Anatomy of a Downward Spiral

You step on the scale first thing in the morning, like you do most mornings, and it reads 2.5lbs more than you expected.

This makes it much harder to fight the demons in your head later trying to keep you from going to BodyPump. So you skip the class. You work. And work some more. You face a few headache-inducing tasks, but you drudge through them.

But skipping BodyPump makes it much easier to listen to the demons encouraging you to eat that chocolate cake for breakfast. And for lunch. So you do.

And you eat other things. And suddenly you lose motivation to get dressed or fix your hair or shower.

You drudge through your workday, oozing the bad food choices out of your pores. You cross off tasks but the day just keeps getting grayer.

You drudge through your domestic chores but you have no idea why. You’re now in robot mode.

Work. Laundry. Cake. Work. Laundry. Chips. Work. Laundry. Cry.

You take a break to pay some bills. You realize one medical bill is almost $3,000 more than you expected. You spend hours crying on the phone only to find out that suddenly you may be financially responsible for surgery that A) Your doctor recommended and B) Changed your life for the better. This is where the idea of speaking to someone like a Private Medical Insurance specialist could come in handy, especially if you don’t know what to do next. When it comes to finances, it can be a lot for anyone to deal with on their own, but knowing you have someone by your side could make all the difference.

But because of the gray day and the bad food choices and the drudgery of work/laundry/tears…you are not equipped to process this new stress. So you cry some more.

You finally make it to school pick-up time. You’re wearing sunglasses because you’ve reached that point where you just can’t stop crying about the gray of the day. The bad food choices. The extra pounds on the scale. The medical bills. The laundry. The drudgery of the day just brings tears.

The kids get in the car and feed off all of that negative energy to produce more. They fight. They whine. They sass. You demand some quiet time at home and yet they still keep going. The fighting. The whining. The sassing.

So you yell. And while you’re yelling part of you thinks it’s making you feel better to yell. The other part of you thinks it’s making you feel worse. Because now, on top of the pounds and the food and the medical bills…you’re a shitty Mom.

You send them to their room and you lay in bed and you cry. And cry some more.

You put the pillows over your head and think about how nice it would be if your insurance paid for therapy so that you’d have someone to talk to about days like this. But hell, your insurance isn’t even paying for the medical procedures you needed, much less your psychological ones. You’re just screwed.

And you curl up in bed and just pray you can get out of the funk before your husband gets home.

16 thoughts on “Anatomy of a Downward Spiral”

  1. Oh, Kim. I wish your insurance paid for therapy because going to therapy has been the best thing I have done for myself in the past two years. Every two weeks, I am a faithful visitor to my therapist’s office, and it helps me more than I can even express. Even though I am more “okay” now than I used to be, I still find myself needing to go because if I don’t, I begin the backslide into my dark places.

    I ate this weekend like I had never seen food before. I stopped weighing myself daily because I was often letting the number on the scale dictate how my day went, which is not its job. But my weigh-in day is Monday, so my scale this morning said I was three pounds heavier than I was last week. I know that I didn’t gain three pounds of fat this weekend, and that means the scale is lying, but it’s still so hard to have that “bad” number staring back at you.

    I am sending love and light your way. I hope that you are feeling better soon.

    PS – I think it’s so brave of you to put stuff like this out there. I am fine with burying stuff like this in comments on someone else’s blog post, but on my own blog, these heavy topics rarely see the light of day.

  2. This was me on Saturday. I’m still fighting my way out. Working out today helped, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to tell you – you are my inspiration. I hit 40 and figured I could either keep doing what I was doing, and never be able to enjoy my retirement, or do what Kim did and just take that first step. Thank you for that, and keep fighting!

  3. i don’t live in your state, but in mine you can get therapy for free, regardless of your income. i do it. and it helps. running races and painting and cooking and working are all good, but sometimes we need someone to listen to our thoughts and show them back to us in a way we didn’t see before. hope you feel better soon.

  4. I was going to reply to you on Twitter when you posted about sitting in the pick-up line but got pulled away. Hugs (((hugs)))!!

  5. I have been there, friend.

    The suck, it gets better. You fight it one second at a time. Until it becomes a minute, and then an hour, and then a day.

    And you lean on those who care – the ones far and near.

  6. I am there right now. Starting slipping on Friday, haven’t found my footing yet. I have no outlet anymore, no blog, nothing, so I spin in my head and make it worse.

    Be strong Kim. Know that there are so many of us supporting you, and finding themselves in your struggles and just that we all love you, even if we are imaginary internet friends.

  7. How I would love the courage to throw the scale away–then this sort of thing couldn’t happen to me either. 🙁
    WHEN I sit down and do the exercises in this book, they help a lot: (The Food and Feelings Workbook)

    Ideally you’d do it along with therapy, but it’s a start.
    Also, I am TICKED OFF that your insurance will not pay for your surgery. That is some BS.

  8. I had the same type of day yesterday. Just know there is someone out there feeling the same feelings, feeling like a shitty mom, feeling overwhelmed, and feeling like a failure. You are a great mom and a great person though! I hope you’ve had a better day today. 🙂 And stop punishing yourself for the cake. You just ran a freakin marathon last weekend!

  9. Ugh. This was a gut punch for me, because you have captured what many days have been like for me. I am so sorry, which is not enough, but it’s all I’ve got – that and positive thoughts hoping the grey will give you a break for a bit.

Comments are closed.