He got joo-joo eyeball, he one holy roller He got hair down to his knee Got to be a joker he just do what he please...

So I weighed myself this morning. After all of the sugar free chocolates I've had over the past few days, I shouldn't be surprised to see a gain, right? I mean, those things are FULL of saturated fat. Sugar free does NOT mean they're anywhere close to okay. Damn it.

136.4.

Highest since the awful weeks of Xmas vacation. How have I let myself get to this point? I ask over and over again, but I'm only answered with an eerie silence, as if there's no one home.

I stood in front of my bedroom mirror last night, eating a handful of pretzel crisps. I was eating because I was anxious, and I was upset, and I was bothered, and I've begun medicating myself with food (over the past few weeks) for some ungodly reason. THIS is why I'm getting fat. I have fallen to a new low. I pulled out a pair of size 9 jeans I had tucked away because they had finally gotten too loose on me. They were too big to wear any longer, even with a belt. I remember putting them away, feeling triumphant, loving the fact that all of my hard work had delivered me to a size 7...one size closer to that 5...then 3... But no. I pulled on the size 9 jeans...and nearly cried. They fit...snugly.

What the fuck am I doing to myself? The scale tells of a 5 pound gain, and yet I feel tons larger. I've missed out on exercising for nearly two weeks now, mostly due to my knee injury, but fuck...that's no excuse. I could be doing SOMEthing, I could be. Pain is only pain. This is not worth it.

So back to my mirror, back to those pretzels, back to the hand to mouth motion that seemed to exist only in a hazy dreamland...I wasn't present, I wasn't tasting them, I wasn't even focusing on the hateful image reflected in that glass...I was numb, quiet, completely still, aside from the hand, mouth, chew, swallow, all of it very slow and robotic...and it hit me. There's a disconnect here. I'm staring at my failure, and it's staring back at me, and I'm eating EVEN AS I SEE MYSELF gaining, DAILY, seemingly exponentially, I'm still overeating, and eating foods I KNOW are forbidden (and for good reason). I realized it, then...I'm failing to see the overeating as the cause for the weight gain. I'm eating like it doesn't matter, like that's not the reason I'm getting fat again. I'm chewing and swallowing like an animal, without enjoyment, without thought, grazing carelessly and yet going insane on the inside... My mind is refusing to acknowledge the truth of the matter, it's pretending that this gain *must* be the result of something else, my depression, my anxiety, my injury, my ...whatever...but NO! It's NOT.

It's right there. The fucking food in your hand, in your mouth, and no one's putting it there but YOU. Then the question comes, "Why don't you hate being fat anymore? And more importantly, where has your passion for being THIN gone?"

It's like it doesn't exist anymore. I look at my thighs and of course I'm not happy, but I'm not hating what I see anymore. If you're complacent, if you're willing to *settle* for what you have now, where's your motivation to CHANGE it? There isn't any. I want my passion, my drive back, and I don't want to have to gain back up to 140 to finally feel that intensity again... I want to remember what it was like to crave 110 so savagely, so obsessively, that I was willing to do anything and everything to obtain it. Where has it gone??? And why does it feel wrong to be without it?

I had planned on going through each of your lovely comments and making return comments back individually, and personally, but now I have to go because my computer's dying and the coffee I just chugged is already driving my bladder crazy. On the bright side of things, I worked out today, burned 460 calories (about half of what I've consumed) and that felt good. My knee hurts a little, but sweating out my frustrations with myself felt even better, made me feel strong, for the first time in ages. I'm looking forward to making today awesome, and making tomorrow even better, but I'll need your help. That's right, I'm not above asking for advice. Have any of you ever found yourselves questioning your motives as to why you're doing this, why you've chosen to continue it versus fight it, and when you do find yourselves lacking in motivation, what do you do to pep-talk yourself out of the slump? Anything is welcome...and as always, I love you dearly. Thank you so much, for everything.

EDIT: Oh, and I forgot...I got my hair cut. So that's cool. I'll post a pic for a bit, so you guys can check it out. :D