Giving Up?

I'm not sure what's going on anymore. Yes, it's true, I've been able to give up Mountain Dew. I'm quite proud of that.

But I can't stick to anything else consistently.

I'm not exercising. I'm not cutting back on portions. I'm eating junk.

Why?

I know that giving up the Mountain Dew was the biggest step for me. I know that because of this, I haven't been going off on obsessive junk-food-filled binges of massive proportions (which, believe me, I have done before).

I'm only eating when I'm hungry, not because I'm depressed or bored or tired. At least I think I am.

Now I am looking at what I'm doing and am wondering why do I make the choices that I make, why do I do the things that I do? Why do I buy the donuts or the chips w/dip or the pizza instead of buying something healthy.

And I realize I am depressed, I am bored, I am tired. And I need to do something about it.

There once was a time when I was happy, where I was losing weight without even thinking about it, where I had energy and was, dare I say it, even a little bouncy. And this was when I was on Effexor and was dealing with the chemical imbalance that causes my depression.

With winter coming, I can't allow myself to fall into another depression. Especially since I also suffer from an odder version of bi-polar syndrom (or manic-depression, you pick) which is triggered by landmarks. In other words, I get depressed around my birthday. And this is because I had a former friend who used to say right around March 1st (my birthday's on the 11th) "Dana, you're going to be (insert number) years old on the 11th. What have you accomplished with your life?" And no matter what I said I was proud of, he would rip it apart. I wasn't smart enough or pretty enough or thin enough, I wasn't rich or famous or anything enough.

I've moved on, I have removed negative influences from my life, I have wonderful, spectacular friends who uplift me everyday...and yet, I can still hear his voice in the back of my head every once in awhile. "Dana, Dana, you're going to be 38 in March. What have you done? Are you married? Do you have children? Have you ever finished that book you started?"

And I sit there and look at my life and wonder what have I done? What have I accomplished? I'm not trying to depress anyone by writing this, I'm not asking for affirmations (well, not much anyway), I'm just trying to work this out in my mind.

I'm 37 years old, I am reasonably happy most of the time (maybe the word is content) but I still have inner voices telling me how pathetic I am. I had a pyschologist who figured out the landmark thing and who also told me that I should imagine that those voices are demons and then imagine that I am Xena, Warrior Princess and kick some demon ass.

I'm trying. But I think it might go better if I visit my doctor and get the Effexor again. Which means calling and setting up an appointment and figuring out if I want to use a full day of vacation or a half day (because I only have one day left this year). Which means riding the freakin' bus. God, I hate the bus.

Okay, enough whining for the day. I need to do something about this. I am not going to give up.