That's right.
Got it.
After much conversation, quite a bit of convincing, and a little fudgery of facts on my part...It's mine.
Small dose at first, which is fine with me. I tend to be highly sensitive to prescription medications just starting out. 25 mg? Maybe not even enough to do anything, but it's still...legitimately...mine.
The ones I got online are 50 mg each, and I plan to keep them, even though I should have this hook-up through the school pharmacy consistently for as long as they see fit...Should I start to lose too much weight (is there such thing?) then I'll have to be sure and eat/drink a ton before my appointments, just to make sure it isn't noticed.
Ha, when the lady handed me the pills she asked the mandatory, "Have you taken this medication before?"
"No," I said, glad to be able to answer her honestly.
"Well, it can sometimes cause drowsiness, so be careful driving...and make sure you drink plenty of water; you don't want to become dehydrated on this."
Water makes up the base of my food pyramid...Check.
"Oh, and..." she paused here to chuckle a little to herself... "A side effect you may notice is a little weight loss...but most women think that's a good thing."
"Haha," I faked. "Is it really? Wow, yeah, I guess that wouldn't necessarily be bad."
I could hardly wait to take it. I know it'll be a few days before I see anything, probably, so I'm trying to keep my impatience in check. I took one before poetry class. I haven't felt hungry all afternoon, but that could be placebo effect. That could also be that I decided to stuff myself "one last time," thinking that if all of my food tastes like dirt from this point forward, at least I had a last hurrah, right?
Why, yes, Justification IS my middle name!
My calorie count is most definitely over 2,000 today. I didn't work out.
Yeeeaaahh...I don't think I'll be weighing tomorrow. Just doesn't do my psyche (or will-power) any good to see that fail number first thing in the morning, you know?
Hmmmm..I'm really curious to see how this will work. Seeing as how my binge eating problems/c&s issues are not AT ALL related to hunger, I'm hoping this thing will effect me in other areas than my appetite. I explained that to the good doctor; when I stuff my face for hours on end to the point of physical illness, nearly intolerable pain...it's not because I was even hungry at all in the first place. It usually goes down like this: I see food. Food is forbidden, because it will make me fat. I want food. Internal battle ensues. Food is then consumed. I feel sick. Eat more. I feel bloated, in pain, about to explode, probably causing my insides damage, and definitely wreaking havoc on my ability to see myself as anything but a fucking disgusting pig of a human being, hardly worth the time or attention of any living creature on earth...AND THEN...eat more. Because now it's punishment. Now you've done it. You deserve to feel pain, so eat more.
Sick and twisted. Oh yes.
Hard to believe a little pill could help manage this...but hey, first time for everything, right? I'm definitely willing to give it a try.
K's suggestion? I need a hobby. Something with which to fill my time and my mind, so that I can't possibly think about/have time for food or eating. The idea has merit, yes, but from where I stand, it's so hard to even imagine a moment spent without this constant obsession. It hardly EVER goes away. If I'm not eating, I'm thinking about how I shouldn't be. *sigh* I grow weary of my own ramblings.
I hope you guys are doing well...I'm going to go clean the kitchen and imagine myself thinner. Perhaps that will be my new hobby. When I feel like eating, look down at my thighs, and instead of concentrating on how gross they look as they splooge out of my shorts...Visualize them being super lean and slim, shimmering lightly, golden tan in the sun at the beach, totally bared because they're so FREAKING HOT that I want to show them off everywhere I go.
Yeah, that's hard. But I can try.
<3
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
I need you to cross your skinny little fingers for me, lovelies...
Yep. That's me. That's EXACTLY what I look like. Except instead of a drink, I'd be holding chocolate. Yes.
A brownie I never should have purchased found its sickly-sweet way into my hand today, into my mouth, and back into the bag in which it came...
*sigh...*
Then a three-pack of Reese's... Peanut... Butter... Cups. Satan's spawn, themselves. I finished the last one in its entirety, as punishment for buying these things, and then further punishment for c&s'ing them. Cal count for the day? Lost. Gone. I could estimate, but what's the point?
Shrink appointment this afternoon. You simply MUST wish me luck.
I sortofkindof have a plan of action.
I will present my case in the carefullest of ways, ensuring that he/she sees my genuine need for some sort of prescription assistance in this, my daily...hourly...battle against myself.
I can't very well go in there and lay it all out there in the way that I'd like (if only it were that easy!) but I don't intend to be all that dishonest, either.
Fact: I do want Topamax to aid in my weight loss.
Fact: I feel that I probably need it by now, considering my apparent inability to keep myself from binge eating/c&s'ing constantly.
Fact: The student health center on campus is well aware of my history with restricting and purging, and therefore its staff may be a little disinclined to prescribe to me a drug that has a known side effect of weight loss.
All the same, I plan to inform this new doctor that my depression, which is the main issue that underlies ALL of my other issues, is dramatically worsened in instances of heavy bingeing, be it true bingeing or chewing and spitting. The initial high caused by the dopamine overload during the eating phase is almost immediately followed by the comedown and, inevitably, further sinking into my big fat hole of loneliness/feeling disgustingly ugly/hating myself beyond all reasonable measure, etc...
I want them to know that I've been working with my therapist weekly for what seems like forever, but has only really been a year or so (at least concerning the ED issues...I've been in therapy for much longer, but it was always geared more toward being domestically abused during my later teen years and splitting up with the father of my child over drugs and distrust...all that good stuff). I wholeheartedly agree that any medication prescribed for treatment of a psychological issue *should* be accompanied by psychotherapy, and I plan to continue doing this. But that's where the teensy little bit of dishonesty comes up: I'm in therapy because I'm "trying to get better." I'm taking drugs because I'm "trying to recover."
Right.
Manipulative? Sure. Am I proud of it? Certainly not, but that doesn't seem to matter at this point. God, I just feel like if I can make it, if I can reach my goal weight and stay there, I'll be fine...I'll be happy. I'll feel strong and accomplished and satisfied.
Will I be? Ha. Well. There IS only one way to find out, now isn't there?
At 2:30, I will enter the doctor's office and do my very best to convince them that they should prescribe me some Topamax for my binge eating issues. I want you all to cross your fingers and send me all kinds of positive vibes, wishes, etc. Please? Gracias.
Off I go, to write a pastoral for my poetry class. Yes, the pastoral IS quite possibly the most boring form of poetry ever invented. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of good ones out there...Just none of them written by moi.
Oh, and check it out... My little B's hair is getting SO LONG! Sure has taken a while. :P
<3 you. All 121 of you!! Yay! :D
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The best thinspo I can find, walking all over my university campus...
Yesterday, I only c&s'd one thing.
Baby steps.
Today has been great. I woke up at 137.0 (three pounds down from the weekend) and worked out for about half an hour before coming to school. I sit here now, in the middle of a crowded cafeteria full of delicious, fatty temptations, with complete confidence in myself. I can do this. I will beat this. I am better than food.
I've taken to doing this quite a bit, actually. When I start to crave something, anything, and it's not one of my safe, self-planned-menu foods, I totally bitch it out in my head. "Fuck that food! What the fuck is it, anyway? FOOD. An inanimate object. *I*, however, am a STRONG motherfucking woman, stronger than I've ever been before, and *I* have the power to overcome a simple notion, a thought, a craving. Why? Because it's FOOD...and *I*...I'm just THAT badass."
Something to that effect.
It's working so far.
I took some pictures of my goal jeans for you. I keep them on my phone as motivation, reminding myself that if I CHOOSE to do so, I CAN and WILL be small enough to wear them, beautifully, effortlessly slinking into them, I'll be THAT thin.
Just to give you an idea of how small they are, there's my hand for reference.
And the best part? Check out the original price...
yeah...crazy, right? Who in their right mind...? But you see the discount tag? $4.98. YEAH. Yeah. That's right. I'm a bargain shopper. It's what I do.
Well, sometimes. Sometimes I just go crazy when I've got a little extra money and just buy everything under the sun no matter how much it costs because hey, I've got money, right? ...and for some reason, in that flurry of cash, in that rush of adrenaline, I'm a shopping-junkie, well on her way to a room full of cool, new stuff and a head full of buyer's remorse. That doesn't happen THAT often.
So my Topamax came in. I haven't tried it yet. It's at K's house. I'm scared and ecstatic and relieved and anxious and excited all at the same time. I want it to work its magic on me the way it has Zen, help me lose 20 lbs in a month, make all my sweets taste like dirt...But even so, I do recognize that various medications affect different people in different ways, especially considering I'm taking other pills along with it. I KNOW! already...so please don't feel the need to preach. I understand that there is an incalculable risk in experimenting with drugs like this...and I know you all just want me to be responsible, safe, etc. I will be as safe and as responsible as I ever am.
Fact of the matter is this: We're all desperate. We're all obsessed. We are all..well, most of us..mentally ill, emotionally disturbed enough to starve ourselves daily, for years, or to force our fingers and our toothbrushes down our throats again and again, hating ourselves with such passion as is comparable to nothing else on this earth... all in the name of a goal we can hardly manage to describe to another without choking up...It means THIS much to us.
It means this much to me.
Hopefully, tomorrow, after another appointment with my psychiatrist, I'll be the proud owner of a legal, legitimate prescription for something to help me with my bingeing/c&s cravings...That would put a whole lot of minds at ease, I'm sure, not the least of which my very own.
I'm considering waiting to take the Topa til then. Couldn't hurt. I've been waiting this long, right?
Right.
Umm...Here's something funny for you:
Hope you all are well! I'm going to do my best to catch up on bloggage and comment as much as possible...dang it, if life weren't so busy I'd spend a heck of a lot more time on my ass in front of this computer screen... ;)
<3
Baby steps.
Today has been great. I woke up at 137.0 (three pounds down from the weekend) and worked out for about half an hour before coming to school. I sit here now, in the middle of a crowded cafeteria full of delicious, fatty temptations, with complete confidence in myself. I can do this. I will beat this. I am better than food.
