What’s going on?
My stomach spills over my shorts. My thighs represent cottage cheese. My upper arms are soft and weak. My cheeks are plump. My hips are gross. I am flabby and lazy and gross.
Somehow that has quickly turned into I am not worthy of life.
This morning I was great. I did a new and brave thing which gave me motivation and inspiration. I felt supported by my dietitian at my appointment with her. I really believed this day was going to be a happy one.
This afternoon I felt supported by God. Or rather, that’s the direction I took myself in when my morning coffee wore off and exhaustion from sleep deprivation began to kick in. My thought process turned on me but I found some peace in turning to prayer.
But as the afternoon carried on I could feel myself falling apart and now I am in this space where I am reduced to lard, and no one loves lard, not even God.
I can no longer talk back to depression. It just enters and takes over. I want out.