Most people who have experienced depression know that it can have a big effect on ones appetite.
Personally, I’ve always been on the end of the spectrum where depression leaves me ravenous, unable to stop eating the comfort foods I know and love. That is part of the reason I have been so shocked by how depression has effected my appetite the last week or so.
Breakfast doesn’t seem to be a problem, and I think it is mostly because I have been making these wicked good fried egg and cheese sandwiches on artesian sourdough bread.
Lunch is a bit trickier. Fewer things than normal sound delicious, the past few days I’ve been managing to get by by eating platefuls of gyoza.
After noon or so, it is just gone. No food cravings. No hunger whatsoever. No interest in food.
I’ve been trying to remedy this by making things I should go wild for for dinner. Mac n’ cheese, Swedish meatballs, slow cooked roast beef and potatoes… but the outcome is always the same. I take a few bites. My mouth isn’t interested, and I can’t eat any more.
Anyone who has spent time around me knows that this is completely absurd. Not only does my love of macaroni and cheese surpass the love I have for most people, but I am a huge foodie at heart. I watch food shows all the time, I love to cook and I simply love to eat.
Unfortunately this love is just another thing on the list that depression has robbed me of.
This current bout of depression has been all about stealing passion. Passion for the future, passion for day to day activities, and now passion for eating.
Though I joked with Corey that some good might come out of this (I really wouldn’t mind if I lost a bit of weight) I really genuinely prefer to enjoy eating. I’d rather have something left I could look forward to every day. The sooner I can get that back, the better.