The new look – it’s all Rob. I don’t know how to deal with anything more complicated than putting up a blog post. So when I say “Oh I would like to change what my blog looks like” that is a hint for Rob to send me to the WordPress website (or wherever his little heart desires), and for me to pick one out. Beyond that, he does the theme changing and the plugin magic. It’s kind of like he’s my sugar daddy. He hands me the credit card, sends me out shopping, and he does the work to pay the bills.
When I am depressed – like deeply, profoundly sad, wanting-to-curl-up-in-bed-forever sad- I do one of two things. I eat until I’m ready to barf, and then I eat some more, or, conversely, I stop eating altogether. Sadly for my BMI, which has been begging me to find the best fat burner for years now, I’ve been living the former for the past week and a half. Rob’s birthday cake is half gone and it only got cut into last night (four-layer devil’s food with cherry filling and cream cheese icing? Yes please). I had a chocolate bar and two eggs for breakfast this morning.
I’ve set myself an ultimatum. I will give myself until this Friday to wallow, and then that’s enough. Yes, I will still be sad, and yes I will still probably weep and wail here on the blog (sorry) (and how come so many words for being sad start with w? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that before) but I will stop with the not taking care of my body. I haven’t been walking in more than two weeks. I’ve been eating like a beast. I’m already fat for reasons beyond my control. I don’t need to add to that.
My friend wants to come over this evening to watch Sunday’s episode of True Blood. I just kind of want to hide under the house and be antisocial, but there will be none of that. Forcing myself to act happy might bring on some actual happiness.
Add to that the fact that I hate myself when I’m like this and hopefully things around here will start looking less maudlin in a few days.
(PS – a mosquito is in our house. It is buzzing around Sprocket. He is trying to catch it – good luck small dog! It’s hilarious.)
I wish I had some kind of amazing words that could, somehow, make you feel better but I got nothin’ other than… I’m thinkin’ of you.
And! Four-layer devil’s food with cherry filling and cream cheese icing?
Oh. Sorry. Was I drooling on your nice new theme? Let me clean that up for ya’…
“Forcing myself to act happy might bring on some actual happiness.” ‘Fake it till you make it’ has worked well for me in many ways. I have had to kick myself in the ass pretty much daily to lose the weight I’ve lost. But overall, I feel happier – especially at moments like last night, when I tried on a garment which looked hellish on me early this spring and now fits like a charm. I don’t always feel chipper, but the walking helps clear my head. So I wish you a little bit of kick-ass and please know I, too, am thinking about you and have hurt so badly for you that I couldn’t even hardly write a comment until today.