Weight, exercise and that thing called depression.

Exercising when you are depressed is unbelievably hard. But it is true that exercise releases endorphins and is therefore beneficial to anyone suffering depression.

As someone who has been largely housebound for the last three and a half years, but a previous super fit gym addict, my fitness was the final remnant of normality I strived to hold onto. But eventually failed.

It has been hard. So hard, and largely I have been fighting a losing battle. As often as I can fight the depression and the negative demons in my head, I drag myself into a lonely and certainly not air conditioned kitchen..put on some upbeat tunes and do the best I can. Often a long mental battle occurs before I get there, and more often the depression wins and I don’t get there at all.

It hurts to think that three and a half years ago I was super fit and for the first time ever I was OK with my figure. As shallow as that might sound, my entire life since about 9 years old has been obsessed with trying to change my figure. And that’s the headspace I find myself back in right now.

The other thing this loathsome depression has made me do is comfort eat. And gain weight. Because, quite frankly I could exercise every day, but if I’m eating more calories than I’m expending the resulting outcome will be this wobbly blob I currently despise.

I am one of countless people who struggle with their weight. I can’t stand when naturally thin people say things that are judgemental of the overweight. The relationship with food is so often much more than what on paper is so damn simple. It is an emotional addiction. It is plastering over something so much deeper.

Weight loss on paper is a mathematical equation. You merely need to create a calorie deficit by means of healthy eating or exercise, but ideally a mixture of both working together. It sounds so simple. A deficit of 3500 calories will lose you one pound of fat. But when your head and emotions are the obstacle.. It becomes less simple.

I do know what I have to do. I know how to do it and that I have done it before. But what i don’t know is how to stop my comfort eating and how to motivate myself when I feel so low. I’m going to give it my best shot.

I have reached a point of self loathing that could be my new motivation.. I got to the gym on Tuesday for the first time since dad’s diagnosis last October. It was hard, but thanks to the times I have managed to drag myself into the kitchen and workout, I still have a basic fitness level from which I can work. The first time is the hardest. That is done. I plan to go again tonight if I can work past this heavy low feeling. I’m really tired so will probably try and get a sleep first.

My current weight is 10 stone 7.5 (147.5lb). I’ve decided to tell you this so that I can take you on my new journey of exercise and diet until I get back to my ideal weight. Because I will do it. I will. PMA

Quick update on dad.. Heartbroken 

I’m going to write properly whenever I get the chance.. 

In the meantime a quick update. Wednesday afternoon dad started getting really bad again. It took me from when I first called the doctors at 5:15 pm until 5:45 pm the following day to get help for him. No sleep, my mum was being held hostage in the bedroom. Police burst in and dad went flying. Dad tried jumping out of the window but somehow we managed to stop him.. He wouldn’t talk to any of us, it was awful. 

Finally psychiatrists came and they took him to a mental health clinic where he remains. Yesterday mum and i visited.. But he blames us for putting him there and thinks we betrayed him. 

I’m so so devastated. My heart is breaking over and over again.. 

The week my dad went mad

I’ve come up to my cold and lonely room so tired and in need of sleep. I struggled to sleep already, but the events of the last week have left terrible scars. If I were to explain, it would not ever put across quite what it has been like. But I shall try…



I believe my last post was about last Monday night when Mum was being sick and Dad started to talk nonsense. Well things got progressively worse as the week went on. Tuesday he was terrible and that night I managed to get him to go to bed eventually, Wednesday he was worse and showing serious signs of paranoia. He seemed to see me as the enemy and was trying to control which room I could be in and what I could do.  Mum and I both struggled to get him to go to bed but managed it eventually..



But Thursday I decided that Mum and I could no longer cope alone. I phoned my brother and asked him to come and be with Dad whilst Mum and I went to talk with a doctor about Dad. Our usual doctor was away and so we saw a woman, and she was so unhelpful and unsympathetic, we were very upset. She did agree to send an emergency doctor to our house later to assess Dad.. At this point Mum and I were so upset, we didn’t want to go straight home so we popped for coffee.



