Right now I’m beating myself up.
I’m fighting the tail end of some stomach ick but also realizing that it’s hard to tell the point where physical illness ends and depression begins.
Excuses are easy and being sick makes a really good excuse to sleep away 24 hours. Sleeping away 24 hours for the second day in a row looks a lot like depression.
I’ve gained back enough weight that I can feel it in my skin and I can feel it in my clothes and I can feel it in my joints, but I’m afraid to get on that scale because I don’t want to know the numbers.
I start physical therapy on Monday because my back and my knees hurt so bad that it’s making working out and even walking difficult again and I know it’s because spending the last 6 months fighting my mental health has let my physical health fall apart so badly that I’m falling back into old habits.
I’m stuck spinning wheels and I see it happening, entire days just lost and it’s great that I’m not suicidal but is it really better when I’m not fighting to live anymore?
Excuses come so easily right now.
And I’m beating myself up for it but I’m not really sure how to push past it.
I don’t want to go back to who I was and I’m starting to see her in the mirror again. I’m starting to feel her in my bones again. I may not be trying to kill myself but I’m slowly dying again and I can’t find the will to turn it around again.
I know where this leads.