiny fibers bursting and deteriorating. I can feel it - have felt it - over the last few years. It really sucks.
Last weekend we went on a trip, and this weekend we're going on a trip. What frustrates me is when I get asked why I'm so frazzled. My husband packs a bag for the trip. I pack everything else. I plan the food, make sure everyone has everything. He just goes and enjoys the trip.
I want to just go and enjoy a trip, for once in my life. I want to be the person that just packs her stuff and goes. Doesn't cook, prepare, think, clean, prep, check, write lists, shop, plan. Plan what to take with, plan what to leave behind for the family. Worry about our checkbook and what it is costing us.
This all probably makes no sense. But it does to me. It makes sense as to why I'm feeling like I'm feeling right now.
It's an ugly, ugly feeling.
My weight: I really have nothing much to say about that. It's bee a good but crappy week, and I don't suspect this weekend is going to be much better.
I'm waiting on results for my thyroid from the doctor.
I feel exhausted this past week. I've been running, running, running, and I'm just overwhelmed and exhausted. I have a feeling I'm going to have to do a "restart day" next Monday and lose about 10 additional pounds. Which worries me that I'll never get down to where I want to be for my birthday, which makes me feel even more pathetic, which makes me just want to curl up and sleep for about a month or so.
Woe is me. Did you make it this far?