My weight is back in the 170s for the first time in YEARS. I feel terrible, emotionally and physically. But it just seems so hopeless. I was doing so well, losing so much weight, and now I've gained almost 20 lbs back in total. I have constant pain in my back and legs that seem to have no cause at all, chronic nausea (again, no discernible cause) and agoraphobia. I can't live independently (I feel sorry for my parents being stuck with me, but that doesn't mean I don't get annoyed with them!), so I have to work my life around my parents', both of whom are retired.
I'm really annoyed with my living arrangements. Mainly because my doctor refuses to entertain the idea that there's anything wrong with me until I lose about fifty pounds, which, fair enough, but how the heck am I supposed to exercise, exactly? Can't do it outside for obvious reasons. Can't do it inside because I don't HAVE a half hour to myself. My mother goes to bed at 1 am at the earliest and she's up by 9. My dad comes home at 1 am and goes to bed around 5 am. He then sleeps in two hours bursts for the remainder of the day. Meanwhile, my mother is in and out all day, and when she's in, she absolutely needs both the television and a direct visual line to said television in the only room close to large enough for exercising in. And my father's favorite pastime is making fun of me.
And I really, really just want my doctor to accept that there's something wrong with me. I mean, they started acting up when I was just learning to sleep in my big girl bed when I was a kid. I wasn't fat then! And, I mean, it can't all be weight related, because I got rid of the pain entirely for a few months last year, so (believe it or not, it was lying in an uncomfortable hospital bed for 12 hours without moving very often that did it, go figure). I barely sleep any more because it's finally started waking me up at night as well as just keeping me from falling asleep. I can't sit in one position for more than a minute or two - either my back aches and my legs start buzzing, or my neck starts to hurt and my hands go numb. I barely sleep, I can't eat unless I know for sure that I'm going to be home for the rest of the day (whenever I eat my stomach gets upset), and with all this, I can't go anywhere even if I want to try.
I hate myself, I hate being fat, and I hate myself for being fat. I hate that I can't stop myself from bingeing, even when I can tell that I'm not hungry - I'll eat even if my stomach aches from eating too much. But, well. Even if I lose the weight, I still won't have any friends (you can't meet people without going outside), I'll still be the pathetic 25 (26 in a few weeks) - year - old who lives with her parents and likely will for a long time to come.
And, heck, as I've proven, even when I lose the weight, I just pack it back on in the end.
I've been on every antidepressant in the book. They do help, but the fact is that my depression isn't idiopathic. I'm depressed because my life is pathetic. In the end, who cares if I'm fat? Even though I know it's supposed to be for my health, I'm only trying to lose weight because I'm tired of looking so ugly. Not that I'll ever be pretty, really, but, well, it'd be an improvement at least.
I'm sorry for going on for so long. It's just that if I hear one more person give me "diet tips" I'm going to punch them. This is not about a freaking diet. I don't eat too much because the food tastes so great (though that's always nice when it does!), I eat so much because I always feel hungry, even when I'm very, very aware of being just the opposite. I wish I could tell people that it feels like I'm holding my breath for as long as I possibly can - but eventually you have to breathe!
Anyway. Sorry I went on for so long.