I've taken to doing this quite a bit, actually. When I start to crave something, anything, and it's not one of my safe, self-planned-menu foods, I totally bitch it out in my head. "Fuck that food! What the fuck is it, anyway? FOOD. An inanimate object. *I*, however, am a STRONG motherfucking woman, stronger than I've ever been before, and *I* have the power to overcome a simple notion, a thought, a craving. Why? Because it's FOOD...and *I*...I'm just THAT badass."
Something to that effect.
It's working so far.
I took some pictures of my goal jeans for you. I keep them on my phone as motivation, reminding myself that if I CHOOSE to do so, I CAN and WILL be small enough to wear them, beautifully, effortlessly slinking into them, I'll be THAT thin.
Just to give you an idea of how small they are, there's my hand for reference.
And the best part? Check out the original price...
yeah...crazy, right? Who in their right mind...? But you see the discount tag? $4.98. YEAH. Yeah. That's right. I'm a bargain shopper. It's what I do.
Well, sometimes. Sometimes I just go crazy when I've got a little extra money and just buy everything under the sun no matter how much it costs because hey, I've got money, right? ...and for some reason, in that flurry of cash, in that rush of adrenaline, I'm a shopping-junkie, well on her way to a room full of cool, new stuff and a head full of buyer's remorse. That doesn't happen THAT often.
So my Topamax came in. I haven't tried it yet. It's at K's house. I'm scared and ecstatic and relieved and anxious and excited all at the same time. I want it to work its magic on me the way it has Zen, help me lose 20 lbs in a month, make all my sweets taste like dirt...But even so, I do recognize that various medications affect different people in different ways, especially considering I'm taking other pills along with it. I KNOW! already...so please don't feel the need to preach. I understand that there is an incalculable risk in experimenting with drugs like this...and I know you all just want me to be responsible, safe, etc. I will be as safe and as responsible as I ever am.
Fact of the matter is this: We're all desperate. We're all obsessed. We are all..well, most of us..mentally ill, emotionally disturbed enough to starve ourselves daily, for years, or to force our fingers and our toothbrushes down our throats again and again, hating ourselves with such passion as is comparable to nothing else on this earth... all in the name of a goal we can hardly manage to describe to another without choking up...It means THIS much to us.
It means this much to me.
Hopefully, tomorrow, after another appointment with my psychiatrist, I'll be the proud owner of a legal, legitimate prescription for something to help me with my bingeing/c&s cravings...That would put a whole lot of minds at ease, I'm sure, not the least of which my very own.
I'm considering waiting to take the Topa til then. Couldn't hurt. I've been waiting this long, right?
Right.
Umm...Here's something funny for you:
Hope you all are well! I'm going to do my best to catch up on bloggage and comment as much as possible...dang it, if life weren't so busy I'd spend a heck of a lot more time on my ass in front of this computer screen... ;)
<3
Sunday, March 28, 2010
*sigh...* And here we are again.
140.6.
I've officially hit 140...again. A-fucking-gain. 140 was my most menacing and difficult plateau to break, lasting for months, even.
I remember how ecstatic I was to first see 139. It felt amazing.
And then 138. Down further, I was on a roll, all the way to 131. I had ALMOST MADE IT. Almost reached the 120s. So fucking close.
And here...I am...Again.
140.
With no one to blame but myself.
I honestly don't want to talk about last night. I went out with my best friend, her boyfriend, and my little one. We went to Carino's. Up until we pulled into the parking lot, I had full intentions of not having a thing, just an iced tea, thank you, because I'd already eaten enough to last me three days earlier in the afternoon.
We arrive, and something enters my mind; that little voice that says, "You've already fucked up today enough, may as well keep going. Plus, your friends are here, and you hardly EVER get to go out to a restaurant at all...just let loose TONIGHT and then start fresh tomorrow."
Starting fresh tomorrow is always a good concept at the end of a long failure of a day, isn't it? The hope of a clean slate is often enough to help pull oneself out of a pit of self-deprecation and guilt...at least there's TOMORROW.
It doesn't work if you're telling yourself "There's always tomorrow!" every...single...night.
Fuck, P.D., gain some self-control and step the fuck up.
You guys are so awesome, so sweet, for genuinely caring for me the way you do. Your words are light to my day, you know? I see that you believe in me and it makes me want to be a better person, and to believe in myself. It's so hard...but your comments mean the world to me, and make it at least a little easier to TRY and keep my chin up. Thank you.
So...aside from the disgustingly disappointing circumstances on the weight/body-image front, other shit has been going down, too. This morning I woke up to a bunch of little dried bloody crusties all around the front of my lip piercing. I must have bitten the back of the stud in my sleep or something and pulled it too hard. I gently rinsed away the blood and examined the hole itself, seeing that the scar tissue from the inside of my lip was now joined by another tiny bit of bubbly scar, this one on the outside. This thing is going on 8 weeks healing and should, by normal standards, be healed by now. Mine isn't. Not even close. In fact, it's only gotten worse over time, mainly due to my compulsive c&s habits and my carelessness in regards to the daily salt-water soaks I *should* have been doing this whole time...
Anyway, I get back in bed and kiss K's cheek, mentioning the crusty little scab behind the ball on my labret stud. His response? "Oh, yeah...You should take that out."
I'm like, "What?" Honestly? I mean, really. I've put about $130 and countless hours and extensive stress into this piercing. I love the way it looks and I've been anxious to see what it would look like with a ring instead of a stud. And now...I won't. Because I took it out.
"I just don't like the way it feels when I kiss you." That's all he had to say. I live for this man's kisses. If it bothers him now, it'll bother him forever, and that's just about as long as I plan to keep him around. :P
So it's gone. Just like that. Meh. It'll take me a little while to stop playing with the empty scarred spot with my tongue just because that's what my tongue always did when there was jewelry in it. What I'm really bothered with is this:
I bought some antiseptic wash to hopefully keep the open wound from getting worse, and some Mederma for fading the scar...also *hopefully*. As you can see, it's not all THAT noticeable as long as I'm not trying to show it off, or as long as you're not much shorter than I am, looking up at me or something. This doesn't detract at all from the fact that I am, like so many of us, exceedingly self-conscious as it is. Knowing there's a new scar on my face and that it's right beneath one of my favorite features doesn't exactly feel awesome.
RIP, pretty labret piercing.
I spent most of my day down and depressed, feeling so fat and disgusting that lying in the dark bedroom all day seemed like the best idea in the world...even though the weather couldn't be more perfect today. 68 and sunny, slight breeze, not a cloud in the sky. Gorgeous. But I'm a whale. I feel so huge. I want to grip the fat all over me and just tear it away, cut it off, beat the living shit out of myself and scream, "WAKE UP! STOP EATING!" I hate how it's so simple, and yet so complex. K finally said something about it today. He listens to me bitch and moan enough about how hard it is, blah blah, etc., but he really doesn't grasp the pain that's behind this, the obsession that hurts more than I can ever put into words (and I love me some words).
"I don't mind hearing about it when you're making progress and doing all of the right things to reach your goals, but when...well, when people complain about their own actions, it's pretty annoying. Like, if you're not in control of yourself, then who can be?" I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him everything. I wish with all of my heart I could. Instead, I just sighed...stared at him, felt the sting in my eyes, and hugged him hard, letting my frustration fall in teardrops on his shirt so he wouldn't have to see my mascara run. And then we went grocery shopping. Good time to do that, I guess, when I'm so immersed in hating my body that not even the most tempting of foods seems even remotely appetizing.
I've decided that I'll take the Topamax when it gets here. If it gets here. I know there are risks involved but I can't do this anymore. I can't stand it. I eat so much that my body hurts and then I keep going because it numbs everything else. I hate this. I need help. Professional, prescription help. I'll get it. I have to.
This is too long and my computer is too hot so it's freezing up in the most irritating of ways.
All of my love to you, my strong beauties...
<3
I've officially hit 140...again. A-fucking-gain. 140 was my most menacing and difficult plateau to break, lasting for months, even.
I remember how ecstatic I was to first see 139. It felt amazing.
And then 138. Down further, I was on a roll, all the way to 131. I had ALMOST MADE IT. Almost reached the 120s. So fucking close.
And here...I am...Again.
140.
With no one to blame but myself.
I honestly don't want to talk about last night. I went out with my best friend, her boyfriend, and my little one. We went to Carino's. Up until we pulled into the parking lot, I had full intentions of not having a thing, just an iced tea, thank you, because I'd already eaten enough to last me three days earlier in the afternoon.
We arrive, and something enters my mind; that little voice that says, "You've already fucked up today enough, may as well keep going. Plus, your friends are here, and you hardly EVER get to go out to a restaurant at all...just let loose TONIGHT and then start fresh tomorrow."
Starting fresh tomorrow is always a good concept at the end of a long failure of a day, isn't it? The hope of a clean slate is often enough to help pull oneself out of a pit of self-deprecation and guilt...at least there's TOMORROW.
It doesn't work if you're telling yourself "There's always tomorrow!" every...single...night.
Fuck, P.D., gain some self-control and step the fuck up.
You guys are so awesome, so sweet, for genuinely caring for me the way you do. Your words are light to my day, you know? I see that you believe in me and it makes me want to be a better person, and to believe in myself. It's so hard...but your comments mean the world to me, and make it at least a little easier to TRY and keep my chin up. Thank you.
So...aside from the disgustingly disappointing circumstances on the weight/body-image front, other shit has been going down, too. This morning I woke up to a bunch of little dried bloody crusties all around the front of my lip piercing. I must have bitten the back of the stud in my sleep or something and pulled it too hard. I gently rinsed away the blood and examined the hole itself, seeing that the scar tissue from the inside of my lip was now joined by another tiny bit of bubbly scar, this one on the outside. This thing is going on 8 weeks healing and should, by normal standards, be healed by now. Mine isn't. Not even close. In fact, it's only gotten worse over time, mainly due to my compulsive c&s habits and my carelessness in regards to the daily salt-water soaks I *should* have been doing this whole time...
