Walkin' the walk is a WHOLE different story..

Fuck. This. Shit.


Sorry.


I'm obviously frustrated. Painfully so.

It doesn't help that my computer plays two roles at the moment, either of which is apt to take over without prior warning.

My darling little girl *LOVES* herself some Dora the Explorer. I don't mind that she watches it; she's learned more Spanish from that show than from her highly priced daycare. It's just that I need to write...and often. It's how I manage to avoid SCREAMING when I feel like I've felt all day today.

Ugh...my fingers look so fat right now...Here, I'll take a picture.

There. To be posted.

Anyway... Yeah. Tomorrow, I'll be fasting. I'll admit that I've never done it, as I tend to cave halfway through the day when I start to get dizzy. I work out every single day (except for on this fucking vacation! God DAMN it!) and I can't be fainting at the Y. They'll kick me out. Unless I can get around the tunnel vision during a fast, I have to stay away from it at home. But here... Here, it's 14 degrees outside, sometimes lower, sometimes higher... and we hardly get out. I hardly get up and on that elliptical. The little one hardly leaves me alone long enough to get even a hundred calories worth of cardio... Ugh. I hate this sedentary bullshit. I can't handle it. But...it *does* have its upside. I'm going to fast.

I shouldn't have a problem with fainting, as I'm not burning many calories just walking up and down the stairs and around the house. I do believe we have a scheduled lunch date with one of the bf's old friends, but I can easily say that my stomach is upset. Not a problem. I HAVE to do this. Lemme tell ya why (quickly, unfortunately, as my computer is about to be taken from me yet again...AND someone [who happens to be three years old and ridiculously rambunctious...no names mentioned] has just had a potty-training accident and needs help changing)...

We all know what happened yesterday. Binge-o-rama. Eat, eat, eat some more. I promised myself that I'd let it go, not kill myself over it today. I've had some trouble with that. I can't just let myself off the hook like that, as wonderful as that may seem. No, no. Not possible. I simply can't overlook a day in which I more than likely undid an entire two weeks worth of restricting. At least that's how it feels. I could be overreacting. I have a tendency to do that...don't we all? Whatever...yesterday sucked. So I resolved to make today a better day.

You wanna guess what happened today?

I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count.

Fuck yes, I ate. I only worked out for about twenty minutes, at which point my daughter apparently found it impossible to leave me alone any longer. I gave up, a little pissed, mostly frustrated, and proceeded to lie on the couch for about an hour, head pounding, choking back tears, hating myself and my weakness and this disorder that defines me, that controls me, this "lifestyle" I "chose." They all tell you to get out while you still can. They say it'll take hold of you and you won't be able to break away, and you'll wish you had stepped back from the edge while you had the presence of mind to do so. Of course, I have to make my own mistakes to learn from them, and that is why I'm here, I suppose. One of the reasons, at any rate. That is why I moved out at 17 to become hopelessly addicted to drugs and live with a man who beat me daily... until I was rescued by a man who ended up cheating on me in secret for nearly a year but *only* after I'd had his child and decided I'd have to marry him because of it...God, I'm glad I didn't marry him. Guess that means I started to wise up a little by that point, huh?

ANYway...sorry for the rant. I do that.

So today, as I lie on the couch facing away from my boyfriend on his computer, away from my daughter as she used *my* computer, I thanked the powers that be for the both of them. THEY are the only reasons I haven't killed myself by now.

Yeah. I know.

This thought struck me like a knife in the back, unexpected and deep. Suicide. I've entertained the idea so many times, and I've seen the question in black and white..."Have you ever considered killing yourself or others?" ...checked the "no" box on so many psychological evaluations, each and every time knowing better than giving them that info. They've got their hands full with all of the other shit that's wrong with me, let's not give them *that* fuel for their fires...

I realized this, though, as I wallowed in my own self-pity and loathing, feeling empty and so wretchedly, filthily full at the same time. I...would've done it by now. If it weren't for the two of them. Wow.

As it is, I don't ever let myself think of it *because* of them. I'm all she's got, and I will *never* hurt him that way. That is why I'm here.

Huh. Anyway. I made the decision to start a fast tomorrow. Apparently, this decision meant (somewhere in my subconscious) that I should go ahead and load up (A-fucking-gain) on everything I won't be allowed to have tomorrow, or ever again. Yeah. EVER? Again? "Ever" is almost as bad as "never." Both are very dangerous words, and should be used with extreme caution and much consideration, lest you be proven a liar in the future by your own actions.

*sigh* Ha. My babe just looked over at my screen a moment ago and commented... "Wow. That's a lot." Yeah. I write a lot. If you've made it this far into the post, thank you.

I should go for now. I'm needed. I have so much more to say. I have so much more within me. I've tried my damnedest all day long to cover it up with cup after cup of caffeinated beverage... then food, both fully consumed and chewed, then spit... then alcohol, which is nearly always a mistake. Laxatives have worked about half their magic on me today, and judging by the sharpness of the pains in my abdomen, I'll be enjoying the rest of that triple dose by midnight or so tonight. :/

Thank you, my lovely readers. I adore you.

<3