Molly cautioned me to watch my nutrition and take care of my body. One of the things I didn't mention was the fact that I've lost quite a lot of weight in the past couple of months. So much that very few of my clothes fit me anymore and I had to buy some new pants and skirts. I started with the size I usually wear, then had to step down a size and then another, to find things that I could wear right now. To add to the irony, I gave away all my skinny clothes because I thought there was no way I would get this skinny again, after infertility treatments and sliding headlong into perimenopause. Eating is something that doesn't cross my mind often, and sometimes when I do eat I feel like it wasn't worth it because I feel like crap after. Like everything else, I have to start slow and build back up to what's normal.
Cricket said a lot of nice things (as did everyone who took the time to comment), but I have to say that right now I don't have the time, the money or the will to go back into therapy. I've already spent years talking to professionals -- 6? 7? I've lost track -- and still I ended up here, even with the happy blue pills. I realize that the hallmark of someone who needs help is someone who refuses it, I understand that I am depressed and that my self-deprecating thoughts are counter-productive. I have to trust that I will know if and when it makes sense for me to go back to therapy, as I have before, and right now that doesn't feel right.
Julianna, my dear friend, thank you for letting me know you are still out there. People often tell me that I am strong, I have to be, otherwise how could I still be a functioning member of society after all the things that have happened to me. I am a survivor. While that may be true, I have survived, as I said in my last post, when I get depressed and defeated like I am now, instead of tapping into the strength that enabled me to get here, I feel the weight of my past like the earth on Atlas' shoulders and I stagger under it. This too shall pass.
GP in Montana told me that I should keep praying. I don't pray, because I don't believe in God or any higher power. There, I've said it out loud, written it down, and its posted on the internet for all to see: I am an atheist. I've often thought that the only way my childhood could have been more confusing or messed up was if my family had thrown religion into the mix. I know people who garner great comfort and joy from their faith and I don't have a problem with anyone praying to whatever or whomever they choose, its just not something that is a part of me. I don't believe that there is anybody out there looking out for me, taking care of me, or who loves me unconditionally, those are earthly pursuits in my world. I do believe that riding helps me a great deal and does keep me out of my head. Missy has taught me a lot of lessons in the last two years and I can only hope that my presence in her life has made it better. She needed a person and apparently, I needed a horse.
DinoD, thank you for reminding me again that this is a transitory state, and one that I have weathered before. Every day is different, some days I feel like I am making progress, and others, not so much. I wish I could keep moving forward instead of moving forward only to slip and fall backwards again, but that has always been the way that I eventually get through rough times.
Ollie and Kym, my longtime friends, thank you for being there. Writing does help me to sort out my thoughts, putting jumbled thoughts into words, then into a structure called a sentence, then a paragraph, creates order that no other endeavor does. In order to make it make sense to others, I have to create some order inside myself.
I know you would all rather be reading about and looking at pictures of horses, and I do have some new information and images to share on that front, but for now this is what I need to write about.