I’ve been depressed.
Hence the lack of blog posts.

I’m trying to pull myself out of this. I know losing a parent is hard on a person. I know its hard to watch the surviving parent try to live through this. I don’t sleep. When I do sleep I wake up a few times each night. When the alarm goes off the only thing I want to do is turn it off and go back to bed. Call in to work. Get fired. Worry about bills another time. But I pull myself up, take a shower and leave the house, as hard as it is to keep moving. I don’t pay attention to how my hair looks. Which for me says a lot. I put enough make-up on so that I don’t scary the co-workers.

I bought a guitar and I’ve played it a handful of times. My mom showed me some chords, Angie said those were wrong and I just gave up. I did pick it up tonight so that’s something, right? Every day I mean to exercise…but I don’t. I drive home each day wondering if I should just get fast food because all I want to do is consume calories to feel better.

Last night I weighed myself and I have gained 10 pounds in the last 4-5 months. Not surprising considering. I was actually surprised I didn’t gain more. But I think looking down at the scale, as depressing as it is, was probably a nice big godsend for me last night. I went to bed last night and slept 8 hours. Yeah, this morning I dropped coffee and was in a hurry getting to work. Then it was snowing so I slid all over the road for the first 10 minutes. But today, for some reason, I decided it was time for a change. I can’t bring my step-dad back. I wish I could. I miss him like you wouldn’t believe. There is no way to describe this unbearable pain. I wake up a few times each night feeling out of breath. Is it possible to have an anxiety attack while sleeping?

Anyways. The change. I ate pretty good today, aside from the bad stuff I had on the way home. But that was my send off. It was my good-bye. No more. I can’t do this. I can’t keep feeling like this. This utter exhaustion and unbearable sadness. Angie and I are going to the gym tomorrow. She’s helping me with a meal plan. I am going to pick up my goddamn guitar and play it. I’m going to spend less time laying in bed in the evening and more time doing…something. Taking pictures. Playing with the cat. Hell, even planning a trip to somewhere next year.

I miss Ron. I miss the way life used to be but when 2013 started I said it was going to be the best year yet, aside from getting over his death. 13 was a good number for him and it was my lucky number. I should spend my year honoring him. He’d be so proud of me if I lost all this weight and dragged myself out of this depression.

I hope to update more. I don’t know how many readers I have, if any but writing makes me feel better.

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