I woke up this morning just filled with anger and hatred. I literally woke up this morning and the very first word out of my mouth was "Fuck!" I was awakened just before my alarm clock went off this morning by the stupid cat walking around on top of my legs. Then my alarm went off at 4:38am, as I set it to go off sometime between 4:30 and 5am so I could get up and work out before work this morning.
I laid in bed until about 5, trying to decide whether or not to go back to sleep until 6:30 or 7, but my brain was already on hyper-drive and so I decided to get up and at least go out to the living room and then decide between laying on the couch and watching Friends or working out.
I eventually decided to do my yoga video and Jillian Michaels' 30 day shred video, for the third day in a row. I thought about doing them when I got home from work, but when I really couldn't turn my brain off, I decided that at least when I'm working out, I'm focusing so hard on my breathing and my movements and also trying not to die, but at least I'm not thinking about the other stuff that consumes my entire brain when I feel like this. Also, on Sunday, Ethan and I did both the yoga video and the shred and my attitude was fantastic afterwards. Endorphins, I suppose. I thought that if anything, maybe working out this morning would help change my attitude. The fact that I had this kind of mindset at all is astounding.
So I did the two stupid workouts and it took a stupid hour, and I didn't even burn very many stupid calories. I had to stop a couple of times during the shred video to cry because I was so frustrated because my stupid knees hurt so damn bad. My doc says that I have this stupid thing called Chondromalacia that makes my knees crack and hurt a lot when I do anything knee-related, e.g. walk, squat, lunge, sit, walk up stairs, walk down stairs, get up from a sitting position, etc.
I tried to just work through the pain and not think about it too much, but my frustration level peaked right after I got done and I just had to sit and cry for a few minutes.
I hate so much of myself right now. I hate that I feel so fat and flabby. I hate that even though I'm trying to do something about it, I have obstacles in the way. I hate that I'm reminded infinite times throughout the day how much I hate my body when it gets in my way. I hate that my sense of smell is so sensitive and that the shirt I'm wearing today smells like cat litter box because we have to keep the damn thing in the closet because there's really no other place to put it. I hate that I have been irritable and moody and angry most of the time the last few weeks. I hate that I take out my irritability and anger on Ethan and pick fights with him and make him feel bad for things he may or may not do for me.
This morning, for the first time in forever, I thought about suicide. I know I'm not supposed to even give that minute consideration, but I feel so incredibly hopeless and perpetually unhappy that I can't think of anything else to do. I'm trying so SO hard to do things right in my life - do the things that people without mental illness do that make them happy - and they're not working. I don't drink alcohol much anymore, which in and of itself is miraculous. I don't take any drugs at all, not that I really did before. I am eating more healthy than I was before (including cutting out a shitload of carbs which studies have shown people with depression actually crave). I'm working out. I'm getting enough sleep. I'm even trying essential oils. Short of going back on antidepressants, I don't know what the hell to do. And I really, REALLY don't want to go back on antidepressants because I never want to have to go through that withdrawal ever, ever again.
I have so many debts that it is overwhelming and I don't know how to work enough to pay them off. I grab extra hours at work here and there, and that helps, but I'm accruing interest on my CU debt at an astonishing rate and the payments I can make hardly cover the interest. I have student loans that are going on 90 days late, but I don't make enough to afford even the minimum payments.
I need to see an orthopedic doctor about my knees, but I am on Medicaid, and apparently, there are no orthopedic doctors in the state of Colorado that accept Medicaid. Even the ones on the fricking website that are "providers" don't accept it. I made some phone calls.
I get so angry when I am in the car because other drivers don't seem to pay enough attention to the other cars around them. Is it so difficult to drive a damn car - a one ton hunk of metal with wheels as it moves through time and space - and focus solely on that one thing? My impatience when I'm driving is making me become a terrible, road-rage filled creature that thinks the absolute worst of every other driver on the road.
I feel so hopeless and helpless and overwhelmed that I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I am trying so fucking hard to do what I need to do to be healthy and to feel good, and it's not fucking working. Obviously suicide is a terrible thing to contemplate and I really don't want to go in that direction because it would hurt so many people that care about me. I guess my only real option at this point is to see a doc and go through the process of getting back on antidepressants and having to deal with all the shit side-effects like weight gain and inability to have an orgasm.
I feel nothing but despair right now.