Anyway, I get back in bed and kiss K's cheek, mentioning the crusty little scab behind the ball on my labret stud. His response? "Oh, yeah...You should take that out."
I'm like, "What?" Honestly? I mean, really. I've put about $130 and countless hours and extensive stress into this piercing. I love the way it looks and I've been anxious to see what it would look like with a ring instead of a stud. And now...I won't. Because I took it out.
"I just don't like the way it feels when I kiss you." That's all he had to say. I live for this man's kisses. If it bothers him now, it'll bother him forever, and that's just about as long as I plan to keep him around. :P
So it's gone. Just like that. Meh. It'll take me a little while to stop playing with the empty scarred spot with my tongue just because that's what my tongue always did when there was jewelry in it. What I'm really bothered with is this:
I bought some antiseptic wash to hopefully keep the open wound from getting worse, and some Mederma for fading the scar...also *hopefully*. As you can see, it's not all THAT noticeable as long as I'm not trying to show it off, or as long as you're not much shorter than I am, looking up at me or something. This doesn't detract at all from the fact that I am, like so many of us, exceedingly self-conscious as it is. Knowing there's a new scar on my face and that it's right beneath one of my favorite features doesn't exactly feel awesome.
RIP, pretty labret piercing.
I spent most of my day down and depressed, feeling so fat and disgusting that lying in the dark bedroom all day seemed like the best idea in the world...even though the weather couldn't be more perfect today. 68 and sunny, slight breeze, not a cloud in the sky. Gorgeous. But I'm a whale. I feel so huge. I want to grip the fat all over me and just tear it away, cut it off, beat the living shit out of myself and scream, "WAKE UP! STOP EATING!" I hate how it's so simple, and yet so complex. K finally said something about it today. He listens to me bitch and moan enough about how hard it is, blah blah, etc., but he really doesn't grasp the pain that's behind this, the obsession that hurts more than I can ever put into words (and I love me some words).
"I don't mind hearing about it when you're making progress and doing all of the right things to reach your goals, but when...well, when people complain about their own actions, it's pretty annoying. Like, if you're not in control of yourself, then who can be?" I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell him everything. I wish with all of my heart I could. Instead, I just sighed...stared at him, felt the sting in my eyes, and hugged him hard, letting my frustration fall in teardrops on his shirt so he wouldn't have to see my mascara run. And then we went grocery shopping. Good time to do that, I guess, when I'm so immersed in hating my body that not even the most tempting of foods seems even remotely appetizing.
I've decided that I'll take the Topamax when it gets here. If it gets here. I know there are risks involved but I can't do this anymore. I can't stand it. I eat so much that my body hurts and then I keep going because it numbs everything else. I hate this. I need help. Professional, prescription help. I'll get it. I have to.
This is too long and my computer is too hot so it's freezing up in the most irritating of ways.
All of my love to you, my strong beauties...
<3
Friday, March 26, 2010
I think I've done it...Will it last?
I'm pretty sure I hate eating.
Right now.
I pushed myself even further than I normally would in my c&s bingeing in order to finish all of the foods I had purchased last night... I almost want to list all of the shit on my grocery receipt just so you can marvel at the sheer craziness of ... me.
I had to finish it. I couldn't waste it. I couldn't throw it away. I can't spend money on food and have it near me...without chewing it. Eating it. Something. I don't know why.
I finished it.
And my mouth hurts...so...so much. I'm not full. I'm not hungry. I've spent hours...hours...chewing and spitting. I'm glad the trash can by the curb is so damned big. I have filled three large trash bags with all of the containers (and food) from the past 18 hours.
And I ... at this moment... NEVER want to eat again.
Now I'm just worried. Really worried, actually. Unnecessarily stressed. There's nothing I can do about what I've already done now, but what Zen said has me wondering...and researching... I could, if I were to continue this, theoretically develop hyperinsulinemia, metabolic syndrome, and eventually, diabetes. What..the..fuck.
That makes me sick to my stomach. I'm over here wanting to drive to the nearest drug store to buy some testing strips and a little pricker thing to see what my blood sugar looks like...I wouldn't know the first thing. I'm completely ignorant in this area. I'm just...scared.
I feel depressed and unhealthy right now. What's new, you ask? Well, I suppose I'm always depressed and unhealthy, but right now I feel ACTIVELY unhealthy.
If that makes sense.
I should go.
My back hurts, too. Why? I tend to stand sort of hunched over the table when I c&s...Man, this blows.
Anyone wanna give me a backrub? I have... like $20...left over...after I spent like $80 on foods that never made it to my stomach.
And because I've been depressing enough for now, I'd like to try and make you smile, or at least amuse you slightly:
(I might just rethink my stance on food hate if THIS guy tried his hand at convincing me...) ;)
Love you all...
<3
P.D.
Right now.
I pushed myself even further than I normally would in my c&s bingeing in order to finish all of the foods I had purchased last night... I almost want to list all of the shit on my grocery receipt just so you can marvel at the sheer craziness of ... me.
I had to finish it. I couldn't waste it. I couldn't throw it away. I can't spend money on food and have it near me...without chewing it. Eating it. Something. I don't know why.
I finished it.
And my mouth hurts...so...so much. I'm not full. I'm not hungry. I've spent hours...hours...chewing and spitting. I'm glad the trash can by the curb is so damned big. I have filled three large trash bags with all of the containers (and food) from the past 18 hours.
And I ... at this moment... NEVER want to eat again.
Now I'm just worried. Really worried, actually. Unnecessarily stressed. There's nothing I can do about what I've already done now, but what Zen said has me wondering...and researching... I could, if I were to continue this, theoretically develop hyperinsulinemia, metabolic syndrome, and eventually, diabetes. What..the..fuck.
That makes me sick to my stomach. I'm over here wanting to drive to the nearest drug store to buy some testing strips and a little pricker thing to see what my blood sugar looks like...I wouldn't know the first thing. I'm completely ignorant in this area. I'm just...scared.
I feel depressed and unhealthy right now. What's new, you ask? Well, I suppose I'm always depressed and unhealthy, but right now I feel ACTIVELY unhealthy.
If that makes sense.
I should go.
My back hurts, too. Why? I tend to stand sort of hunched over the table when I c&s...Man, this blows.
Anyone wanna give me a backrub? I have... like $20...left over...after I spent like $80 on foods that never made it to my stomach.
And because I've been depressing enough for now, I'd like to try and make you smile, or at least amuse you slightly:
(I might just rethink my stance on food hate if THIS guy tried his hand at convincing me...) ;)
Love you all...
<3
P.D.
Hey, xEllex! Hopefully you'll follow me and then get this...
Hey...this may or may not work... but this post is actually just a request that xEllex do something about her commenting feature on her totally awesome blog so I can comment on it. :D
Glad to be following you, girl, but there were so many things I wanted to say to you/about your post but it won't let me!
Stay lovely, my dear.
<3
Glad to be following you, girl, but there were so many things I wanted to say to you/about your post but it won't let me!
Stay lovely, my dear.
<3
THE c&s post...and...happy Friday?
P.D. needs to stop c&s...for good.
Has to.
Yesterday, which is managing to creep out of hiding only to spill its nasty way into today, was a wake-up call. An abomination. The death sentence of all of my best-laid plans.
I've been stuck at 136-138 for what seems like forever, despite my efforts in the departments of exercise and restriction (sometimes severe) to try and combat the evil of the flab that persists in my mid-section/lower half.
Nothing is working.
I thought at first that, wow, it simply must be starvation mode, right? Because that's what they all tell us? That's what they're waiting for, isn't it? For us to hit this slump in our weight loss so they can jeer and laugh and point their fat fingers in our faces, just to say, "Told you so!!!"
Yeah, no. You told me I'd stop losing weight if I starved myself, is what you told me. I have not been "properly" starving myself for quite some time, as I allow my binge eating/mia tendencies free reign in my life via nearly constant c&s. This is not...repeat: NOT...okay.
Or maybe I was just looking for an easy out, an external source on which I could lay this blame, for it simply couldn't be ME, right? Because I'd been ingesting so very little for so long, and working out at least four to five times a week, and so this stagnant rut of FAT, well....Well, it had to be something other than what I was doing...right?
Typical me, way to go. Externalizing. I do it without realizing it...in nearly every area of my life. Fuck, that's so right on. Shit, I should be my own therapist. Ha...no, I definitely should NOT. Besides, I like mine. She's superwaycool.
The roof of my mouth is particularly sore from last night. My teeth are sore. The labret piercing that should have been nearly completely healed by now is still forming new bits of scar tissue every day, primarily due to the constant expulsion of masticated food from my mouth. Gross? Yeah, sorry. Oh, and the weirdest thing I've only begun to notice: There are two swollen areas on my throat right beneath my jaw that have been that way for over a month. At first I thought I may be getting sick (swollen lymph nodes and all) but then I realized they weren't going away, and I wasn't sick. I look like a bullfrog. I see now that they're not glands at all, but muscles. Vigorous chewing takes a lot of work, especially when it's done quickly with an effort to be quiet, having to take on very large mouthfuls at once. I've built up my throat muscles. Seriously. I'll try and take a picture for you.
You can see that, right? RIGHT below my jawline. It's much more humongously prominent in person, I assure you.
I must have chewed for nearly two hours, hardly a break, and then slept only to wake up and do it again. I dreamed of the food that awaited me... Who wouldn't? I mean, I only obsessed about it all day yesterday until I got to the store. I only spent an hour trolling the many aisles of forbidden foods that now, suddenly, were NOT forbidden, but ALLOWED!! Just so long as I didn't swallow. Oh, the possibilities! I was like a little P.D. let loose in a candy store...where all the candy was free! Except it was a grocery store. And none of it was free. And there were hundreds of people around, shopping, shopping, shopping for their families, for their friends, perhaps for a party this weekend...Probably NONE of them like me, with my grumbling stomach and weak, hazy feeling of hunger, eyes ablaze with temptation in which I was *GOING TO INDULGE*...
