Major depression, such a pain in the ass. Seriously.

It's been a few months since I wrote this post; its been sitting in my draft folder while I worked up the courage to hit the 'Publish' button.

One day I saw myself in my mind's eye. My mouth was opening and stretching into a grotesque cavern. The skin on my face peeled and contorted as the pain grew so that I couldn't maintain a mask. This was a face that was screaming, and there was no sound. It dawned on me with an impossible terror that this nightmare face was not in my mind's eye. This was me, standing barefoot in front of a bathroom mirror. The face so terrifying it churned vomit in my belly was my own face. My real face. Absently, I think that I am finally seeing my depression. That whatever consciousness which was seeing this gruesome face was me, and the real face reflected was finally the beast tangible. There. Right there, that is what is hurting me. That thing right in front of me, a thing which is somehow me and not me.

 "One day you wake up afraid you are going to live." -Elizabeth Wurtzel

That is what happened to me. From the onset of my suicidal ideation problems, when I was 9 or 10 or 11, I believed I would die before or around age 21. I don't know why that age specifically, like why do people believe in Santa? When 21 came to pass, the reality of the never-ending storm took hold of me in a vice grip. This was never going to end. My depression would never have the kindness to let me die of it. I would not develop inoperable brain cancer. I would not be mercifully crushed in a car accident, or shot on a midnight walk. I was going to live. Live and suffer for years. The thing inside me would tear and claw and I would bleed and bleed, but never die.

I choose to believe that there may someday be a day when I am cured, but to protect myself, I don't count on it.

The truth is that I am prepared to fight indefinitely. At some point I stopped letting thoughts of suicide be at all forbidden. I then did my best to really look at what I believed about life and living. I weighed what I thought and believed and I chose to fight the depression & the suicidal ideation and to do my best to live as long and as full of a life as I possibly could. The power of making that choice is the power I have harnessed for my life going forward. That is the power I return to when I feel the expanding cavern of depression in my abdomen. It is my foundation for the life I build from now onward.

Look, I get that this is uncomfortable to read. I'm not sorry for sharing it, though (or at least I'm trying not to be)
. See, since the onset of my depression when I was but a wee lass, I have always been hiding all of my symptoms with a feverish passion. Part of trying to heal myself is trying not to be afraid to share what I'm going through, even if its pants-poopingly scary. I read somewhere that an obstacle to overcoming Depression is that we "get good at" being depressed, and hiding is how I do that. So in an effort to overcome yet another aspect of this damn irritating illness, I'm writing a little of what I feel here.

Oh and don't worry, I have an appointment to see a therapist in a few days, and I've been seeing someone else for med management stuff. So at this point I don't intervention-style need help, I'm just tired of being silent about my illness. I'm tired of the pressure to say nothing.

At Camp They Call Me Tomato

At camp they call me Tomato.


It's something I love about my life, and myself, that there is a place in this world where I am Tomato.


Everything is right when I am Tomato.


Part of what makes my Tomato-ness so exquisitely wonderful, is that I know I am loved, and accepted, all the way down to my salsa center.


This blog, my tumblr, my twitter, my youtube and any other spaces I may create in the future are places of respect and consideration.


In kindergarten, they used to give us 'R & C' slips for being respectful or considerate, but it took me many years to understand that R & C is the core of love, and the answer to eliminating what drives us to hate and hurt each other.


If you have something to add to a post I've written, or a video I've uploaded, share! If you outright disagree with what I'm saying, share!!! 


Your thoughts matter to me, your opinions matter to me, your perspective and your life experience are precious and I will be honored if you choose to share any of it with me.


Please know that this blog is a place where your voice will be heard (and you don't have to agree with me, not even a little!)


If you are reading these words I love you and I want you here. You are welcome here, and I will do everything in my power to give you the respect and consideration that you ALWAYS deserve.


This is a place where you matter.


Love Tiff!

Tiffany's Epiphany 1: Why I started my Weight Loss Journey

Who am I and What led me to starting my weight loss journey?

Let us create the historical documents of Fatty Fatty No Friends!

I'd like to start by introducing you to Tiffany Sudduth in the spring of 2011. She weighed about 250-260 lbs, but she hadn't stepped on a scale in a couple years. She had gone to college for 5+ years, but she hadn't finished her degree. She'd met hundreds of people, and made hundreds of friends, but she had lost contact with almost all of them. She had a cute loving mom and dad, and two derpy brothers, but she was angry with her parents, and estranged from her family. She had just turned 24 years old in February, and after a long and complicated battle with depression that had raged since she was 10 years old, she was beginning at last to heal. She was a young woman who was raw, scared and still very sick, but the sky was lightening in the horizon, and dawn was finally on its way.

Of particular importance was her age: 24 years old. The thought occurred to her, and began to nag at her, that she had never imagined she would be alive at 24 years old. For quite a long time she had internalized, at the deepest level, a belief that she would not live past her very early twenties. Yet there she was. Alive, and still fighting.

When you're severely depressed, you spend a lot of time in the company of your own thoughts.

In the spring of 2011 I was at a distinctly turbulent place in my own Tiffany-universe. I had decided to fight the depression, and I had decided I wanted to beat it. I spent long hours wondering if I wanted to live or die. Not thinking about the issue in despair, but giving honest thought to it. Okay, so I had committed myself to taking medication, to focusing on my sluggish foe, what did this mean for my life? Well, I had to conclude that this meant I had decided to live. I looked at the options to live or to die. I thought of them without fear; objectively and calmly. I was not afraid to die, but I was quite afraid to live. Filled with a tense anticipation, I turned my thoughts towards my future. If I wanted to live my life out, what did that mean about HOW I was living it?

This was new to me. This planning, this honest analysis of myself, my life. My habit had always been to hide in fantasy and daydreams, constructing microcosms of people and places in my head in which to live. I was not accustomed to being "real" about myself. To looking at who I was in this world, what I was doing, and what life I was leading.

Looking back, the next step was really obvious.

If I was going to live; to really CHOOSE life, there were things I wanted to do, and being overweight was in the way of many of those things. There were things I wanted to do!!!

If I was going to be alive, I wanted to go skydiving, running, swimming, biking, rock climbing and hiking. I wanted to have the energy to do those things! I wanted to dress in pretty clothes, and put together fun outfits. I wanted to wear shorts, short sleeves, and dresses. I wanted to be blissfully in love. I wanted to experience intimacy on a level I hadn't ever sought before, and I wanted to have really good sexy times!

In the spring of 2011 I was raw, scared and sick, but I was healing.

I chose to live, and in so choosing I set out on a journey to transform my body to be a tool that would fit the life I wanted to live.

There were things I wanted to do!