I was contemplating starting another blog - called Sad Fat Girl. I almost did it too. But then I decided to pick up my old pen and paper journal and started flipping through it. It was at that point that I realized that in the midst of my horrid depression I was struggling immensely with my body weight and feminity. On top of that I referred to myself as the Sad Fat Girl. So, it's not right of me to start another blog, because these two issues are very inter-related. Instead, I shall just put a header as ny title any time I talk about this.
I am sitting in my bed, Andrea is sewing on the couch. I just want to hide from the world to be honest. There is a brownie in the fridge - and I am fighting every urge to go and get it and eat it in my bed in hiding. The only thing that is stopping me is the potential embarassment of them finding out what I'm doing. But, the fact of the matter is that I am *that* girl. The one who eats the food in hiding so no one knows how disgusting she really is - or at the very least I am on my way to being that girl.
I have given up in every sense of the word.
I am not nearly as outwardly depressed as I was last year - but I certainly am much more resigned and hopeless.