When we got home, Dad and my brother had been chatting. Apparently Dad kept running out and chucking used teabags out the door. Not long after our return the doctor we had seen earlier came. Amazingly she apologised for being so unsympathetic earlier.. and then she talked to Dad, took his bp etc.  She suggested that she send a mental health assessor but that the soonest appointment would be the next morning.



As for the rest of the day.. you just had to be there to believe it. He was doing the weirdest things, wouldn’t let anyone go to the bathroom without a fight, wouldn’t let my brother cook for us and confiscated the shopping he brought. He peeled and cooked one potato.. and no word of a lie, he stood looking at this saucepan of cooked potato for 3 and a half hours. Nobody could go anywhere or do anything, and we couldn’t carry on like that. I phoned my uncle (Dad’s brother) and he came straight over.. and once he saw how bad Dad was we all agreed to try and get him in to hospital that night. Well.. that was the idea, but it took until 5am. We were all up all night and dad was still pacing around stopping anyone from going to the toilet or to get a drink. It was the weirdest, scariest, most heartbreaking  night I’ve ever had. Dad wouldn’t let me near him and his eyes looked empty like he wasn’t there anymore.




I will continue this tomorrow, as the story doesn’t end there.







Is this what you’re here for?

Sometimes you sit there and think ‘there must be a way to reach out ‘. The silence is not kind, you fill it with the things they put on television. But those things are there to numb our brains. You make coffee, it smells ok.. Tastes the same.

The agony aunt talks of loneliness. She says that some people just find it hard to make friends. She sounds warm and kind, you long to talk to someone like that. Two, maybe three kindred spirits will get through on that phone in. And you realise you are watching on plus one anyway. Everything is null and void. Including you. 

The heaviness in your stomach, your legs, your head, heart and soul.. Runs through your veins and pools inside drowning you. You haven’t showered yet. Do you smell? Do you care? You never get dressed unless you  have to go somewhere. 

Is this what you’re here for? The gift of life is precious, you know that now more than ever. Why are you wasting away? Why are you allowing this to happen? So c’mon.. What are you going to do to change things? Because you are the only one who can change things. 

If you could feel connected with the world somehow, it might help. You could go on Facebook. But those 435 ‘ friends ‘ are not friends but acquaintances. A couple you see once in a blue moon. You could post something trying to allude to how desolate you feel, but you will get a disappointing few emoticons and not much more. Each time you excitedly check your phone to see who cares your heart will sink a little more.

You could join a Facebook group. But you’ve tried that and no friendships have come of it. You could go on a dating site. But how can you explain your situation and who would understand? It takes a lot of time and messages to even have an inkling of their personality. And you don’t hand out trust easily. You’re not in a position to invest in any relationship anyway. 

You could write a blog. But who would be interested in what you have to say? You’re in a low place and people don’t like to surround themselves with negative crap. Again  you might get a few likes here and there.

But you are not just this sad person. There is so much more. With the right people you are childlike and silly, you are bright and someone who reflects on the things that matter and who wants to help make the world a better place for both people and animals. If only you could. You feel small and powerless. You long to live but you are scared. You long to have real friends who want to stick around in bad times. 

So what do you do? You feed the birds, squirrels and hedgehogs. That’s what you do. 

How do I love myself? 

I want to reach out. I want to be reachable. I want to be watered and fed before I die. I am lost in a world of fear and loneliness. 

Drink has been my friend at times. The kind of friend who fools you and takes you for all you have before throwing you out. The kind you keep being drawn back to but you can’t understand why. You don’t answer their calls for months on end, but they never give up.. They never fully let you go. 

I’ve longed to be wanted so much that I’ve been able to convince myself that lust is something deeper than the shallow crap it is. Never has it touched upon the pain of craving connection and love. Never has it made me happy. Never has anything remotely healed me. 

I do feel a sense that I am coming to understand why I have never found love. Because I have never loved myself. It always sounded such a cliché – one must love oneself before they can be loved. But I really think it is true. I think that now I must step out and do whatever it takes to start loving myself, for real, once and for all. 

So if anyone understands and has advice on how to start caring about and loving yourself, please do comment with your advice. I know I need to find a way and start making progress somehow.