frump

Frump

Frump. Ugh, the day this photo was taken, I was actually in a decent mood. I was taking the puppies for a walk, bare feet in the muddy earth—-things are good. And then I saw the photo. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. I knew I needed to color my hair, I could see it in the mirror but I had no idea it was that bad. And I’m actually embarrassed. Holy crap I let myself go. I know when I’m depressed I don’t want to get out of bed, I don’t want to get in the shower, I don’t care to change if I’m not going out. I don’t shave my legs, I don’t dye my hair. But OH MY GOODNESS.

I AM still out in public. High functioning depressive at times? Yep. But I really don’t realize how bad I present myself until I see something like this. Ugh. Good thing I have such a sparking personality, right?

Geez. I really hate myself sometimes. How the hell do I let myself go so far and not even realize it? This makes my heart sad. But makes me even more sad for my husband who has to live with me as this frumpy person who doesn’t care.

And, I just typed this post after coloring my hair.

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Whatcha talkin' bout Willis?