I felt guilty and ecstatic at the same time. My gaze fell upon hundreds upon hundreds of brightly colored packages, boxes, wrappers, and none of it was off limits. I had given myself a free-for-all type of permission...Just go for it! Do it! You won't ever do this again, don't worry...Just this once, take everything you've been wanting, craving, and c&s your heart out...
And this is why there's a pumpkin pie baking in my oven right now, at 7:32 AM.
Yes.
But, if Zen's hunch is correct (and I tend to think her an exceedingly intelligent person), then my c&s bingeing has only served to spike my insulin WAY over what is normal or needed, EVERY day for goodness knows how long I've been doing this. My body stops using fat for fuel? It stores fat rather than burning it? Fuck! That's like...That's certainly on my top ten list of worst nightmares EVER. I daresay it would find a place on MANY of our lists...
And this is why I must stop. How much weight could I have shed by now, were I not sabotaging myself HOURLY with this bullshit? It's just...so strong. The compulsion. The need. It started so quickly, as something fun, even. Hey, I get to taste chocolate cake again! Awesome! Donuts? Fuck, I'm definitely not allowed to have those, but with this...I can? ...It quickly became so much more. Planned binges, before school, at school, in the car, after the gym, as soon as I got home, and before bed. Hoarding food in my room so that no one would know, none could question as to why in the world I'd purchased two dozen donuts for myself...because everyone knows I don't eat that shit. No, I don't. I just...almost eat it.
How am I going to stop? I don't know.
I really don't.
I know that I still have a pie, two pints of ice cream, a half-box of cereal, a mini molten chocolate cake thing, and five frozen waffles to get through. I refuse to waste food, even if it hurts me to consume it. Fucked up? Yes. I know.
Part of me is scared to let this go. It's been the one area of my life in which I was able to relinquish all control, to give in to the part of me that wants to overeat all the time. Another part of me is optimistic (a SMALL part of me) and excited to see how quickly I can lose this flab if I'm restricting properly and NOT chewing constantly. A huge part is wondering if I'll be able to do it.
Has to.
Yesterday, which is managing to creep out of hiding only to spill its nasty way into today, was a wake-up call. An abomination. The death sentence of all of my best-laid plans.
I've been stuck at 136-138 for what seems like forever, despite my efforts in the departments of exercise and restriction (sometimes severe) to try and combat the evil of the flab that persists in my mid-section/lower half.
Nothing is working.
I thought at first that, wow, it simply must be starvation mode, right? Because that's what they all tell us? That's what they're waiting for, isn't it? For us to hit this slump in our weight loss so they can jeer and laugh and point their fat fingers in our faces, just to say, "Told you so!!!"
Yeah, no. You told me I'd stop losing weight if I starved myself, is what you told me. I have not been "properly" starving myself for quite some time, as I allow my binge eating/mia tendencies free reign in my life via nearly constant c&s. This is not...repeat: NOT...okay.
Or maybe I was just looking for an easy out, an external source on which I could lay this blame, for it simply couldn't be ME, right? Because I'd been ingesting so very little for so long, and working out at least four to five times a week, and so this stagnant rut of FAT, well....Well, it had to be something other than what I was doing...right?
Typical me, way to go. Externalizing. I do it without realizing it...in nearly every area of my life. Fuck, that's so right on. Shit, I should be my own therapist. Ha...no, I definitely should NOT. Besides, I like mine. She's superwaycool.
The roof of my mouth is particularly sore from last night. My teeth are sore. The labret piercing that should have been nearly completely healed by now is still forming new bits of scar tissue every day, primarily due to the constant expulsion of masticated food from my mouth. Gross? Yeah, sorry. Oh, and the weirdest thing I've only begun to notice: There are two swollen areas on my throat right beneath my jaw that have been that way for over a month. At first I thought I may be getting sick (swollen lymph nodes and all) but then I realized they weren't going away, and I wasn't sick. I look like a bullfrog. I see now that they're not glands at all, but muscles. Vigorous chewing takes a lot of work, especially when it's done quickly with an effort to be quiet, having to take on very large mouthfuls at once. I've built up my throat muscles. Seriously. I'll try and take a picture for you.
You can see that, right? RIGHT below my jawline. It's much more humongously prominent in person, I assure you.
I must have chewed for nearly two hours, hardly a break, and then slept only to wake up and do it again. I dreamed of the food that awaited me... Who wouldn't? I mean, I only obsessed about it all day yesterday until I got to the store. I only spent an hour trolling the many aisles of forbidden foods that now, suddenly, were NOT forbidden, but ALLOWED!! Just so long as I didn't swallow. Oh, the possibilities! I was like a little P.D. let loose in a candy store...where all the candy was free! Except it was a grocery store. And none of it was free. And there were hundreds of people around, shopping, shopping, shopping for their families, for their friends, perhaps for a party this weekend...Probably NONE of them like me, with my grumbling stomach and weak, hazy feeling of hunger, eyes ablaze with temptation in which I was *GOING TO INDULGE*...
I felt guilty and ecstatic at the same time. My gaze fell upon hundreds upon hundreds of brightly colored packages, boxes, wrappers, and none of it was off limits. I had given myself a free-for-all type of permission...Just go for it! Do it! You won't ever do this again, don't worry...Just this once, take everything you've been wanting, craving, and c&s your heart out...
And this is why there's a pumpkin pie baking in my oven right now, at 7:32 AM.
Yes.
But, if Zen's hunch is correct (and I tend to think her an exceedingly intelligent person), then my c&s bingeing has only served to spike my insulin WAY over what is normal or needed, EVERY day for goodness knows how long I've been doing this. My body stops using fat for fuel? It stores fat rather than burning it? Fuck! That's like...That's certainly on my top ten list of worst nightmares EVER. I daresay it would find a place on MANY of our lists...
And this is why I must stop. How much weight could I have shed by now, were I not sabotaging myself HOURLY with this bullshit? It's just...so strong. The compulsion. The need. It started so quickly, as something fun, even. Hey, I get to taste chocolate cake again! Awesome! Donuts? Fuck, I'm definitely not allowed to have those, but with this...I can? ...It quickly became so much more. Planned binges, before school, at school, in the car, after the gym, as soon as I got home, and before bed. Hoarding food in my room so that no one would know, none could question as to why in the world I'd purchased two dozen donuts for myself...because everyone knows I don't eat that shit. No, I don't. I just...almost eat it.
How am I going to stop? I don't know.
I really don't.
I know that I still have a pie, two pints of ice cream, a half-box of cereal, a mini molten chocolate cake thing, and five frozen waffles to get through. I refuse to waste food, even if it hurts me to consume it. Fucked up? Yes. I know.
Part of me is scared to let this go. It's been the one area of my life in which I was able to relinquish all control, to give in to the part of me that wants to overeat all the time. Another part of me is optimistic (a SMALL part of me) and excited to see how quickly I can lose this flab if I'm restricting properly and NOT chewing constantly. A huge part is wondering if I'll be able to do it.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
I just filled five plastic grocery bags with what I *WOULD* have eaten...but didn't swallow...
*This part was written this morning, right after art class...but I didn't get to post it because the internet connection at school was failing at life...*
So I don't have much time (I've gotta run to an appointment, but I'll be sure to try and post more tonight)... I just wanted to share something with you.
I'm quite puzzled by this. Perhaps you guys could share some effing insight. Hm. Sorry. I'm feeling argumentative, ornery, and bitchy right now. :P
So check it out. Here's a picture I took last night of me looking somewhat thinner:
And here is a picture I took immediately after that one...with me looking... FUCKING HIDEOUS!
I don't get it, to be honest. I really don't. It looks like two different people.
I can't stand it. I have to run, but I love you guys! Hopefully I didn't just blind your lovely beautiful pretty little eyes with my disgusting fat flabberiffic thighs.
And yes...that sort of rhymed.
<3
*****
Okay, and so now...it's...now. 8:38 PM. And I've fasted all day...well, up until about two hours ago. At that point, I proceeded to chew and spit my way through about half a shopping cart full of ice cream, cake, pie, cookies, biscuits with gravy, random frozen entrees, pizza, more cookies, more cake, pasta, and seafood. I'm not even close to kidding. You know...in case you were wondering. So 130 calories to start my day (oatmeal...is...crucial...) and then nothing all day. Pretty decent. For me.
And then. It happened. I broke. It really started yesterday, when my uncle informed me that he'd be out of town for business trip, and I'd have the house to myself for three days. Holy. Fuck. Shit.
My IMMEDIATE reaction?
BINGE BINGE BINGE LIKE A MANIAC, P.D.!!! (No, I don't really refer to myself in my own internal monologues as P.D....But..you know.)
So I spent like $60 on binge food. C&S food. That's a huge fucking waste, isn't it? I'm a horrible piece-of-shit person for doing that, aren't I? Yes. I'm not all that fond of myself for doing that. Now that THAT's out of the way...
I apparently didn't swallow all that much of anything, since I'm not feeling full like I do after traditional binges. Most times, when I have a big c&s session like this (though this one definitely tops all previous episodes), I purge immediately afterward, just to be sure I get rid of anything that may have accidentally meandered on down to my very hungry stomach. Not this time. I'm not alone. My daughter has never been present in the house with me when I've purged, and I will NEVER do it when she's within a five mile radius of this, the aftermath of my failure of self-control. Never never never. Just won't do it. And so here I sit, with a belly *nearly* full of c&s remnants...Fucking ice cream is so hard to spit out. Not because I don't want to, but because it's melty.
The house smells like garlic bread (an entire loaf of it...gone...in and out, within minutes...) and chocolate lava cake (480 calories for ONE tiny palm-sized cake...REALLY glad I didn't actually *eat* that!). Not a good combo, now that I consider it.
