Depression & Weight Gain

Over the past year, I have gained 60 of the 99 pounds I worked so hard to lose, and I absolutely hate admitting that. I've been through a lot, and yet again, I have found comfort in food and laziness. I've been to more funerals this year than I'd like to admit, and my father was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer. With so much loss and already struggling with depression and anxiety, it's easy to lose your purpose and find those extra pounds.

I've always taken pride in the fact that I am an honest, down-to-earth person. Happy. Excited. Sad. Depressed. Anxious. Those are all real feelings, and it's hard for me to admit to you that I often feel every single one of them, especially when that's what I promised you all in the first place.

I've succumb to the wrath of depression and anxiety for many, many years. When I open up to people about my mental illness, some of them are shocked. I generally appear on the outside to be a cheerful, happy, confident person. I'm not the type to lay in bed and be sad. I am more of a high-functioning depressed, anxiety-ridden individual. I worry about everything. I worry about my friends and family dying. I worry about losing my job, my apartment, or other important things. I even worry about worrying. And when I worry, I turn to food.

Like millions of others, I am on medication for depression and anxiety, and I'm not embarrassed to admit that. Although it helps, the meds do not work miracles. Unfortunately, since mental illness runs prevalent in my family, I will most likely have to deal with depression and anxiety for the rest of my life. Since medication isn't a 100 percent cure, I have to find other ways to make myself happy and clear my mind.

I am happier when I eat healthy and workout. Striving for better health keeps my mind occupied and gives me a sense of accomplishment. But, why can't I do the very things that make me feel that way? Why do I dread getting off the couch? The depression and anxiety keep telling me I can't do this again, while I keep screaming to myself that I can.

A few of you counted on me, and I am so sorry. You counted on me to be real and inspire you, and I have failed. So, the failure has to be made into something beautiful. Even failure can't be wasted. I have to take this opportunity to enjoy not having to do it all over again, but getting to. This blog gave me purpose. I am looking forward to getting back to it and sharing every step of my journey with you all again. As I've said before, the journey is what it's all about. It's going to suck, but it's going to be so cool at the same time.