Emotional eating has struck again. In the hospital I had no choice of when I ate, we got three meals and a snack before bedtime meds so we would have something on our stomachs. Now though... Yesterday I can't even tell you what all I ate. Not good. I have to get a handle on this today and from now on. I don't want to gain back all of the weight that I lost!! I'm happy in my size 18 jeans and I want that number to shrink, not grow!!
I slept in the bean bag again last night. DH came and covered me up when he came to bed, with an oversized blanket so I would be totally covered. Once you figure out how to lay on it without killing your hips, it's actually quite comfy. I did wake once from a nightmare with anxiety, ate something and went back to bed. There I go with the emotional eating again. But staying upright in the bean bag means I didn't cough as much, so it was good. I'd much rather be in bed, but till this head cold is gone, I think I'll be in the bean bag.
Today I'm going to take it slow. I am still feeling fragile and shaky. I wish I would go back to normal, or what I consider normal for me. But I still feel as though I might break. I did a lot of thinking in the hospital and up till now. I still can't believe I got to the state I was in. I didn't communicate with anyone how badly I was doing until it was almost too late. I scared myself. I'm so glad I had made the GoFundMe page the day before, it is what saved my life. I bumped the mouse and when the screen came on, it was on my GoFundMe page (PTSD Service Dog For Karri) and read it. It made me think past my own nose and realized that I did have hope in my future. Hope in the form of a service dog. Which made me think of my family and made me put down the pill bottles. My future service dog saved my life that night and I have not even met her yet. Her name will be Hope (name recommended by a SP friend) because that is what she has given me even though she is not yet here with me.
Why am I sharing this so openly? Because I'm tired of hiding what is happening with me. When I started that GoFundMe page and shared it on FB, it was like me coming out and saying, I suffer from this and this is who I am, I cannot hide in the shadows any more. This is me. This is why I'm so quiet. This is why I dodge conversations. This is why when you say hello to me, I can't think of what to say in response. I'm not antisocial. I just have anxiety. It was my way of asking for help when I did not know how to do so because I was a$$ deep in alligators and sinking fast. I eventually asked for help, but it was almost too late. I don't ever want to get that bad again. I don't ever want to feel like I can't ask for help again. That was all me, my DH is always there for me, but depression lies and I believed that I would only be a burden if I asked for help. Till that night that I scared myself so bad, when help was offered the next day, I took it.
I'm off to start my day. I'll work out around lunch time, because working out is one of my coping skills. It helps me to feel better. I start back my normal routine today, after taking the rest of last week to relax and recuperate. I looking forward to it and nervous all at the same time. Will I be able to handle the stresses of my usual daily life? Will I be able to handle not having DH here and go about my normal routine? Like I said, I'm still very fragile and shaky feeling. I'll write tomorrow about how my day today went.
Thank you so much for sticking around even though I'm writing about not the happiest of subjects.
Hope you have a wonderful Monday!!