Perhaps you all remember that I am doing therapy.For almost three years now. With an amazing therapist. Of an incredible school of psychotherapy. Body Psychotherapy. That (in very simple and not at all sxientifical terms) believes that our bodies have memories. Of feelings. That where our brains have manifactured a scenario for our misery our bodies come and bring out the truth.

Yesterday, while half asleep in my favourite of latest position in the sofa, it stroke me.

I am depressed.

All these days of eating and sleeping non stop, were depressed days. I got on the treadmill yesterday and my back hurted and after five minutes I just turned the machine off and went to bed. And slept. I was not awake for more than a couple of hours and then went to bed again. And slept!

My body feels heavy. With no motion. I am not too keen on sex right now. Yet, I just finished my period and I should practice not-safe-sex like a rabbit since I want a baby. But I have caught myself wishing that babies were not made by having sex.

I do not care about what I will eat. As soon as I chew it. With this angry chewing I have talked about before. I want salty and then sweet and then salty again. Each bite that goes to my mouth makes me feel more and more bad and yet makes me feel I want more and more.

My whole body aches. All the muscles feel stiff. Like ready to run down with the worst case of flu. Only in my case it is the worst case of the blues.

My mother is a little better. And my husband says that my body is finally releasing all the tension. Truth is that I am not stressed like I used to be. And now I have this week off with basically nothing to do, I just sit and do nothing but feel numb.

The sadness feels ready to be released. I have been tryng to avoid it using the good ole way of feeding myself to numbness.

There is a part of me that is very happy. Happy that my mother got rid of her cancer. But there is a part of me that is so sad. Sad that my mother had to get rid of certain body parts in order to be cured. As a woman, I ache for the loss of her uterus and ovalries and tubes. I hurt when I see her wearing adult diapers.All this time, in the hospital, I was so preoccupied with her getting better, that I had no chance to cry and let my grief for her loss out. And I have kept it all bottled up. Inside me.

I think I need to get out and do something. Press myself to do something. Or else I will spend all this week sitting in the sofa, watching dvd's, trying not to watch what is getting in my mouth. Then, next Sunday will come, the day before going back to work, and I will feel miserable for spending a week doing nothing.

Tonight we have two friends over for dinner. But I have a clean house, all tidied up, and I am grilling fish for them, ebcause they love fish and my dad owns a fish shop, although I am not too fond of fish. My niece who is four and a half asked me on christmas day if we will bake cookies together like I had told her we would. I want to bake with her, but I have to go downtown and get all the food colourings and stuff to make it fun for her. I feel that getting dressed will be such an effort. But perhaps a good dose of my niece is what I need. To begin with at least...

Because the two chocolatey kilos I gained have become four. That must be a record mates. A gain of four kilos in a week.

I must definetely get Kiki and bake cookies with her. First because I love my niece to pieces. Second because that will get me doing something fun. And third, because, I am safe with cookies. I love baking them, but I don't like eating them!!!