The last month or so I have written post after post in my head. Unfortunately I broke my wrist in two places in mid/late January so writing in my head is about how far they’ve got. I am finding it hard to do much typing with one hand, and I’m sore and tired a lot during the week after having been at work during the day.

This month has had it’s ups and downs. The new kitten is a perfect little ball of sweetness and has brought much joy to my life. He’s very cuddly and loving which is just what I’ve needed. The broken wrist has been quite a down and I’ve found it really difficult to cope with doing ordinary things like laundry, cooking and dishes. Thankfully Miss G (age 11) has done a lot of cooking but she’s not here 2 to 3 nights a week so I’ve been relying on takeaways, which has not been good for my bank account or my waist line.

I had been much more on track with my eating towards the end of last year. I managed to get in the right frame of mind and lose 21kg on optifast in 12 weeks September – December. Things slippped over Christmas and school holidays but I was getting back on track, and then i broke my wrist. My eating has completely fallen apart again, I’m bingeing on junk food like I used to and things feel out of control. That has a lot to do with my state of mind at the moment as much of the time I can recognise that I don’t even like or am not getting enjoyment out of what I’m eating but I’m doing it anyway.

In the past I’ve used being fat like a shield so I always have an excuse to not put myself out there or try. I also don’t like myself so it’s like a punishment as well, feeding myself stuff that I know makes me feel physically yuck, lets me blame myself for doing the “wrong thing” and has the effect of making me fat so I can push people away and have an excuse if they don’t like me.

At the moment I’m struggling with depressive thoughts and the eating is part of the hatred I feel for myself. I am having a lot of suicidal thoughts and these always come up to offer me a way out when things are feeling particularly bleak. I walked up some hills at our local regional park today and when I got to the top, instead of admiring the view I was contemplating throwing myself off the edge. Not that it would have been much of a drop, not enough to die at any rate, though more than enough to probably break both my ankles and sustain quite a lot of brusing.

It’s not the sort of thought normal people have, and it’s really hard to explain as I know I scare people when I start talking about these things. I have been hallucinating bodies again in the last few days (this is another one of my warning signs) and people really look at you strangely if you bring that up! How can you tell someone that when you feel like I do every time you get in your car you think about what it’s like to die of carbon monoxide poisioning? And that I know I can’t have alcohol at the moment because it lowers my defenses against doing something stupid and that only makes me want it more.

I am taking my normal preventive measures, not that I want to. I feel an odd lethargy about doing anything but once I get past the procrastination I do enjoy some things (skating, art, exercise). But as soon as I stop I feel terrible again. Its almost always worse afterwards even though in the moment I felt better. I’m not sure why that is. I kind of picture it like the dark cloud lifting momentarily and then descending again, once it does things feel darker than before.

I try not to think of the long term. Living with persistent treatment resistant depression means it comes back regularly and some bouts are worse than others. Sometimes its a flat patch for a few weeks, sometimes I’m in a hole for a few months. My breakdown 6 years ago brought me to my knees for a very long time. If I thought about it too much I might not want to go on trying, knowing the next bout is never far away. I don’t truly want to die, I just hate feeling like this.

Till next time.

Ka Kite