So while I was doing all of this (are you wondering why, by any chance? Why do I do this? I'll get around to that eventually...), I started wondering something. What if I were to fast for a week or so, only running on what little I actually swallowed from my c&s sessions...since I can't seem to stop them from occurring anyway...Would I perhaps lose more quickly that way? You know, instead of eating my regular 500 calories a day AND c&s'ing...which I'll usually consider to be a 300 calorie addition to my daily count, just to be safe. That's probably generously overestimating, but I'd rather bet high, ya know?
So yeah... I started thinking about this. But then I realized that most of the stuff I c&s, if not all of it, is junk I'm not "allowed" to eat anyway, like donuts and cinnamon rolls and pasta (all of which were on my menu tonight as well, btw)...and living on inadvertently ingested calories from THOSE foods is really not the best idea. First of all, I'll feel like shit constantly, living on tiny amounts of sugar and carbs. Secondly, if my body is physically starved for any length of time of valuable protein and fiber and whatnot, and then only given those nasty sugars and carbs...chances are I'll only gain more fat, and lose more muscle. Bad news bears, that is. So that's a big fat no. Hm.
This post is already pretty long, seeing as how it included two separate entries. I'll have to save the rest of these thoughts for next time, so as to avoid boring you all to tears. Thanks for reading, as always...
<3
So I don't have much time (I've gotta run to an appointment, but I'll be sure to try and post more tonight)... I just wanted to share something with you.
I'm quite puzzled by this. Perhaps you guys could share some effing insight. Hm. Sorry. I'm feeling argumentative, ornery, and bitchy right now. :P
So check it out. Here's a picture I took last night of me looking somewhat thinner:
And here is a picture I took immediately after that one...with me looking... FUCKING HIDEOUS!
I don't get it, to be honest. I really don't. It looks like two different people.
I can't stand it. I have to run, but I love you guys! Hopefully I didn't just blind your lovely beautiful pretty little eyes with my disgusting fat flabberiffic thighs.
And yes...that sort of rhymed.
<3
*****
Okay, and so now...it's...now. 8:38 PM. And I've fasted all day...well, up until about two hours ago. At that point, I proceeded to chew and spit my way through about half a shopping cart full of ice cream, cake, pie, cookies, biscuits with gravy, random frozen entrees, pizza, more cookies, more cake, pasta, and seafood. I'm not even close to kidding. You know...in case you were wondering. So 130 calories to start my day (oatmeal...is...crucial...) and then nothing all day. Pretty decent. For me.
And then. It happened. I broke. It really started yesterday, when my uncle informed me that he'd be out of town for business trip, and I'd have the house to myself for three days. Holy. Fuck. Shit.
My IMMEDIATE reaction?
BINGE BINGE BINGE LIKE A MANIAC, P.D.!!! (No, I don't really refer to myself in my own internal monologues as P.D....But..you know.)
So I spent like $60 on binge food. C&S food. That's a huge fucking waste, isn't it? I'm a horrible piece-of-shit person for doing that, aren't I? Yes. I'm not all that fond of myself for doing that. Now that THAT's out of the way...
I apparently didn't swallow all that much of anything, since I'm not feeling full like I do after traditional binges. Most times, when I have a big c&s session like this (though this one definitely tops all previous episodes), I purge immediately afterward, just to be sure I get rid of anything that may have accidentally meandered on down to my very hungry stomach. Not this time. I'm not alone. My daughter has never been present in the house with me when I've purged, and I will NEVER do it when she's within a five mile radius of this, the aftermath of my failure of self-control. Never never never. Just won't do it. And so here I sit, with a belly *nearly* full of c&s remnants...Fucking ice cream is so hard to spit out. Not because I don't want to, but because it's melty.
The house smells like garlic bread (an entire loaf of it...gone...in and out, within minutes...) and chocolate lava cake (480 calories for ONE tiny palm-sized cake...REALLY glad I didn't actually *eat* that!). Not a good combo, now that I consider it.
So while I was doing all of this (are you wondering why, by any chance? Why do I do this? I'll get around to that eventually...), I started wondering something. What if I were to fast for a week or so, only running on what little I actually swallowed from my c&s sessions...since I can't seem to stop them from occurring anyway...Would I perhaps lose more quickly that way? You know, instead of eating my regular 500 calories a day AND c&s'ing...which I'll usually consider to be a 300 calorie addition to my daily count, just to be safe. That's probably generously overestimating, but I'd rather bet high, ya know?
So yeah... I started thinking about this. But then I realized that most of the stuff I c&s, if not all of it, is junk I'm not "allowed" to eat anyway, like donuts and cinnamon rolls and pasta (all of which were on my menu tonight as well, btw)...and living on inadvertently ingested calories from THOSE foods is really not the best idea. First of all, I'll feel like shit constantly, living on tiny amounts of sugar and carbs. Secondly, if my body is physically starved for any length of time of valuable protein and fiber and whatnot, and then only given those nasty sugars and carbs...chances are I'll only gain more fat, and lose more muscle. Bad news bears, that is. So that's a big fat no. Hm.
This post is already pretty long, seeing as how it included two separate entries. I'll have to save the rest of these thoughts for next time, so as to avoid boring you all to tears. Thanks for reading, as always...
<3
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Oh, and here's something I just wrote...
...whilst being distracted from my actual poetry assignment...
It's a first draft, but I know you'll forgive my imperfection (you do it all the time, anyway!) :D
Thoughts on Thin
Shall we forgive them? ...for they know not what they do…
Sites…nay, temples! Holy land where disciples are born, models worshipped, disorders desired.
Surely, the intent was never to foster illness in the innocent.
She preaches of the virtues of being rail thin, and of all the beauty, love, that awaits us.
Starvation, glorified, seeks out sustenance in souls searching for meaning, finding instead
Solitude, betrayed by the one Who has promised them so much immortality.
Skinny.
Skeletal.
Sexy?
Safe.
Since when is there gain before we feel pain?
Straighten up, stand tall, suck in your fat, disgusting stomach. Keep yourself empty.
Stay focused. You are not allowed to fail.
Still, there is a part of us all, somewhere, that struggles to remember who we were.
Stoned into silence, she hides; the little girl I saw to be me no longer exists. Lost.
Shall I be lost, too, to a killer so quiet?
So stealthy... I pretend I’m different, that I won’t let Her take me, that I hold the reins.
Slinking through shadows, I will be as a ghost, a breath, a shade lighter than sun.
Skinny I shall be. Skinny I will stay. My ribs cage a heart that beats still today, and so I go on.
It's a first draft, but I know you'll forgive my imperfection (you do it all the time, anyway!) :D
Thoughts on Thin
Shall we forgive them? ...for they know not what they do…
Sites…nay, temples! Holy land where disciples are born, models worshipped, disorders desired.
Surely, the intent was never to foster illness in the innocent.
She preaches of the virtues of being rail thin, and of all the beauty, love, that awaits us.
Starvation, glorified, seeks out sustenance in souls searching for meaning, finding instead
Solitude, betrayed by the one Who has promised them so much immortality.
Skinny.
Skeletal.
Sexy?
Safe.
Since when is there gain before we feel pain?
Straighten up, stand tall, suck in your fat, disgusting stomach. Keep yourself empty.
Stay focused. You are not allowed to fail.
Still, there is a part of us all, somewhere, that struggles to remember who we were.
Stoned into silence, she hides; the little girl I saw to be me no longer exists. Lost.
Shall I be lost, too, to a killer so quiet?
So stealthy... I pretend I’m different, that I won’t let Her take me, that I hold the reins.
Slinking through shadows, I will be as a ghost, a breath, a shade lighter than sun.
Skinny I shall be. Skinny I will stay. My ribs cage a heart that beats still today, and so I go on.
This post may or may not bore you to DEATH...Probably.
I'm considering [trying to] going back to weighing myself once a week again. I did that for a little while...but it drove me insane. I couldn't stand not knowing, at all times. But because we're women (well, most of us...No male discrimination from me!), our weight is bound to fluctuate here and there, some of us experiencing it more than others. There are a few of us, it would seem *cough* Sottile! *cough* who can see a pretty consistent drop from day to day, from morning to evening... Lol, you KNOW I adore you, girl. ;) I just know that with MY body, I can wake up at 135, drink a couple glasses of water and have a slice of apple, and weigh in at 140 by 6 PM. I'm serious. It's insane.
This is why I'm thinking it would be best for my sanity to weigh only once or twice a week, and then average that, maybe, after a month, to assess my progress. I realize this is an entirely radical idea, and that it very well could fail, falling flat on its face before I even give it a fair chance, just because I'm ridiculously impatient and tend to jump to conclusions FAR too quickly in any/every situation. Example: "Wait...what? 136.8?? OMG, I am getting fucking obese, I had better just give up now and eat a fucking smorgasbord of donuts, cinnamon rolls, and kolaches for breakfast because all hope is CERTAINLY lost, if I restricted and still GAINED..."
ComPLETEly illogical, yes. That's me, in the shell of a nut. And you know? I'm okay with it. It's just the way I roll. Cinnamon style.
I'm...retarded...
Umm...what else... So yes, I consumed approximately 650 calories this morning for breakfast alone. I then decided, after having worn my heart rate monitoring chest belt thingie since 7 AM and seeing that I'd already burned 587 by 11 AM, that I can still come out ahead by the end of the day, as long as I don't continue to eat like it's my job. I have to be VERY careful. As you ALL know, a bad start to any day can very quickly and very easily turn into a day-long binge fest, should you let it. I have to keep in mind my goals, my strength, the ability to resist and starve and how WONDERFUL it feels to be hungry and dizzy and lightheaded in my perfect emptiness. Like a balloon...except not a big, round fat balloon. More like one of those long skinny ones they use at kids' birthday parties to make weiner dogs and stuff.
Okay, so that's not a very flattering thought, either. Not at least when I'm comparing MYSELF to it.
And I can't help but share *these* with you now, since I found them in my image search and found them riotously entertaining:
Soooooo... odd...
SOOOOooooOOOO cute!!!
Moving on...
