Ok, now that I have remembered I can control the regular part of my depression, I’m in a better spot. I joined Weight Watchers last night and feel so much better. I’ve got a plan, I know I can do it, I know it works. When I was dieting on my own, every muck up was reinforcing the nagging voice in my head that thinks I’m a loser or an idiot or a bad mom. It’s like I was deliberately hanging around in a corner of self-loathing.
Well not anymore my friends! Not anymore! I’ve joined a community! I’ve given myself tools to succeed. It’s a lot like training a dog actually. You can’t just let the dog wander around deciding for itself how to fit in in your home. You have to give it guidelines and opportunities for success. Then you can’t yell at it when it has an accident here or there. You just keep giving it love.
So today is day one. I feel outrageously relieved and hopeful and in control. I don’t know how I’ll feel tomorrow, or Sunday (weekends are the worst), but today is good.
My grief can sit and stew and simmer. But my depression is going to get smacked down. And then maybe I’ll have the confidence to get another bean in my belly. Maybe I’ll stop thinking of my womb as Tommy Jr’s house, and be able to welcome the idea of another baby living in there.
I want to be better, I really do. It’s just easier to be sad, it feels so natural. But I’ve known for quite a while now that the hardest thing is usually the thing you need most.
As much as you love him, that womb is yours, not his. Otherwise nobody would ever be able to have more than one baby. Getting a new tenant does mean the last tenants weren’t good renters. I’ll join Weight Watchers with you right now so we can bitch about it together- deal?
Deal Big S! And you are right, you’re totally right. xo
I’m literally eating a huge chocolate chip cookie as I type this. But, good luck with the WW you two.