Back... to Usual

I got back from Italy about two weeks ago. While I was there, I had a considerably healthier lifestyle in every way: I walked everywhere, I had energy, I ate well, I was active and happy. I lost close to 10 pounds and a full clothing size, and I really thought I had made lasting changes in my life.

The first few days I tried to convince myself that everything was going well. I'm not sure what even triggered it, but I quickly sunk back into a pretty deep depression, the likes of which I really thought I'd left behind.

Lately I've been experiencing pretty massive hypersomnia, sleeping up to 16 or 18 hours a day and still falling asleep if I sit still. Most days it's remarkable if I wake up before 3 or 4pm, and that just disgusts me on so many levels.

I was supposed to go with my boyfriend to visit his mother today, but I felt physically incapable of getting out of bed. He got so mad that he finally just stormed out the door without me and when I called and asked if I could drive up separately, he shouted that he didn't want to deal with me today. Things have been really bad between us since I got home, and I think that this kind of stuff is going to drive him away for good. Weirdly, even knowing this, I either can't or an unwilling to change my behaviors and the ways they affect him.

I did the same thing to my mother in Italy. Like, I was so mean to her I made her cry, several times, and I just didn't care. I don't even remember what I was fixating on, but it truly felt like no one else mattered - I was just entrenched in some private inhuman misery. I hate being this selfish and cruel, and I hate that I feel like I have no control over it.

As I'm approaching this coming semester, the financial, academic, and social anxiety are all but overwhelming, and daily I think I should either drop out entirely or take some time off because I know I'm not ready for my thesis. The things I could be doing in preparation, I'm refusing, opting instead to sit around and watch TV or sleep all day while wallowing in my confusion and worry.

Our apartment is an absolute disaster. The first few days I was home, I got all excited about domestic stuff, cooking, baking, and cleaning as much as I could. I was actually cheerful about doing laundry and reorganizing, thinking about how much nicer it was to have a constantly clean and tidy apartment in Italy. Then at some point I just stopped caring and slid back into the slovenly tendencies which have been driving my boyfriend and I crazy all this time. I leave garbage in the middle of the floor, I don't wash dishes until it becomes a huge task, I don't put anything away or clean anything, and for good measure, I haven't even been showering. Across the board, I've had this horrid "Why bother" feeling, which manifests itself in appalling ways.

For what it's worth, I've also gained weight since coming home, as I haven't even tried to maintain a healthful diet like I did abroad. It's been all baked goods, fatty meals, or fast food, and I see that I'm dragging my boyfriend down with me.

I had a glimmer of hope when I found an affordable city fitness center with a full-size pool a few subway stops from my apartment. I had this thought that I could get on a regular swimming schedule and it would be both meditative and aerobic, and I had this notion of reclaiming the person I used to be in high school (when I swam year-round and was much fitter and healthier). I got all excited about it while I was at my parents' house, and I went out and spent too much money on a new bathing suit, goggles, and swim cap. I also bought a yoga mat, thinking I'd like to take that up too.

Then when I got home, I just became deflated. My boyfriend wasn't at all interested in joining this fitness center or even in coming with me to check it out before I registered. He kind of scoffed at the whole idea, saying I'd never go, just like I never went to the gym when I was a member. I tried to argue that this was different, because I could go to it by subway and didn't have to spend time in traffic or circling for parking, but he maintained his skepticism. Instead of going through with it anyway, I just let myself feel defeated and hopeless and put off going all week. I want to say I'll go tomorrow, but really, I don't want to disappoint myself anymore, especially if I sleep until the afternoon and miss registration hours yet again.

The thing is, I know this feeling all too well, and I know this is not normal. I spent several years in undergrad like this, and I recognize that I'm pretty deeply depressed. I want to get help and take control of it, but I know that I can't afford to see a counselor or therapist, and I really wouldn't want to go on medication again, seeing as that is a significant part of how I became so overweight in the first place.

I read an article on Helping Yourself Out of Depression (since I do love the DIY mentality), and it rang of common sense and seemed reasonable. I mean obviously, if I want to feel better, I should start exercising again, since that is what made me feel better in Italy. This is also one of the things I'm really mad at myself for, so I can kill two birds with one stone. Getting better control of my diet and sleep are obvious no-brainers, yet wow, they're hard to do. Reengaging in the activities I've completely stopped since coming home will be good for me, and it will help me alleviate my back-to-school anxiety because I will be - gasp! - doing something to help myself.

The only part of the puzzle I can't manage is what to say or do regarding my family and boyfriend. The last time I told people I was depressed, they tried to talk me out of getting treatment, then said it was just an excuse for laziness. I remember my mom sending me an email saying I wasn't depressed, I was just really immature and needed to grow up instead of indulging myself in an expensive treatment. When I try to express things that make me unhappy or tell people the things they do which make me feel worthless, they laugh it off and tell me I'm being childish and oversensitive. My boyfriend always tells me it's choices that I make and flaws in my own character which let me feel depressed, as he seems to believe that at any time I could just pull myself up by the boot-straps and get on with life.

I don't want to tell people that this isn't me, because not only will they not believe it, but I'll lose any credibility with things I say to them in the future. I can already hear my mom saying "Oh, she's doing that depression thing again, ugh," as if I've joined some cult.

I know that the conditional support I get from my family and boyfriend contribute significantly to my anxiety and faltering confidence, but any time I say anything to them or ask for help, they think I'm blaming them and get all defensive.

I guess I've just convinced myself I'm on my own in this. To set some reasonably attainable goals for myself, I will:

1) Get showered and dressed.
2) Get out of the apartment today. Go to the grocery store and take a walk to find where my car is parked, check if I have to move it tomorrow.
3) Wash the dishes and tidy up the apartment.
4) Cook something for dinner and try to get to bed at a remotely decent hour.

Now I have to confess my alternate plan - stay up through the night so I can go to the fitness center in the morning and register. We'll see.

I'll check back in soon and monitor things. I have to believe I'm capable of fixing this.