Getting back to being okay
September 09, 2004 
6:50 am
So much of my weightloss in the past has been based on an attitude of optimism and humor. Losing weight was fun; it was a game with the ultimate goal of a happier me at the end of it. Now, though, I am finding out just how hard it can be to lose weight when I don't have that optimism and humor to buoy me up.
There just seems to be something "off" with me. I keep writing sentences here trying to explain it, but I can't. It's as if I've spent the last few months depressed over one thing or another, and I don't know how to stop it.
Mostly I think the depression boils down to my lack of a job. Finances here are still okay, but we are eating into savings with every month that passes. All of my job inquiries go unanswered; I can't tell how many jobs I've applied for in the last couple months but not ONE of them has called me back for even so much as a clarification. My interview clothes are still hanging in the closet, in the exact space they've always occupied since the day I brought them home.
I just can't seem to remain optimistic about anything anymore. How can I believe that I will lose this weight again, when I can't even find myself a job? How can I believe I could be successful at anything?
It's just leaking into everything, contaminating my life. Why should I bother unpacking my books and arranging them on the bookshelves? Who cares? No one is going to call me today for an interview, so I might as well just lay in bed. Why should I make the bed, straighten the living room, do the dishes, sort the laundry? I'm not making any financial contribution here, I'm just mooching off of my husband and pretending as if I'd a right to do so.
And why should I bother going to the gym? Someone as pathetic as me can't lose the weight, no matter what they do. Going to the gym won't make a difference at all. Besides, it means getting dressed in the clothing I couldn't even afford to buy for myself and driving the car whose gas I can't afford to replace to the gym my husband pays for, so that I can smile and pretend to be happy and make friendly with the other women there, the women who have jobs and lives.
I know it doesn't make sense. I'm sorry that I'm not the humorous, upbeat person you've been reading. I know in my head that all of this is BS, that going to the gym WILL help, and that a defeatist attitude is the biggest stumbling block I could ever contrive to put in front of myself. I know all this, and yet knowing doesn't make a difference.
I feel ineffectual, invisible, and alone. My poor darling husband doesn't understand, doesn't know how to help me, and I can't tell him how either. I just need a job. I need to be helping us, not digging us into the hole. I need to pay my share of the bills, need to be supporting myself or at least know that I can. I feel worthless.
*shakes self*
...Well, now that I've gotten that out of my system, I feel a little bit better. Do you know, the sun is rising? It's September, the beginning of my favorite season.
I am going to do the dishes now, and then I am going to make a pot of coffee. Then I will finish sorting my books and make some sort of plan for putting them on the shelves, sweep the carpets, quick-mop the kitchen floor, make the bed and straighten the bathroom. Later today I will sit down and figure out a new plan of attack on the job front. Then I will cut a deal with my husband: since I can't take myself to the gym, maybe he will drive me over and wait in the bookcafe next door until I'm done.
What I am most thankful for at this very moment is that I have all of you to help me, to inspire me, to love me while I get through this. I don't want to let any of you down.
Jenn, I wasn't okay. But I am now, or at least I'm going to get there. Thanks.
