This has been a crazy,busy,insane week. I’m tired.
When I’m tired I don’t like how I look. I looked at pictures this week and I hate how I look in them. Fat.
It’s not how I see myself in my head, and when I butt up on reality, it depresses me. How did I get this fat? When will I be normal again? What if I’m not normal again? How could anyone love me like this?
Depression is just a dirty little bastard that sneaks into my life when I least expect to see him.
I’m tired – and my defenses are down when I’m tired.
Yes, I know I’m rambling but I want you to see inside my head when I get this way. I can’t be the only one.
(I don’t usually show this side. I decided that if this journey was to be successful you had to see all of me. Here I am – just another side of me. The one that looks at the world with fat glasses on. You know — I think everyone sees me as fat first, then as Deb next. That I need to jump over hurdles to get you to see the real me, not just the fat me. )