If you wanted to know what a bout of depression does to a person on a weight loss mission, I can tell you.
I've been depressed for like a month. Almost the whole month of January. I got some news that freaked me out and landed me in the bathroom, back sliding down the wall, face in hands, tears soaking a whole roll of toilet paper. Multiple times. I can't really talk about the news right now, but it pretty much knocked my world off its axis.
One of the side effects of the Prozac is loss of appetite. So even though I sometimes feel like binging, I can't because I'm not hungry. It's nice, but it has a downside. I don't eat healthy regular meals anymore. I eat sporadically and I eat whatever's around when my appetite finally shows up. I haven't gained any weight. I'm still a steady 150 lbs. My workouts have been waning though. I feel as though my happiness is present, but that my motivation is lessened. I'm not sure what that's called. Where general happiness replaces drive and ambition. My whole demeanor can be summed up with a shrug. I hate that feeling. I mean I would if I wasn't so consumed with apathy. Can a person be consumed with apathy? I don't know, but I do know that I WANT to care again. I want to care about eating right and regular exercise. I want to be back on the schedule I was, instead of still being in my jammies at 12:35pm and totally unmotivated to even take a shower.
I may only be able to handle these "happy" pills for another couple of weeks before I turn into someone else entirely. UGH. They helped stabilize my mental health for a while, but I don't like the exchange rate. It's like I went from Tigger to Eeyore to Pooh. I bet I'll start looking like him too.