I felt like I should write something for my blog, although I feel like I have nothing to say about lifting or my diet and everything to say about how hopeless my life feels right now.
I am now entering my 11th day of homelessness. I thought I was going to be ok because I had people to stay with. In reality, I am having anxiety attacks every time I turn around, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks and my diet is beyond fucked up. My Lean Eating compliance has been 0% for this past week and I don’t even care. I feel like I am just floating along in my existence. I feel like I could just die and no one would notice. I don’t mean that in the “I’m depressed and want to die” kind of way, but more like I am just apathetic and my life really lacks any sort of meaning at the moment.
Actually, I’m probably depressed. I’d been an SSRI for 5 months, but since I haven’t received any sort of income since September 11th, I can’t afford to renew my prescription. So I am trying to stay calm with a Ca supplement and sheet willpower. I can’t say I feel like it’s working.
Did I mention my diet is fucked up and I haven’t been to the gym in 10 days? I keep saying I need to go tomorrow, but I’m so far away from my gym that I’m skeptical it will happen. Also, I feel sick.
The first week, I stayed with friends who ate relatively healthy, although they did serve me a risotto that was lacking in protein. But I ate steak tacos and oatmeal and quinoa, etc. I still didn’t go to the gym but whatever. I found myself sneaking a chocolate bar into their apartment and feeling guilty because they didn’t eat chocolate. But then I switched houses and it was freaky in an entirely new way. I went grocery shopping and somehow managed to bypass the produce, meat and bakery sections. I don’t even consider the rest of the store to be real food! Like, who eats ravioli from a can and thinks, “Man, this tastes really delicious”.
And then I feel guilty because these people are housing me and feeding me and I just sound like an ungrateful food snob – and I really have no right to complain when I ate peanut butter m&ms and toffee cookies for lunch.
I know that at some point I will care and there is a part of me that will care. I will move into my apartment in a week. I’ll establish a routine and step on the scale, but for now I am in a weird state of anxiety/apathy. My coach sent out a mass e-mail telling me that Friday’s lesson was SO important and I should check out. I just wanted to tell her to fuck off. But really I think I just want a hug and that has nothing do with how lean I am or am not.