[TW: Depression, anxiety, ED]


Guise, I'm depressed. Even though I'm mostly ok on the outside, and my Effexor and Propranolol seem to be working in terms of keeping my moods even and the demons at bay, I have a just a huge fucking Eeyore on my chest who won't go away.

Eeyore, just my luck, has recently grown spikes on his hooves and filed his teeth into needles and is constantly attacking me. I'm having trouble even writing about it.

Whenever my depression gets our of control, I am desperate to find control in other ways. What way has it manifested this time? Let's spin The Wheel of Self Destruction™!

Around, around, and around we go, where she stops, nobody knows...

Aaaaaaaand if you guessed massive calorie restriction and refusing to eat, well, you get a prize! Sigh.


I recently started counting calories again, as my weight has crept up over the past year and I haven't been feeling quite right. I started doing some walking, which is good, and I spend a lot of time cooking really healthy food - also good. But I can't seem to find a healthy balance between watching what I eat, staying healthy, and feeling good about myself separate from food.

There's so much going on right now that's stressing me out (whole other post), but when I restrict calories, I feel marginally better. Sort of. Mostly, I'm just listless, dispirited, and don't feel like eating. Then I feel good about not eating, so I try to not eat for longer and longer periods of time.

The worst part? I feel so dumb and over sensitive that the person on the MP article about weight is what triggered the spiral. (The comment that I replied to was the one that finally made me snap hardcore after an entire weekend of bullshit comments by this one person telling me how I have no willpower and took the easy way out with WLS).


I'm so angry. Just so damn angry. I hate the fact that I even have to eat because there is never a time when I put a bite of food in my mouth and don't feel guilty about it. The only period of my life when I ate terribly was in college, actually - growing up in a sugar free, always-on-a-diet household, and then being sexually assaulted, or used for pump and dump sex tends to make a person choose bagels over boys, in an effort to stay safe from all the awfulness.

The worst part about all of this? It's not like I'm stupid - I am painfully, acutely aware of how bad and unhealthy all this is.

But I can't seem to stop feeling proud of showing my willpower in having only had a cup of coffee and a liter and a half of water today.


And I am too afraid to put anything in my mouth and fail.