Really, do I need to even say anything with a post title like that...191, as in 191 pounds, as in I gained five pounds over the weekend. Should I tell you how angry and disappointed I am in myself? It probably goes without saying, I am not happy with myself.
I've been trying to figure out what is going on with me, why on earth am I so hell bent on killing myself with food?
I have figured out that there's a direct link with how much I eat and how much I visit my sister. Last week I made three visits with to see my sister, two hours each visit. Even though the visits go really well, I find I get terribly depressed after seeing her. When I'm depressed and sad, I eat junk. I know this is a problem, but I seem uncontrollable.
Since the residents of the adult family home where my sister resides are always working on a jigsaw puzzle, but my sister can't seem to figure them out, I bought a puzzle that was for age 3+. She still struggled with it. I worked with her, giving her hints on which pieces might fit, but she had a very hard time.
I bought the wooden block stacking game Jenga. I read online it was good for stroke patients. She was better with this than the puzzle, and we played several times over the weekend (I visited Saturday and Sunday). She remembered how to play it on Sunday, and I think she enjoyed it.
I brought her new tennis shoes that fit. I had to buy two pair, one size 11W for her paralyzed side, and one size 10W for her non-paralyzed side. She use to wear size 9N. We had a good laugh when I tried to force her paralyzed foot into the size 11W. The shoe was huge and her foot really isn't that big, it's swollen and her toes are curling under, so she needed a bigger shoe. No matter how hard I tried to jam her foot into the shoe, it wouldn't fit. Finally, with her talking and talking to me and me not understanding a work, she grabbed the shoe from my hand and showed the open part to me so I could see I missed a big wad of tissue stuck down in the toe. We both had a good laugh over that one.
I took her for a walk outside yesterday in her wheelchair, with her rolling herself along and using her good hand. It was 58 degrees and sunny. She cried for the first five minutes. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. I finally determined she was happy. It was her first time she had been outside since her stroke on September 21, 2011 (other than being transferred into or out of an ambulance). She was smiling the entire time, looking at everything and talking non-stop (none of it made sense).
I asked her if she remembered her daughter, Camille? I told her Camille wanted to come visit her soon. She waved her hand back and forth and shook her head no. I asked if she knew who I was talking about when I said "Camille". She looked at me and just shrugged her shoulder and put her hand out, like no, I have no idea what you're talking about.
We had some good visits last week, so why does it depress the hell out of me to see her? It makes me sad, I want to cry when I leave her. I feel awful this has happened to her, and I feel awful what has happened to me. I wake up at night, worried about her, worried about her finances. Just worried about everything.
So I eat to make myself feel better. It's not working.