Moving on to what, though? I mean, honestly? All of the things that are jumbling around and bouncing in circles in my head seem so trite and boring and mundane...I feel like I haven't been reading nearly enough of your postings, my lovelies. I shall go do that now. I will tell you, though, that your comments totally make my day, every day. Seriously. I check my email all excitedly, awaiting new comments, like a five-year-old running down the stairs on Christmas morning (except that we never had stairs cuz we always lived in a trailer or something, umm...so...Whatever. I can pretend and SO CAN YOU! :P)
I wanted to take a picture for you today, but I probably look like trash. You wanna see anyway? Hmm... Lemme see if I can't get one. You can see how I look without a shower, hastily applied makeup thrown on my face, all after walking through the rain for fifteen minutes on my way to a class that starts too early for a mommy who can't get a certain toddler from waking her up multiple times for no apparent reason... I wince at the run-on-iness of that sentence...Bad English major, Bad P.D.! :P
And there you have it. That's me. RIGHT NOW. Ha...That's me wanting a bagel cuz I'm sitting RIGHT outside the stupid bagel shop at school. Highly suggestible. Good thing my stomach is so angry with me for eating earlier that it's fighting my mind with a heavy feeling of nausea. Take that, fucking Binge Monster!
Umm...Bye?
;)
<3
This is why I'm thinking it would be best for my sanity to weigh only once or twice a week, and then average that, maybe, after a month, to assess my progress. I realize this is an entirely radical idea, and that it very well could fail, falling flat on its face before I even give it a fair chance, just because I'm ridiculously impatient and tend to jump to conclusions FAR too quickly in any/every situation. Example: "Wait...what? 136.8?? OMG, I am getting fucking obese, I had better just give up now and eat a fucking smorgasbord of donuts, cinnamon rolls, and kolaches for breakfast because all hope is CERTAINLY lost, if I restricted and still GAINED..."
ComPLETEly illogical, yes. That's me, in the shell of a nut. And you know? I'm okay with it. It's just the way I roll. Cinnamon style.
I'm...retarded...
Umm...what else... So yes, I consumed approximately 650 calories this morning for breakfast alone. I then decided, after having worn my heart rate monitoring chest belt thingie since 7 AM and seeing that I'd already burned 587 by 11 AM, that I can still come out ahead by the end of the day, as long as I don't continue to eat like it's my job. I have to be VERY careful. As you ALL know, a bad start to any day can very quickly and very easily turn into a day-long binge fest, should you let it. I have to keep in mind my goals, my strength, the ability to resist and starve and how WONDERFUL it feels to be hungry and dizzy and lightheaded in my perfect emptiness. Like a balloon...except not a big, round fat balloon. More like one of those long skinny ones they use at kids' birthday parties to make weiner dogs and stuff.
Okay, so that's not a very flattering thought, either. Not at least when I'm comparing MYSELF to it.
And I can't help but share *these* with you now, since I found them in my image search and found them riotously entertaining:
Soooooo... odd...
SOOOOooooOOOO cute!!!
Moving on...
Moving on to what, though? I mean, honestly? All of the things that are jumbling around and bouncing in circles in my head seem so trite and boring and mundane...I feel like I haven't been reading nearly enough of your postings, my lovelies. I shall go do that now. I will tell you, though, that your comments totally make my day, every day. Seriously. I check my email all excitedly, awaiting new comments, like a five-year-old running down the stairs on Christmas morning (except that we never had stairs cuz we always lived in a trailer or something, umm...so...Whatever. I can pretend and SO CAN YOU! :P)
I wanted to take a picture for you today, but I probably look like trash. You wanna see anyway? Hmm... Lemme see if I can't get one. You can see how I look without a shower, hastily applied makeup thrown on my face, all after walking through the rain for fifteen minutes on my way to a class that starts too early for a mommy who can't get a certain toddler from waking her up multiple times for no apparent reason... I wince at the run-on-iness of that sentence...Bad English major, Bad P.D.! :P
And there you have it. That's me. RIGHT NOW. Ha...That's me wanting a bagel cuz I'm sitting RIGHT outside the stupid bagel shop at school. Highly suggestible. Good thing my stomach is so angry with me for eating earlier that it's fighting my mind with a heavy feeling of nausea. Take that, fucking Binge Monster!
Umm...Bye?
;)
<3
Monday, March 22, 2010
My metabolism make-a me CRAZY!
135.6.
That's what the scale tells me this morning.
I should be rejoicing, right? Instead of questioning...
I can justify just about anything (as many of us are apt to do in times of desperation or confusion) and I can usually come up with a relatively logical explanation for the many odd little circumstances and events in my daily life...
..but honestly? I've gotta stop making up shit.
I see the number on the scale and I step off. I wait. I step back on. This is normal, right? Sure, everyone does this, five, maybe even eleven times...
Okay, maybe not eleven.
It doesn't change. 135.6, it says, and I'm officially confuzzled. Wasn't it 138.something yesterday? And didn't I consume at least 2,200 calories yesterday, as well? Didn't I end my night with a piece of chocolate, a bowl of cereal, string cheese, and two handfuls of crackers?
And it's down?
My metabolism, see...It likes to fuck with my head. I starved myself throughout last week, only to see the SAME 137/138 on the scale by the week's end. I felt so...defeated. I was already physically weak from negative intake... and now it was after my determination. (Don't know what "IT" is, but IT's something evil.) All of my work, all of my effort, for nothing? To see not even an ounce of permanent loss?
And so I ate. I didn't full-on binge, but I definitely ate some things I shouldn't have, and I most certainly ate FAR beyond the point of being full. I even let myself have/punished myself with a 400 calorie Frappucino. And...now? I weigh less.
My rationalization? I may have put my body into what can be seen as the beginnings of the notorious "starvation mode" (I add quotations of doubt here because I'm still not sure I believe in this BS) by starving so well for the past six or seven days... Eating just little enough to tell my body to start storing fat rather than burn it. Thus, the stagnation of the scale. Then, just *maybe*...my eating over 1,700 for two days in a row reminded it that all is well in P.D.ville and that it's okay to go ahead and stop holding onto EVERY SINGLE THING I put into my mouth/body.
Hm. I'd like to think that my hypothesis is correct, but there's really no way to tell. I wish there was. You remember the Magic School Bus? Those books, that cartoon? Wasn't it great, how they could just shrink the fuck outta their little yellow school bus and zoom and zip right up someone's left nostril to see what was goin' on in their brain?
Yeah, they should invent that. (Once again, I'm not sure who "they" are, but "they" should be wealthy intellectuals with school transportation invention prowess...) Yes. That would be mighty convenient, no?
So I'm fairly sure I failed my chemistry exam today. Scratch that... I'm positive I did. I'd be willing to bet money on it. I don't have very much money. That should give you some indication of how certain I am of my own failure.
Whatever. I really didn't have the chance/motivation/desire to study for that exam. I hate chemistry. The entire time I was reading my chem book, little B (bless her perfect, innocent, beautiful little heart) was asking me if she could help me study. I asked her how she intended to help me. She said that I could write a word, and then teach her how to write it.
And so I did.
Of course, this took about twenty minutes and had absolutely jack shit to do with chemical formulas, ionic compounds, fuel cell batteries, etc., but all in all, I think it was a FAR more enriching experience than any of that other shit could have afforded us.
Moral of the story?
Chemistry sucks and being a parent first is ALWAYS more important.
So I may have to take the class again next semester. Hopefully I'll get a better professor and everything will be just dandy... or maybe I'll take astronomy.
You may think that chemistry would be more useful in life, but I'd have to disagree. Who the heck DOESN'T want to go to a dinner party and, whilst sipping on fancy wine and chowing down on expensive caviar, be lectured in the awe-inspiring science of how frickin' badass I am because I know the names of every single star in Orion's sexy muscular constellation bod? Hmm?
All right, I should go. Sorry, long-ish post. I've gotta go write a sonnet for poetry class and then read a chapter on how cool odes are. Yeah. Odes.
Hope you're all just wonderful! Can't wait to catch up with all of your stuff.
<3
That's what the scale tells me this morning.
I should be rejoicing, right? Instead of questioning...
I can justify just about anything (as many of us are apt to do in times of desperation or confusion) and I can usually come up with a relatively logical explanation for the many odd little circumstances and events in my daily life...
..but honestly? I've gotta stop making up shit.
I see the number on the scale and I step off. I wait. I step back on. This is normal, right? Sure, everyone does this, five, maybe even eleven times...
Okay, maybe not eleven.
It doesn't change. 135.6, it says, and I'm officially confuzzled. Wasn't it 138.something yesterday? And didn't I consume at least 2,200 calories yesterday, as well? Didn't I end my night with a piece of chocolate, a bowl of cereal, string cheese, and two handfuls of crackers?
And it's down?
My metabolism, see...It likes to fuck with my head. I starved myself throughout last week, only to see the SAME 137/138 on the scale by the week's end. I felt so...defeated. I was already physically weak from negative intake... and now it was after my determination. (Don't know what "IT" is, but IT's something evil.) All of my work, all of my effort, for nothing? To see not even an ounce of permanent loss?
And so I ate. I didn't full-on binge, but I definitely ate some things I shouldn't have, and I most certainly ate FAR beyond the point of being full. I even let myself have/punished myself with a 400 calorie Frappucino. And...now? I weigh less.
My rationalization? I may have put my body into what can be seen as the beginnings of the notorious "starvation mode" (I add quotations of doubt here because I'm still not sure I believe in this BS) by starving so well for the past six or seven days... Eating just little enough to tell my body to start storing fat rather than burn it. Thus, the stagnation of the scale. Then, just *maybe*...my eating over 1,700 for two days in a row reminded it that all is well in P.D.ville and that it's okay to go ahead and stop holding onto EVERY SINGLE THING I put into my mouth/body.
Hm. I'd like to think that my hypothesis is correct, but there's really no way to tell. I wish there was. You remember the Magic School Bus? Those books, that cartoon? Wasn't it great, how they could just shrink the fuck outta their little yellow school bus and zoom and zip right up someone's left nostril to see what was goin' on in their brain?
