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Food and Depression.
May. 29th, 2008 06:51 pmI can't seem to get much food down me. It's not like I'm not hungry - I am! Terribly hungry! It's just the depression is so bad at the moment that the sight of rich flavoursome food makes me sick.
And Mum, bless her soul, isn't making it any easier for me. I really don't have the stomach right now for steak and lasagna and rich stuff like that. All I feel like is lettuce, mousse, drinks, fruit, plain rice, that sort of thing. Which is weird, I know, but it's all I feel like I can get down.
And if I do look despairingly at her rich delicious meals, Mum begins the guilt trip. "All I'm trying to do is feed people good food."
I can't stand it. I can't stand letting Mum down. I hate it when she says to me that my problems are stressing her out. She doesn't mean anything BAD by it, she wants to help me but I can see that she just doesn't know what to do.
I have no idea what to do about all of this. The panic and the fear is slowly leaking away, just to leave behind a dark, sludgy depression. Every moment is an effort to remember that I do have support, that there is light and the end of this tunnel of crap, that it's okay to feel sad.
Sometimes I just feel like it's too much to handle. I'm fighting to live, every fucking minute. I'm fighting to solve this problem. At least once a day I break down and cry because it becomes too much for me. But I refuse, absolutely refuse, to lay down and give up.
ETA: OMG Mum made lasagna tonight. I had it cold - IT WAS SO GOOD!!!
And Mum, bless her soul, isn't making it any easier for me. I really don't have the stomach right now for steak and lasagna and rich stuff like that. All I feel like is lettuce, mousse, drinks, fruit, plain rice, that sort of thing. Which is weird, I know, but it's all I feel like I can get down.
And if I do look despairingly at her rich delicious meals, Mum begins the guilt trip. "All I'm trying to do is feed people good food."
I can't stand it. I can't stand letting Mum down. I hate it when she says to me that my problems are stressing her out. She doesn't mean anything BAD by it, she wants to help me but I can see that she just doesn't know what to do.
I have no idea what to do about all of this. The panic and the fear is slowly leaking away, just to leave behind a dark, sludgy depression. Every moment is an effort to remember that I do have support, that there is light and the end of this tunnel of crap, that it's okay to feel sad.
Sometimes I just feel like it's too much to handle. I'm fighting to live, every fucking minute. I'm fighting to solve this problem. At least once a day I break down and cry because it becomes too much for me. But I refuse, absolutely refuse, to lay down and give up.
ETA: OMG Mum made lasagna tonight. I had it cold - IT WAS SO GOOD!!!
