Damaged and Depressed

I feel like I’m still recovering from Thanksgiving today. (Saturday.)

I felt worse yesterday. (Friday.)

And I didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol on Thanksgiving. (Thursday.)

It goes much deeper than that.

Going from one toxic situation (affair) and the ugly break up of it with just a year in between, to another toxic, gang-bullying and abusive situation, has made me severely traumatized that I have not been able to crawl my way out.

And so it’s gotten to the point that I feel like this every. single. day.  I feel like I’ve already died. Essentially I have. Essentially I am dead…or might as well be.

In addition and in the midst of depression and the lack of recovering from so much trauma, we have moved recently, from a house we lived in for 13 years to a two bedroom apartment.

This, as you can imagine was a lot of work. Living with a man who has a difficult time parting with things made it no less stressful. His sister was our landlord and has still not sold the house, so the two car garage still has shit in it that Mr. B has to figure out what to do with.

Much of it has been taken by other family members and he has taken what we have room for here. Our storage area has reduced significantly though as you might imagine.

To add to the stress, about a month after moving in, we discovered an infestation of fleas in the new place. I am pretty sure they were here before we were from the information I’ve read about those evil fucks, but there’s no way to prove it.

Edit Monday 10/9/17: I think now that I may have been wrong in thinking the fleas were here already. Our cat was an indoor/outdoor cat who was, I found, already pretty itchy when we moved. Fleas are apparently not as noticeable when living in a house (although I do remember dealing with them a couple times at the house) as they are in an apartment. The fact that the effected animal was able to go outside also gave the house some respite and so the infestation didn’t have as much of a chance to grow like it did here. Kitty wasn’t going outside (and still isn’t) so there was no where else for the family of fleas to go and grow.

Fighting fleas is a good example of chaos control, which has felt like the story of my life. We sprayed, powdered, vacuumed and dusted. I also packed up some of our shit and boxed it back up to make the dusting easier. So that is still all boxed up and down in the basement and garage as well, taking away from our storage area.

I no longer have a desk in our new place. It was broken in the move but in addition there is no place to put it here. So I spend my time sitting on my bed or in it, depending on the temperature of the room. So I’m even isolating from my roommate.

Edit 10/9/17: I have moved the small drop down wood desk that we had in the living room into my bedroom. The drop down part gives sufficient room for a laptop. It would not hold a lot of weight but it does the job I need it to do and also gets me out of sitting in my bed all day using the computer. I listed this desk on Craigslist a couple times too. So glad it didn’t sell.

Even if I wanted to sit in either the living room or dining room, I wouldn’t be comfortable doing so now because of all the powder and spray we used on the only half way comfortable piece of furniture out there…the sofa.

10/9/17: A year later, the couch is sittable as far as the powder being faded and vacuumed. But it’s not comfortable and although B uses it, in my mind, it’s simply something that takes up space. I have never had a good and comfy couch of my own. So pathetic.

The self-isolating has also become worse now because the dog I had walked for someone, passed away a couple weeks ago, so I don’t even go out once a week for that anymore.

Under all this stress for the last seven, almost eight years, I have not taken care of myself at all, using junk food, alcohol, pot and cigarettes to numb the pain. All of that also certainly has added to the physical damage.

I have aged significantly in a short amount of time. As someone who has looked younger than her chronological age, this has also taken a toll on my self-confidence as well. I know 51 ain’t no spring chicken and in all honesty I do have a tough time accepting the aging process, but I look and feel much older than those 51 years.

Anyway, although the junk food doesn’t give me the same intensity of a hangover as alcohol does, I still feel something similar to one nonetheless.

Carbs, I am finding put me in a state of lethargy and depression. I couldn’t believe how knocked out I felt on Thursday night when I got home. And although I’m sure it had something to do with being surrounded by other humans…which I am no longer acclimated to…it was mostly all the carbs I ate that night, I’m sure of it, given my self-observation of late.

I find that when I eat close to a keto plan, I do much better. I start to lose weight, depression begins to lift and I have some energy.

But then I break down and eat something sweet and I’m not talking about just some fruit. Nope, I’m all about the cookies, brownies, cake, you know, shit like that.

This is not a problem perhaps for someone who can control themselves, be somewhat indifferent and not eat a whole fucking box of cookies in one sitting. But that’s not me.

I know what the problem is:

I don’t feel good enough. I don’t feel worthy of being healthy. And until I do, this self-sabotage won’t stop.

10/9/17: Sad, not much has changed in almost a year. I am truly stuck and today I’m feeling depressed and rather bored. It took a lot for me to just get to this task of editing here. I have been drinking coffee, which is not a good thing for me. I did follow a keto way of eating for a few weeks and the heart palpitations where un fucking real. And I was not drinking coffee during that time. 

I went back to eating carbs but kept it on the healthier side for a while, like eating salads and quinoa with veggies along with some beef or chicken. But I gradually went to eating junk again and got caught up in that cycle of wanting to be excited by my food. Used food as something to look forward to as I do not have anything I look forward to in life. And I got caught up in that cycle because once I start eating junk, that’s when I get lethargic and have no energy to prep good healthy food. Today I bought some stuff on the healthy side. Let’s see if I eat it. 

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Self-Sabotage: Something I’ve Noticed

Sometimes when I’m feeling good or happy or full of energy and then attempt to use the energy, I self-sabotage. If I’m hiking, I step on a branch and then trip over it with the other foot. I jump down a set of stone steps, land on a twisted ankle and fall to the ground.

The day before I went on a cross-country trip many years ago, I got on a bicycle that was entirely too big for me and got my foot caught in the foot holds of the peddle. I could not get my foot out and fell over.

A couple nights later, my friend Toph and I had made it to DC and were staying with a friend of a friend, with a few other friends. We went to a concert and just to make a long story short we broke off into two groups and I lost the friend I was traveling with.

But I was still with two other people I knew well and we stopped to get beers. Then the leader of the pack decided he wanted to get down the ground (floor level of the show). It was a far jump that I really needed both hands to make safely. I jumped anyway, with beer in hand and scraped up my leg. I spilled most of my beer too.

That pretty much ruined any good time I might have on the ground so I went back up the steps and went to the rest room to clean up.

By then, I ‘d lost both groups of people and sat among a small set of bleachers of strangers. It sucked and it was boring and lonely. But I did have the presence of mind to remember where the car was and found my way back to it. When I did I just laid on the hood and waited for all the friends to make their way back to it.

During our trip I’d lost my friend again, in the woods of a park in WV. He took a path but I stayed behind. A few minutes later I changed my mind and tried to follow him. The path split though and I took the right. Somehow, I found my way to a meadow, crossed it and ended up on the road inside the park.

A park ranger pulled over to see if I was OK and so I told him what had happened and luckily was able to use a particular cabin as a landmark to get back to where Toph was. The ranger drove me back and my friend was sitting on the hood of the car waiting.

This was 1995 and there were no cell phones, (not really) in case you are reading and wondering why the fuck didn’t we just call or text to find each other…well that’s why.

I don’t think the above examples are conscious methods of self-sabotage, but I do think that’s what I’m doing, subconsciously.

Not that every time someone falls or has an accident that’s what’s going on. I’m only speaking for myself and certain situations.

I self-sabotage in conscious ways too, however, I don’t think it’s any less a learned behavior than the subconscious behaviors.

When I’m eating healthy, begin to develop healthy habits, and start to feel better in general, the go-to is to do something that is not good for my health. Smoke pot, eat junk, drink yummy craft beer. It takes me further away from what, who and where I want to be.

Even though I know this, each time, I make this choice to ‘fall.’