Depression is something that I constantly battle since May of last year. Maybe a switch or two in my lil’ ol’ pea brain are completely burnt out. Maybe it’s due to the side effects of the meds that I take. Maybe it’s having to completely accept that there is physical damages that just can’t be repaired. Maybe it’s due to the constant pain in my brain. I really don’t know.
What I do know is that I eat whenever I’m having a serious bout with it (like these past 2 weeks). And I usually eat sweets when I start eating. I tell myself and I reconcile it by remembering that I could be doing something far more destructive such as …
- Drinking alcohol. Nah. That doesn’t mix well with my meds and I avoid it even tho my oldest thinks I’m hoarding Rose’ right now.
- Smoking tobacco. Nah, I like to breathe too much and it was a real pain to quit 16 years ago; so why start again?
- Doing drugs. Drugs? I don’t even like the meds that I have to take now.
- Cutting myself. Ewww! That means having to see blood. No thanks!
- Arguing or being violent. Nah. I already have a headache. Besides, your Grandma could probably kick my ass right now given the physical limitations that I still experience. I know that she could definitely outrun me.
I suppose there are a ton of other worse things that I could be doing to feed my depression but I usually key on the word “feed” hence I eat ice cream and sweets cuz I like them. I’m not obese mind you. I’m kinda Teddy Bear snuggly right now.