Yeah, they should invent that. (Once again, I'm not sure who "they" are, but "they" should be wealthy intellectuals with school transportation invention prowess...) Yes. That would be mighty convenient, no?
So I'm fairly sure I failed my chemistry exam today. Scratch that... I'm positive I did. I'd be willing to bet money on it. I don't have very much money. That should give you some indication of how certain I am of my own failure.
Whatever. I really didn't have the chance/motivation/desire to study for that exam. I hate chemistry. The entire time I was reading my chem book, little B (bless her perfect, innocent, beautiful little heart) was asking me if she could help me study. I asked her how she intended to help me. She said that I could write a word, and then teach her how to write it.
And so I did.
Of course, this took about twenty minutes and had absolutely jack shit to do with chemical formulas, ionic compounds, fuel cell batteries, etc., but all in all, I think it was a FAR more enriching experience than any of that other shit could have afforded us.
Moral of the story?
Chemistry sucks and being a parent first is ALWAYS more important.
So I may have to take the class again next semester. Hopefully I'll get a better professor and everything will be just dandy... or maybe I'll take astronomy.
You may think that chemistry would be more useful in life, but I'd have to disagree. Who the heck DOESN'T want to go to a dinner party and, whilst sipping on fancy wine and chowing down on expensive caviar, be lectured in the awe-inspiring science of how frickin' badass I am because I know the names of every single star in Orion's sexy muscular constellation bod? Hmm?
All right, I should go. Sorry, long-ish post. I've gotta go write a sonnet for poetry class and then read a chapter on how cool odes are. Yeah. Odes.
Hope you're all just wonderful! Can't wait to catch up with all of your stuff.
<3
Saturday, March 20, 2010
All day long, I've been snacking...
...mostly vegetables, a little pasta when I made dinner for K, and then a few pieces of fruit...oatmeal for breakfast...some cereal. All day. Just munching away. Barely allowing hunger to creep in before immediately satisfying it, rather than letting it make me floaty and lovely and thin.
*sigh*
Such is the weekend. Nearly every weekend goes this way. No bueno. Oh. And I forgot to mention an apple, sliced, with peanut butter. Yes. Peanut butter.
As I was eating it (only two tbsp, so 190 cal...but still!!) I actually thought, for just one fleeting moment, "You know, peanut butter isn't all that evil...as long as you don't overdo it, it's really actually pretty okay..." Uhhh...
Who died and made me president...nay, QUEEN!...of Crazyville?
What the hell? I mean, honestly...
I've just been in a weird mode all day. I literally spent my entire day on this couch. How lame can I get, huh? No exercise, probably close to 1,200 calories. Oh wait...then there's my vodka and Sprite Zero sitting over here... Yep. Gotta add those in there too, huh?
I'm still puzzled over here over the apparent slimness of certain parts of me, the complete failure of the scale to notice this, and the completely hideous fatness of other parts of me. Don't get me wrong, I adore the comments you guys leave me...but I'm actually, in all reality...really huge. Seriously. Ugh. I so want to leave a more complete picture for you...One that shows the truth...But I'm so scared of it, too. I want you to see why I must try so hard... My upper body is being so good to me, behaving and showing the fruits of my efforts...Everything else... GAH. So bad. I swear, I carry all of my weight below my belly button. My top half could honestly pass for a decent thin human being. The other... seemingly hopeless.
So man...yeah...I went from 99 to 102 today? Wow!!
Followers, I mean.
Ha.
I just reread that and thought how fucking INCREDIBLE it would be if that sentence had been formed in reference to my weight...Fuuuuuuuuuuck....
K is asleep and I'm sitting on his couch (only my fat ass's FAVORITE PLACE TO BE!!) watching Comedy Central. It's 9:51 PM on a Saturday night. Watching Grandma's Boy. I feel like my brain is out fishin'. Put up a sign and all.
Ah well. I'm sorry to have bored you...but just in case I entertained/amused you or disgusted/bothered you, I am glad and/or apologize, respectively.
Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing you are.
?
I should leave before I make any less sense.
<3
*sigh*
Such is the weekend. Nearly every weekend goes this way. No bueno. Oh. And I forgot to mention an apple, sliced, with peanut butter. Yes. Peanut butter.
As I was eating it (only two tbsp, so 190 cal...but still!!) I actually thought, for just one fleeting moment, "You know, peanut butter isn't all that evil...as long as you don't overdo it, it's really actually pretty okay..." Uhhh...
Who died and made me president...nay, QUEEN!...of Crazyville?
What the hell? I mean, honestly...
I've just been in a weird mode all day. I literally spent my entire day on this couch. How lame can I get, huh? No exercise, probably close to 1,200 calories. Oh wait...then there's my vodka and Sprite Zero sitting over here... Yep. Gotta add those in there too, huh?
I'm still puzzled over here over the apparent slimness of certain parts of me, the complete failure of the scale to notice this, and the completely hideous fatness of other parts of me. Don't get me wrong, I adore the comments you guys leave me...but I'm actually, in all reality...really huge. Seriously. Ugh. I so want to leave a more complete picture for you...One that shows the truth...But I'm so scared of it, too. I want you to see why I must try so hard... My upper body is being so good to me, behaving and showing the fruits of my efforts...Everything else... GAH. So bad. I swear, I carry all of my weight below my belly button. My top half could honestly pass for a decent thin human being. The other... seemingly hopeless.
So man...yeah...I went from 99 to 102 today? Wow!!
Followers, I mean.
Ha.
I just reread that and thought how fucking INCREDIBLE it would be if that sentence had been formed in reference to my weight...Fuuuuuuuuuuck....
K is asleep and I'm sitting on his couch (only my fat ass's FAVORITE PLACE TO BE!!) watching Comedy Central. It's 9:51 PM on a Saturday night. Watching Grandma's Boy. I feel like my brain is out fishin'. Put up a sign and all.
Ah well. I'm sorry to have bored you...but just in case I entertained/amused you or disgusted/bothered you, I am glad and/or apologize, respectively.
Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing you are.
?
I should leave before I make any less sense.
<3
Ah! 99 followers! That's ... awesome! Also, I'm all over the place...
Wouldn't it be cool if a kajillion balloons and ten metric tons of sparkly confetti exploded from the ceiling JUST as soon as my blog hit 100 followers?
Yeeeaaah...That would kick some major ass.
Alisson/Anonymous...You rock, lady. Thank you so much for following me and for leaving that comment. You really made my morning! So glad that my ramblings are inspiring to you. :D Thank you!
So this morning I'm feeling nauseous...again. And no, I'm not pregnant (wouldn't that be amazing and devastating all at the same time?) but it sure does feel like it...that damn scale won't go down! I have been doing such a good job with my eating...and still...136/137 won't go away. I'm honestly not sure what to think. I see the evidence of lost fat everywhere, though. My pants are fitting better and my ribs and shoulders are doing what they're supposed to do... I'm going to hope that it's muscle mass that's showing up on the scale (I've upped my protein intake ever since I found this delicious chocolate protein stuff for 100 calories per serving) but I'll by NO means give up with my super-low intake. I can't give up. I'm seeing changes in myself and loving it, and I'm doing the best I can to avoid letting that scale dictate my mood. I even took a picture for you ladies:
I know I've gotten worse when I can look at that, see myself, and see failure. I'm disgusted with what I see there, and repulsed, and reminded of how much further I have to go. I know I'm improving...I have to be. But my mind is fighting that. My eyes glance over at thinspo pictures of women with ribs not even close to that visible, and yet...How are they so much more beautiful?
My psyche hates me. My stomach hates that Dunkin' Donuts commercial.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, I feel like I'm gonna hurl. Wtf, mate? I don't get it. I'm taking L-Carnitine, too, in liquid form, so maybe that's upsetting my tummy. Meh... At least it makes it nearly impossible to want to eat anything, all this throwy-uppyness going on.
Speaking of which...Zen, I'm sorry to disappoint yet again...but yesterday marked my third consecutive day of purging after a c/s binge. Thing is, it's always been an "emergency only" kind of thing...until recently. But when I c/s and then find myself sitting there, guesstimating the number of calories I possibly accidentally ingested... I can't stand it. I can't bear the thought of not having a concrete number to write in my calorie count journal, and so I immediately feel that overwhelming compulsion to get rid of it, all of it, just in case. Upside is that there's usually very little in there. Just a few bites worth. Quick and easy. And a horrible habit. Answer? STOP the goddamn chewing, P.D.!!! Seriously, though. I've gotta stop it. For some reason, I'm feeling like it's going to need to be a gradual process. Like if I quit cold turkey I'll just be setting myself up for failure.
I tried to have a serious heart-to-heart with K today about my body-image issues/eating disorder...It wasn't a train wreck, really, but the conversation really could have been more productive. I couldn't put things into words the way I needed in order to really convey to him accurately how I feel ALL THE TIME...so I gave up. I felt so stupid, so childish... "Durrr, this sucks 'cuz I hurt all the time, and I'm starving myself daily and I can't stop...but that's okay 'cuz I don't want to stop, so...I guess we're done talking now." I felt myself floundering about in my language and thought processes and just stopped. His response? In the most well-meaning voice, but still tinged with lack of understanding: "Babe, I just want you to eat healthy, you know?"
...
*sigh*
"Yes, babe. I know."
Anyway...
I feel like I'm failing at writing today. I apologize. I'm not feeling like being awake right now. My shoulder blades hurt my back right now, since that layer of fat is dissolving and this couch is firm-ish...I like that. I love that they're sharp enough to cause me discomfort. Ha. Twisted, much?
I should go now. We're supposed to go play some board games or something here in a few...it's a rainy day, so our hiking plans are shot. That's okay; I'd rather not test this nausea on the side of a rocky cliff face.
Hope you ladies are well... <3
EDIT: You know what's fucking disgusting?
My BMI.
You've got to be kidding me. I haven't calculated it in forever.
21.6...
Twenty...
One...
Point...
FUCKING SIX?