***Edit: I almost titled this one "Another Damn Tuesday," with this explanation in the body of the post - I hate Tuesdays, because it seems like whenever I'm having a bad day, I realize it's a Tuesday. Mondays aren't so bad because you're still riding the high and/or relaxation from the weekend. Wednesday you're halfway through the week and you can sort of see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thursday might as well be named pre-Friday because that's what it is, and Friday is self-explanatory. Tuesdays are just plain awful. Then I found this, published today:
I laid in bed until about 5, trying to decide whether or not to go back to sleep until 6:30 or 7, but my brain was already on hyper-drive and so I decided to get up and at least go out to the living room and then decide between laying on the couch and watching Friends or working out.
I eventually decided to do my yoga video and Jillian Michaels' 30 day shred video, for the third day in a row. I thought about doing them when I got home from work, but when I really couldn't turn my brain off, I decided that at least when I'm working out, I'm focusing so hard on my breathing and my movements and also trying not to die, but at least I'm not thinking about the other stuff that consumes my entire brain when I feel like this. Also, on Sunday, Ethan and I did both the yoga video and the shred and my attitude was fantastic afterwards. Endorphins, I suppose. I thought that if anything, maybe working out this morning would help change my attitude. The fact that I had this kind of mindset at all is astounding.
So I did the two stupid workouts and it took a stupid hour, and I didn't even burn very many stupid calories. I had to stop a couple of times during the shred video to cry because I was so frustrated because my stupid knees hurt so damn bad. My doc says that I have this stupid thing called Chondromalacia that makes my knees crack and hurt a lot when I do anything knee-related, e.g. walk, squat, lunge, sit, walk up stairs, walk down stairs, get up from a sitting position, etc.
I tried to just work through the pain and not think about it too much, but my frustration level peaked right after I got done and I just had to sit and cry for a few minutes.
I hate so much of myself right now. I hate that I feel so fat and flabby. I hate that even though I'm trying to do something about it, I have obstacles in the way. I hate that I'm reminded infinite times throughout the day how much I hate my body when it gets in my way. I hate that my sense of smell is so sensitive and that the shirt I'm wearing today smells like cat litter box because we have to keep the damn thing in the closet because there's really no other place to put it. I hate that I have been irritable and moody and angry most of the time the last few weeks. I hate that I take out my irritability and anger on Ethan and pick fights with him and make him feel bad for things he may or may not do for me.
This morning, for the first time in forever, I thought about suicide. I know I'm not supposed to even give that minute consideration, but I feel so incredibly hopeless and perpetually unhappy that I can't think of anything else to do. I'm trying so SO hard to do things right in my life - do the things that people without mental illness do that make them happy - and they're not working. I don't drink alcohol much anymore, which in and of itself is miraculous. I don't take any drugs at all, not that I really did before. I am eating more healthy than I was before (including cutting out a shitload of carbs which studies have shown people with depression actually crave). I'm working out. I'm getting enough sleep. I'm even trying essential oils. Short of going back on antidepressants, I don't know what the hell to do. And I really, REALLY don't want to go back on antidepressants because I never want to have to go through that withdrawal ever, ever again.
I have so many debts that it is overwhelming and I don't know how to work enough to pay them off. I grab extra hours at work here and there, and that helps, but I'm accruing interest on my CU debt at an astonishing rate and the payments I can make hardly cover the interest. I have student loans that are going on 90 days late, but I don't make enough to afford even the minimum payments.
I need to see an orthopedic doctor about my knees, but I am on Medicaid, and apparently, there are no orthopedic doctors in the state of Colorado that accept Medicaid. Even the ones on the fricking website that are "providers" don't accept it. I made some phone calls.
I get so angry when I am in the car because other drivers don't seem to pay enough attention to the other cars around them. Is it so difficult to drive a damn car - a one ton hunk of metal with wheels as it moves through time and space - and focus solely on that one thing? My impatience when I'm driving is making me become a terrible, road-rage filled creature that thinks the absolute worst of every other driver on the road.
I feel so hopeless and helpless and overwhelmed that I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I am trying so fucking hard to do what I need to do to be healthy and to feel good, and it's not fucking working. Obviously suicide is a terrible thing to contemplate and I really don't want to go in that direction because it would hurt so many people that care about me. I guess my only real option at this point is to see a doc and go through the process of getting back on antidepressants and having to deal with all the shit side-effects like weight gain and inability to have an orgasm.
***Edit: I almost titled this one "Another Damn Tuesday," with this explanation in the body of the post - I hate Tuesdays, because it seems like whenever I'm having a bad day, I realize it's a Tuesday. Mondays aren't so bad because you're still riding the high and/or relaxation from the weekend. Wednesday you're halfway through the week and you can sort of see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thursday might as well be named pre-Friday because that's what it is, and Friday is self-explanatory. Tuesdays are just plain awful. Then I found this, published today:
