{where i'm at}

I have been avoiding this blog.
And much of the Internet, truth be told.
You could add family and friends to the list too.
My rut eventually formed a big 'ol hole that I found myself crying at the bottom of.
Depression is hard to cope with. It's rotten, because it feels like no one understands or even cares to. It's lonely. Battling yourself, truly loathing yourself at times for no other reason than just being you are (or aren't) is torture. And knowing your are doing it to yourself, making yourself miserable is a hard place to come out of. Even when you know you have so much to happy and grateful for.

I have dealt with depression for most of my life, and ironically most of my life I've been completely unaware of it. It's much like a slow creeping fog that gradually seeps into every part of your life. At least that's how it's been for me.

I spent a long time feeling isolated, feeling so incredibly lonely that I found myself praying for friendships that could help heal some of my broken heart. But the honestly, I pushed people away. I was terrified of rejection. Having my mom leave when I was younger was the ultimate rejection and I couldn't bring myself to open up again. My heart just couldn't handle anymore hurt. Yet I hurt myself every day. I would tell myself the most vicious lies, slowly tearing myself apart. Over the last couple of weeks I've found myself in that dark place again. I have been hurting myself by pushing everyone away, telling myself that I am worthless, feeding myself lies and unhealthy foods. I lost the ability to feel truly happy, my smiles feel more forced and I stopped finding those brief moments of joy that make the not so fun times worth it. I just couldn't see them. Everything just felt hard and heavy and bleak.

I don't know anymore, which came first, the depression or the self destructive behavior. It's a vicious cycle. But I do know this: I have knowledge. I have a choice, lots of choices, to make every day. My imperfections do not make me worthless. And I deserve to be happy, like, truly happy again.

So I'm starting over. I'm going to pull up my big girl panties and push away the negative thoughts and start making some different choices. And I'm going to work on being nice to me too.

If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to hear a little piece of my story. I know this blog has been a whole lot heavy lately and I want to change that too. But it's important for me to share my whole journey, even when it isn't pretty. So check back soon for more regular, and hopefully more helpful posts.

Junk.

I remember the first time I thought I was fat. I was in the 4th grade and I was wearing blue and black hounds tooth patterned tights. We had just come in from recess and as I plopped down in my chair I saw that my thigh looked bigger when I rested it on the seat of my chair. I lifted my leg up and down several times watching the shape change. I was horrified. Ashamed. It was completely ridiculous. I wasn't a "fat" child; I wasn't rail thin as most 4th grader (I had started developing the previous year) and in my 9 year old mind that made me fat. Things got worse as I continued to develop; with curves and a training bra came taunts and name calling, relentless teasing. I remember a boy who teased me every day as I walked home from school. He would shout that I had hidden melons in my top, making the other kids laugh. I would fight back tears and the urge to flash him just to get him to leave me alone. In the 6th grade a girl called me "fatty" in front of the entire classes. It crushed me. I could go on and on. Rumors, people talking about me when they thought I couldn't hear, putting glue on my chair during art class, name calling right to my face. So many hurtful things said and done over years and I took each one as truth. I had a big nose. I was fat. I was ugly. Worthless.
I wish I could go back and help that young girl. Help her to see herself differently, but I can't yet. She's still a part of me and that's something I need to deal with. Part of me feels that I'll only be worth something if I lose these 79lbs. Another part worries that even that won't be enough.