You're Invited to a Pity Party
There are certain things I can never say outloud, and so I have to put them somewhere.
I've been kind of depressed lately. Not in a way that makes me stay in bed all day and shun phone calls. I think it's a combination of a lot of things. I still go out with my friends and laugh and come home feeling high on their silliness. But my day to day environment tends to be a little dark. There's always something related to my grandma and the nursing home (I mean, one day my mom had to go pre-plan her own mother's funeral and the next she had to meet with a lawyer to sort out some stuff with her money). People are always calling with their bad news and then asking my mom about grandma.
Being out of school is taking a toll on me. I relied heavily on that routine. Every day I looked forward to the people. My professors made me feel confident and excited about learning. I felt involved in something important, and like I really fit in on the campus. I was writing all the time. I felt happy, lighter, less likely to get so caught up in the bad stuff.
My exercise routine has all but disappeared. I'm not motivated. Since my work schedule is never the same, I can't stick to any kind of routine and they are days I just don't want to make the effort. I eat healthy for half the day and then come home and binge. I feel myself getting more and more unhealthy - so completely the opposite of who I was at this time last year.
Tomorrow, I realized, is the "anniversary" of when I first made the decision to change the way I live my life. I started exercising and watching what I ate. I amazed myself and felt like I could do anything. I want to get that back. I say that all the time and I always mean in, but it's so much easier said than done.
Sometimes I wish I could just pack a bag and go somewhere, anywhere. I feel like I need to make my own kind of retreat. I'm so sensitive sometimes. I let people get to me. I told my dad I wanted to get a punching bag and some gloves. I need something to do other than taking a walk, and I like Tae Bo. I figure doing some kicks and working my arms would be good. He laughs and says, "You're not hanging a punching bag in the new basement," which isn't even new yet.
Well phooey on him. I need that punching bag, and tomorrow I'm going to call about the ad in the paper. I'll hang it outside if I have to.
I've been kind of depressed lately. Not in a way that makes me stay in bed all day and shun phone calls. I think it's a combination of a lot of things. I still go out with my friends and laugh and come home feeling high on their silliness. But my day to day environment tends to be a little dark. There's always something related to my grandma and the nursing home (I mean, one day my mom had to go pre-plan her own mother's funeral and the next she had to meet with a lawyer to sort out some stuff with her money). People are always calling with their bad news and then asking my mom about grandma.
Being out of school is taking a toll on me. I relied heavily on that routine. Every day I looked forward to the people. My professors made me feel confident and excited about learning. I felt involved in something important, and like I really fit in on the campus. I was writing all the time. I felt happy, lighter, less likely to get so caught up in the bad stuff.
My exercise routine has all but disappeared. I'm not motivated. Since my work schedule is never the same, I can't stick to any kind of routine and they are days I just don't want to make the effort. I eat healthy for half the day and then come home and binge. I feel myself getting more and more unhealthy - so completely the opposite of who I was at this time last year.
Tomorrow, I realized, is the "anniversary" of when I first made the decision to change the way I live my life. I started exercising and watching what I ate. I amazed myself and felt like I could do anything. I want to get that back. I say that all the time and I always mean in, but it's so much easier said than done.
Sometimes I wish I could just pack a bag and go somewhere, anywhere. I feel like I need to make my own kind of retreat. I'm so sensitive sometimes. I let people get to me. I told my dad I wanted to get a punching bag and some gloves. I need something to do other than taking a walk, and I like Tae Bo. I figure doing some kicks and working my arms would be good. He laughs and says, "You're not hanging a punching bag in the new basement," which isn't even new yet.
Well phooey on him. I need that punching bag, and tomorrow I'm going to call about the ad in the paper. I'll hang it outside if I have to.