Oh, To Be 2 Again

This is a blog about depression. If you are easily offended or take offence to my very sarcastic humour, please do not read any further. Mental illness is not a joke; it is not something to point fun at and I fully understand that. BUT…when the going gets tough, sarcasm and humour is my defence and so I will be parading it around all over this blog.

 

If you need help, please get it. Whilst I hope this has a happy ending, I don’t know yet and given I’ve not been able to fix myself, I really don’t want others using this as a ‘How To Be Happy for Beginners v2.0’

 

 

My alarm goes off but I snooze a bit longer safe in the knowledge that I will be awoken by Child MH shortly. Exactly 30 minutes later, in trundles Child MH whispering the magic words, ‘wakey wakey Bam Bam’. It has the same effect as always; her huge grin instantly makes me want to get out of bed. We head downstairs to be greeted by the other two members of the house, dogs. They too seem very excited to see me.

 

We have breakfast and then head out to a garden centre and farm shop. It’s hot. Really hot. The kind of really hot that should mean people dress in light floaty dresses except I’ve only packed black jeans. Black and jeans is not a comfortable combination today. Following a ploughman’s lunch bought for me by naughty Friend KH, we roam around the swings, toy tractors and animals. Everything is so much more exciting with kids. Child MH has a great time running off to look at the animals. I should run after her, I need the cardio, but I don’t. I stroll lazily with Friend KH. We discuss how simple life is for a 2 ½ year old. Life rotates around sleep, nappy changes, playing, and eating. Child MH has a new fairy door in her room. If she’s really good, the fairies will visit at night and leave her presents. Why do 2-year-olds get all the fun? I want a fairy door in my bedroom. If said fairies could kindly drop off some diazepam, a double whisky and a shoulder massage, that would be much appreciated. I don’t think such fairies exist but Friend KH is certainly a magic friend.

 

We get a chocolate milkshake each and Friend KH and I have a marmalade muffin. I most definitely did not need either but yet miraculously they are both consumed. The thing with my relationship with food is that I hate being this big, I feel revolting, I don’t like my reflection in the mirror and I want to cry. Due to feel so upset, I want something to soothe me, the soothing remedy is chocolatey or salty food. None of the healthy stuff. So starts the vicious cycle of feeling crap about being fat, soothing myself for feeling crap about being fat with junk, feeling even crapper about being fat. It’s not as simple as saying ‘try harder’, ‘remove all the junk food’ or any other advice one may give me. I need to give cooking and healthier eating a really good shot but today isn’t the day to start it. I know, I know, why put off until tomorrow something that you can do today? Because today involves marmalade muffin, that’s why.

 

We head back home via the farm food shop. I pick up a bottle of wine for Friend RH and I tonight and let Child MH ‘pay’ with my contactless card. She’s easily impressed and totally unaware of the concept of money and the fact this 31-year-old is having to use a pre-paid card to ensure the debt repayment stays on its fastest possible course.

 

Back at the house and Friend KH and I immediately change into pjs, she too is a lover of pjs and dressing gowns. It’s also ‘DD’ time, Child MH picks out Mulan so we all sit starting at the screen letting Disney work its magic.  Not long after the movie ends, we hit ‘Acceptable to have a glass of wine’ time. This is a great time of day. A large glass of chilled white wine is headed my way. My tolerance for alcohol is still nowhere near pre-hospital levels but that’s no bad thing I am sure. As we sit and chat, Child MH helps herself to Happy the elephant teddy (see, he really is well travelled) and thinks it’s a great idea to throw him into the garden. Would all animals and children kindly stop picking on a 31-year-old stuffed elephant? Safely retrieved, Child MH apologies with her cute lower lip in a pout, it’d impossible to tell off. In fact, I want to laugh but that will probably undermine Friend KH’s discipline so I look the other way. Other than eating too much, so far today is a better than average day. This is really good. The self-loathing of my size is nothing new so I don’t consider this as impeding on the rest of my emotions.

 

You give me a hard time about not being fair when he’s making an effort and then you do this? I am frustrated at Sister. In fact, I think the frustration has been building for a while. It’s not just the card, it’s a few other things too.

 

Supper tonight is lasagne which is very tasty but leaves me feeling doubly stuffed. In fact, I am certain I am look pregnant. I can see my reflection in their full length window and it’s disgusting. I hate me. It was very tasty though, and Friend KH found a way to stuff even more vegetables into it with the thanks to courgette noodles.

 

I’m really tired and I am feeling so negative about my appearance. My hair is a state and in desperate need of some attention, my weight is probably higher than the last time I weight myself and to top it all off, I have spots. I need to work harder at having a healthy routine and swimming is going to be a key part of that. My earlier pride at having made it to the pool has all but disappeared. In fact, I really want to cry. To occupy my mind, I read by iPhone light until I am ready to drop off to sleep.

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