I have tried to journal regularly in the past couple of years, but I'm realizing as I open this blog for the first time in about 20 months that it has, indeed, been awhile. I have pen-and-paper journaled some, but even then, it's been awhile. And let's be honest, it's far more likely that I will lose my hard copy journal than this blog. Today, I had the epiphany that typing is so much easier that I could actually get all the thoughts I want to get out of my head down on "paper" (screen) before I get tired. That's why I burned out with writing in journal the old fashioned way. Duh. I should've remembered that from my creative writing classes way back when.
ANYWAY. I wanted to write today because I am not quite sure what's going on with me this week. I always seem to fall off the wagon (of health) completely out of the blue. I was watching This Is Us earlier, and Randall was talking about how his panic attacks always seem to come out of nowhere too, like he doesn't realize he's feeling a certain way until it boils over and explodes. I think it's the same way with depressive episodes. I get the panic stuff too, as I tend to waffle between depression, anxiety, and some aspect of normalcy (so much so that I can convince myself that my mental health issues don't really exist...until they show up again to remind me that they are very real). Anyway, this came out of nowhere. My training has been going phenomenally, all things considered (I crushed my first 20 mile run last Saturday in particular, and had a good little swim on Sunday too). Work is reasonably good (despite Shocktober), and I'm looking forward to my trip this weekend, even though I know I'm going to be hella tired. I've planned a day to play hooky from work in the next couple of weeks.
So then what happened? Teri told me she couldn't run Monday night, and something triggered in my brain to convince myself I needed to take the day off too. Then one day off turned into two, then three, then this week becomes a wash and I just have to hit reset on the weekend. The difference, though, I guess, is that I trust that I will. It still sucks to feel this way, but it's a little less panicky than before. See? I didn't even realize that until I put it into print. The thing is, despite all of the good I mentioned in the paragraph above, there are still certain stressors and anxiety-producing elements in my life. When those elements reach a certain, boil-over level, that's when the depression hits and I want to shut off and stay in bed. This is also usually when I feel like I could sleep forever.
There are little "boil over" (rather than shut down) moments that reveal hidden feelings also. Like the swim practice thing (and I haven't been back since... when that guy called me out on being negative and complaining too much, and while I still maintain that my complaints WERE valid during that practice, it did make me think about how I might be viewed by other people, especially when I make comments under my breath...and for some reason, swim practice was bringing that horribly negative side out of me more and more - I think it was because I just couldn't give my focus to that AND running, and that was making me resent it; it was getting all the bad because I didn't have anything left to give after running). And then there are the minor traffic incidents, and the thing in Target (I DID say excuse me), and the little meltdown in the car at the QT yesterday...clearly unhappiness seeping out. I know what I'm talking about.
The stressors at the moment: Chris being gone (definitely #1); the fact that despite how well the training's been going, I have to run 26.2 miles in a few weeks; and, of course, general work/life stress, a lot of which probably has to do with where we are in the school year.
And I guess I have to talk about the food thing. The reality of my eating disorder, I've learned, is that it's never fully gone. I can go months and be fine, and then, again seemingly out of the blue, I have a little relapse. I'm sure the main trigger for it this time was trying to fill the void of Chris being gone. It's WEIRD to go from someone always being around to feeling like they have a whole separate life, not to mention spending so much time alone when you're not used to it anymore.
And in a weird way, the relapse may have also been triggered by my 20 mile run going so well. It was like I was so worried about that one, and then I did it and it was fine, so all that anticipation (that I probably stuffed down and mentally avoided) triggered the need for some kind of release. I just "released" in a very unhealthy way. See? Another thing I wasn't sure of until I saw it in writing.
I do have to say that I'm proud of myself for taking one proactive step when I recognized what was happening. I signed up for online coaching with Eve. And even though I was supposed to start logging my food today, and I just didn't log dinner because I totally ate Whataburger and Ben & Jerry's (not fully ready to let go of my destructive coping mechanism, I guess), I recognized the problem and did something about it. I'll get there. Hell, I've already been there; this is just a little dip. I try to remind myself that one's path to success isn't a straight line; it's a zigzag. As cliche as that is, it's true.
I also recognized that this will (soon) pass and went ahead and signed up for strength & conditioning class with Tenisha. See? Positive steps. Not beating myself up...much. I'm working on it. Like Lillie was saying before, I guess I just don't fully believe that I've changed yet. Again...working on it.
Anyway, those are all the thoughts I have that make any sort of sense right now. I do feel a little better after writing this. I might play hooky from work tomorrow, because the storm chances are now giving me anxiety. We'll see.
