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

I am

I am, I exist, I wake up every day
I’m lost in the mist of my own lonely way
I’ve tried many times
Reached as far as I could
Drawn north and then south
Between bad and then good

I had to pretend it would all be ok
To live in a world where I am just a stray
I’ve cried many times
I am broken inside
Born lonely my heart
In the darkness I hide

These Skin and Bones – poem

I could write a million poems
Crafted carefully of words so old
Speak softly in the voice God gave
But still my truth would not be told

Some things we simply can’t convey
That dwell within our heart and soul
Pushed in this world, alone we bow
With endless longing to be whole

I heard her say that happiness
Is waking joyful to exist
Oh love – the only key to this
My eyes are shut when I am kissed

We’re people made of candle wax
Though light I shine is wasted here
I long to just be noticed too
I dance around but hide in fear

Let’s sing a pretty song to end
Sad notes and painful undertones
Hope someday through the mist of time
You’ll understand these skin and bones

The Journey

The train left without me, I’m not sure where it was headed exactly.. but it seemed to be where everyone else wanted to go, so I tried to get on board. It was just too full and I couldn’t fit in. I found myself battered, bruised and thrown back out.

So there I stood confused amongst the dust that rose in its wake, abandoned on the empty platform as the train sped away. I stared briefly before composing myself and dusting myself down. That was when I could see that my destiny was to walk a slow and lonely journey without fellow travellers.

It dawned on me that although my way would be different from theirs – less certain and often quite exhausting – it may be that I was the lucky one. I would have time to see things of beauty that would whizz past their windows. I would be able to spare time to stop and help other lone travellers, and perhaps hear their unique stories. I would have time to love in a different way. And as I set off on my journey, I realised that my baggage would only hinder me, so I threw it away and travelled empty handed.. stripped back down to how I once had arrived. FREE

Mess (poem)

Look here i stand
Dark clothes in dark shadows
And in this peace
My head is thumping loudly
Saying to me
Over and again..

Girl, you’re a mess
Nobody ever liked you
They could not care less
Cos you’re a mess
Just look at you
You look so fat and ugly
Wearing that dress
You dirty mess