Since Wednesday of this week, I've been feeling a little discouraged along with spikes in my depression and anxiety. Gray winter mornings and coming back to work after an extended weekend probably contributed a lot to my mood, but in spite of the gains I've made, I look at the state of my body, disheartened by how far I still have to go to even get to "average." I made the mistake of weighing myself Wednesday morning and had gone back to a couple of pounds over 250. I'm trying to convince myself that all the walking I did the previous four days had added some muscle.
Even if I do get my body somewhat in shape, I'm still worried over loose skin and the inevitable losing battle with aging, sagging and vanishing hair. I haven't been able to generate the same excitement over the carrot of my trip to Atlanta in April lately and have grave concerns about being ready – that is, being in the physical and financial state I want to be in – in time. I wish I had better coping strategies for keeping my dips into depression and anxiety from spiraling into despair and panic. I've abandoned most of my maladaptive copium – which is a good thing, but I don't really have healthy methods to fall back on. The past several days have seen me backslide in my binge eating habits (resulting in morning stomach aches), which only comes back full circle to self-esteem and body image issues. And no matter what, time continues grinding on. Suddenly it's a bright, new year. Then you're immediately back to inexorably ticking the days off. Still, it also shows that moving forward is the only option, so one should embrace it by centering on the present with as hopeful of an eye on the future as one can manage.
