Ever since Amy was telling me that I seem to have it all together, I've been nudged to post more honest blogs. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing or neither. Part of me doesn't like the dwelling in the sludge part, but part of me is curious if it might have some degree of "healthy" in it. Let me know if I'm sounding too depressed. :)

The last couple days I've been wrestling with depression, and this writing prompt set me off on a whole train of sad thoughts that are, nonetheless, true. I think the depression is probably stemming from my anxiety about the job tomorrow. If it goes well, I bet you I'll be posting super happy posts soon. If it doesn't go as well as I had hoped....Well, you might be seeing more depressed entries for a while. :P Ugh. Wish my identity (and mood!) didn't depend so much upon other people's evaluations of me.

Prompt from the One-Minute Writer blog: "Do you know true hunger?"

My mom didn't cook. When we were young, she tried; when we were older, she left us to ourselves. She never taught us to cook. I went away to college. Had a sufficient meal plan until my last year, when guilt over the cost of a meal plan outweighed the rational idea of feeding myself. I never went a full day without food, but I went to bed with an aching stomach almost every night. I usually ate breakfast and lunch and skipped dinner. My roommates cooked food in the apartment, the smells wafting around and making the hunger pangs worse, but the food was not for me, and my desire not to offend or impose once again outweighed the rational idea of feeding myself.

Today I have good days and bad days. Today, for instance, it is dinner time, and I have eaten a bowl of cereal, two hard-boiled eggs, and a piece of toast with jam.

I never miss dinner, because my husband comes home, and it is motivating to have somebody to cook for. So we eat, even though we usually only have a main course. Sometimes I'm ambitious and bring home a side dish or some rolls.

Sometimes I worry whether my mom gets enough to eat, now that we're grown and out of the house.

I don't know if this counts as true hunger. [To me it sounds mostly like whining, which galls me.] What really hungers is my soul for personal connection, and my eating habits reflect that. When I'm with people, I eat; when I'm not, the effort doesn't seem worth it. I have big problems reaching out to people. That doesn't seem worth it either. If I didn't have my husband, I don't know where I would be. Hopefully in a doctor's office getting a prescription. But for now, when he's home, it feels safe to eat, worth the effort.

Yech. I sound so depressed. Luckily, I need to go to the store and buy a salad now. No time to wallow. We're having dinner tonight with Heidi, Alex, Alex's brother, and Alex's brother's girlfriend. I'm not exactly looking forward to it, because meeting Alex's brother makes me nervous. He hasn't turned to the Christian faith like Alex has and I know it's a spot of tension between them...And here we barge in, these two Christian friends of his...I'm just hoping religion doesn't come up at all. :/

And all this before I work tomorrow. Oh, life.

-Stephanie

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