Matthew is away again and I have sole charge for a while. We are all busy homeschooling, playing outside in this early summer weather, learning, doing. I am feeling pretty content. I need to lose weight – in my mind I picture myself a fat cat basking in the glow of contented family life – but I’m hoping the summer will take care of that. I comfort ate my way through a crappy winter where my children were ill, the baby never slept, I struggled with minor depression, my son was being bullied, my baby failed to thrive, my father in law was terminally ill, two of my beloved dogs died and my surviving dog was given a poor prognosis for her future. Comfort eating was my way of coping. That, and worrying.
Unfortunately one doesn’t offset the other. If only I could have lost a pound for every week of the worrying. That would have balanced things out nicely.
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My husband is about to leave on an extended business trip and I too have come out of an extended period of depression, pain and a whole lot of comfort eating. I don’t even dare to picture myself anymore.. But take heart that you’re not alone.