Single brown female seeks… sleep.
The past week has been a bit up and down. The other night — Thursday or Friday — I couldn’t sleep and was suddenly overcome with irritability. I thrashed around in my bed for a while before getting up and pacing the apartment. I thought about writing something here, but I couldn’t focus enough. What I wanted to do was scream really loudly, but of course, that wouldn’t have done anything but scare the cat. Eventually, the feeling passed and I was able to go to sleep, but the past couple of days have been a mix of those feelings and a bit of depression. It might be because I still haven’t heard back about the job I apparently have (they keep postponing me signing the acceptance letter until they’re ready for me to start) or because — being as impatient as I am — I haven’t seen any results from the week of eating well and exercising.
I know, I know — it takes time to see results. But like I said, I’m impatient.
Anyway, that was my week. Before today, I lost two pounds in water weight (did you know you can get rid of water weight by drinking more water? Shocking, I know, but it’s true!) and then today my body was ravaged by a silent but quick stomach flu that took off another couple of pounds. But believe me, this is not how I wanted to lose the weight. I feel like my insides have been ripped out.
Getting better though, so moving on.
Things are still going well with the guy, which is good. I haven’t displayed my real highs or lows in front of him yet, but not because I’m afraid to, just hasn’t happened.
Sleep is harder and harder to get. Let me rephrase that — I can’t fall asleep easily. Even with the Seroquel, it takes hours and hours to fall asleep. Once I fall asleep, it’s either nightmares or just waking up every hour. I don’t get into a good groove until well after I should have gotten up and started my day. This will have to change soon, if I get this job.
Other than that, all that’s changed is I’m smoking more, which I like to pretend is offset by the fact that I’m working out. I know, wishful thinking.
Later this week I’m volunteering for a charity golf event whose proceeds go to mental health awareness. I’m so honoured to be a part of it, not only because it’s obviously a great cause but because it’s in memory of my friend’s brother, who committed suicide 11 or 12 years ago at age 17. The idea that I’ve known this family for years and haven’t helped at their events or donated to the charity they set up in his honour makes me sad. It’s a great charity and an amazing family. I’ll report back on Thursday.
Tagged with: depression • sleep