I have general self-loathing and no energy. My body hurts all over.
I am so fucking depressed I could just die. I wish I would. Nothing makes me happy lately except sitting on my couch with my baby. That’s all I want to do. I want to wear raggedy ass pajamas and lay on my couch under a blanket with my space heater on and not move. I want to kiss him and feel his soft hair and smell him and nap when he naps and play and do nothing at all. I want to watch tv and play on my phone and take hot showers and eat junk food and shop online not do fucking anything productive. But my life doesn’t get to look like that. I don’t get those days unless I steal them from someone else and cause them to suffer in my place
Sometimes, when I’m talking to someone else and giving them a pep talk, I will feel a glimmer of hope. But it’s so fleeting lately. It’s like when you wake from a dream and you can’t quite remember what you were just doing. Or like when you try to think of a specific word and the wrong one keeps coming to mind. That’s how I feel - like I should be able to grasp onto some kind of happiness. But I just can’t. It’s right there but out of my reach.
I really thought that my lack of physical activity and fitness was making me as bad as I am, but even when I am active, I still feel like shit. Yeah, my diet contributes. I’m not going to pretend that my binge days are not affecting my mood. And last week I purged way more than I’m even going to acknowledge right now. But I’ve taken a walk daily even though I felt like I was dragging feet made of stone. I’ve cleaned my house even though I feel the urge to stop and sit every 2.5 minutes. I’ve had sex with my husband even when I felt zero sexual urges. I’m doing all the things and I still can’t feel better. I know my health is a huge issue that I need to resolve.
I need meds. My brain tell me every single moment that everyone hates me. My husband, kids, everyone. I'm ugly. I'm stupid. My job sucks. My health sucks. I'm worried about my baby. I feel like all I do is fuck up, and I don't know what to do to stop doing that. I try to cope, and I have panic attacks. I try to breathe, and I feel suffocated.
I have so much to do, and I don't want to do any of it. And I feel insecure about my new hair...