Sorry. I apologize for my outburst.
The day is half gone and I'm at 140 calories.
If that number doesn't keep me from eating more, I don't know what will.
Yeeeaaah...That would kick some major ass.
Alisson/Anonymous...You rock, lady. Thank you so much for following me and for leaving that comment. You really made my morning! So glad that my ramblings are inspiring to you. :D Thank you!
So this morning I'm feeling nauseous...again. And no, I'm not pregnant (wouldn't that be amazing and devastating all at the same time?) but it sure does feel like it...that damn scale won't go down! I have been doing such a good job with my eating...and still...136/137 won't go away. I'm honestly not sure what to think. I see the evidence of lost fat everywhere, though. My pants are fitting better and my ribs and shoulders are doing what they're supposed to do... I'm going to hope that it's muscle mass that's showing up on the scale (I've upped my protein intake ever since I found this delicious chocolate protein stuff for 100 calories per serving) but I'll by NO means give up with my super-low intake. I can't give up. I'm seeing changes in myself and loving it, and I'm doing the best I can to avoid letting that scale dictate my mood. I even took a picture for you ladies:
I know I've gotten worse when I can look at that, see myself, and see failure. I'm disgusted with what I see there, and repulsed, and reminded of how much further I have to go. I know I'm improving...I have to be. But my mind is fighting that. My eyes glance over at thinspo pictures of women with ribs not even close to that visible, and yet...How are they so much more beautiful?
My psyche hates me. My stomach hates that Dunkin' Donuts commercial.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, I feel like I'm gonna hurl. Wtf, mate? I don't get it. I'm taking L-Carnitine, too, in liquid form, so maybe that's upsetting my tummy. Meh... At least it makes it nearly impossible to want to eat anything, all this throwy-uppyness going on.
Speaking of which...Zen, I'm sorry to disappoint yet again...but yesterday marked my third consecutive day of purging after a c/s binge. Thing is, it's always been an "emergency only" kind of thing...until recently. But when I c/s and then find myself sitting there, guesstimating the number of calories I possibly accidentally ingested... I can't stand it. I can't bear the thought of not having a concrete number to write in my calorie count journal, and so I immediately feel that overwhelming compulsion to get rid of it, all of it, just in case. Upside is that there's usually very little in there. Just a few bites worth. Quick and easy. And a horrible habit. Answer? STOP the goddamn chewing, P.D.!!! Seriously, though. I've gotta stop it. For some reason, I'm feeling like it's going to need to be a gradual process. Like if I quit cold turkey I'll just be setting myself up for failure.
I tried to have a serious heart-to-heart with K today about my body-image issues/eating disorder...It wasn't a train wreck, really, but the conversation really could have been more productive. I couldn't put things into words the way I needed in order to really convey to him accurately how I feel ALL THE TIME...so I gave up. I felt so stupid, so childish... "Durrr, this sucks 'cuz I hurt all the time, and I'm starving myself daily and I can't stop...but that's okay 'cuz I don't want to stop, so...I guess we're done talking now." I felt myself floundering about in my language and thought processes and just stopped. His response? In the most well-meaning voice, but still tinged with lack of understanding: "Babe, I just want you to eat healthy, you know?"
...
*sigh*
"Yes, babe. I know."
Anyway...
I feel like I'm failing at writing today. I apologize. I'm not feeling like being awake right now. My shoulder blades hurt my back right now, since that layer of fat is dissolving and this couch is firm-ish...I like that. I love that they're sharp enough to cause me discomfort. Ha. Twisted, much?
I should go now. We're supposed to go play some board games or something here in a few...it's a rainy day, so our hiking plans are shot. That's okay; I'd rather not test this nausea on the side of a rocky cliff face.
Hope you ladies are well... <3
EDIT: You know what's fucking disgusting?
My BMI.
You've got to be kidding me. I haven't calculated it in forever.
21.6...
Twenty...
One...
Point...
FUCKING SIX?
Sorry. I apologize for my outburst.
The day is half gone and I'm at 140 calories.
If that number doesn't keep me from eating more, I don't know what will.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Mia made my throat all swell-y and big. Yep. Got binge-neck?
I don't have a whole lot of time at the moment...shit, I actually have like...ZERO time...at...this moment...
Coffee, oatmeal (140), and a protein shake (100). Good start to any day, right? Let's hope so.
I want to starve today. I want to feel the hunger and the dizziness of the last week return to me. I lost it yesterday. 1,400 calories, and I felt...satisfied...physically, of course. Mentally? I wanted to punish myself. I purged again, after c/s'ing far too much ice cream. Seems like a blur now. It was to die for. So good. It shouldn't feel that good to do that. Topamax! Hurry! Get here, now! A few more weeks, probably, before it will arrive.
I've been trolling blogs for thinspiration...reminding myself of all that I can/will have when I am thin. The lean, toned torso; skinny-mini legs; AMAZING ribs that show without having to even try and show 'em.
They must be mine.
I must remain hungry today.
600 or bust, baby!
Oh, and the scale tells me 137 again today. I know it's water. Still. I hate seeing that number. So discouraging, ya know?
Can't let it bring me down, though. Negativity and a loss of focus = lapse in control, which, in turn = consumption of food, then FATNESS. Yes. That's my logic.
I love you all... Thank you so much for sticking with me through every bit of this. Promise a better post soon.
<3
Coffee, oatmeal (140), and a protein shake (100). Good start to any day, right? Let's hope so.
I want to starve today. I want to feel the hunger and the dizziness of the last week return to me. I lost it yesterday. 1,400 calories, and I felt...satisfied...physically, of course. Mentally? I wanted to punish myself. I purged again, after c/s'ing far too much ice cream. Seems like a blur now. It was to die for. So good. It shouldn't feel that good to do that. Topamax! Hurry! Get here, now! A few more weeks, probably, before it will arrive.
I've been trolling blogs for thinspiration...reminding myself of all that I can/will have when I am thin. The lean, toned torso; skinny-mini legs; AMAZING ribs that show without having to even try and show 'em.
They must be mine.
I must remain hungry today.
600 or bust, baby!
Oh, and the scale tells me 137 again today. I know it's water. Still. I hate seeing that number. So discouraging, ya know?
Can't let it bring me down, though. Negativity and a loss of focus = lapse in control, which, in turn = consumption of food, then FATNESS. Yes. That's my logic.
I love you all... Thank you so much for sticking with me through every bit of this. Promise a better post soon.
<3
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
He's gonna miss my boobs when they're all gone...
My bewbies are getting smaller again... I lose them each time I lose weight. I've come down from a large C to a large A over the past twelve months or so... K has already said that yes, he notices a difference from when we first got together, but that it's okay cuz when we're both rich and he's makin' millions on his game, he'll get me the best new ones that money can buy. ;) And I'm totally down with that.
You ever wait for what seems like ages to get rid of whatever foodstuffs have made their way down into your intestines (decided to take a little rest there, have a drink, settle in, and set up shop-build a home-raise a family)...and then, FINALLY...after FOREVER...it manages to work itself out and you're suddenly very noticeably slimmer? Like...without being too graphic, of course... after my trip to the bathroom this morning, hell fucking yes, I must have weighed like three pounds less. No foolin'. I didn't weigh myself because I was in a hurry and already dressed and all, but still...Like whoa. I felt like such a guy, wanting to snap a quick photo of the impressiveness of that shit (literally...ha... :P) and send it to my friends. Lmao...this seems ridiculous now, but I'm not even kidding... One time I was at K's house and I heard him cracking up like mad in the bathroom. Puzzled and curious, I asked him what was so funny in there. He was still laughing his ass off as he told me that he just HAD to take a picture of the ginormous dump he'd just taken to send to his friend, along with a caption comparing it to a python or some other rather large reptile...Ha...Men.
And apparently, me.
But I didn't take a photo. I did feel pretty surprised at how pleased I was with this though, just knowing that if I kept myself pretty empty today, I'd surely weigh quite a bit less tomorrow morning. As of now, I'm already at 495 for the day, at 12:30, and still feeling weak all over, but I can hang. I can make it. I'm feeling stronger than ever (mentally), even though my brain is still scattered (I'm gonna call it ana-brain) and I'm developing quickly into the worst klutz I've ever known...Dropping things has become more and more expected. My reaction time...that's what it is. It takes me a bit longer to react to things as they're happening. I know this is not a good sign. I know that my brain is lacking in oxygen and glucose. I realize this, and yet I keep it up. All in the name of thin, yo. It's obviously worth more to me than the health of my brain cells.
How fucked up is that?
I don't care, I guess. I don't know. I'm going to go ahead and work hard on convincing myself that I turly don't care.
Anyway, yesterday was a pretty bad day for c&s binges. I had like three or four. I always factor in these calories as well, about 100 to 200 for a particularly bad one. I'm estimating high, I know, because I do a reasonably good job at making sure I don't swallow any of it, but still. Ice cream, for example, is a ridiculously difficult c&s food for me. And yet I crave it. And so I do it. I just go into the whole binge knowing that I'll have to purge anyway, even though I'm spitting out most of it to begin with. Good ol' Mr. Barfy (my purple toothbrush) ended up showing me that I'd inadvertently swallowed quite a bit more ice cream than I initially figured. Wow. Good thing I got rid of that. I'm weighing in at 135.8 or so as of last night, so that means I've lost nearly 3 lbs in week. Not the best, but I'll take it. :D
That reminds me. I'm seeing visible changes all over...pants are back to being just a little slack, and the ribs in the center of my chest, where they connect to my sternum, are showing as well. Even my hip bones are jutting up more now, to where they do that awesome thing when you lay down and your panties are stretched across them leaving this concave little gap beneath...you know what I'm talking about? Sure you do. :P Here:
I would take a photo of my own but I'm using my uncle's computer and he's a big perv anyway and I don't want to have that type of picture anywhere CLOSE to where he could find it. Ew.
But yeah, so I'm seeing the tangible evidence of weight loss, slowly, but the scale seems to be a bit high. Of course, since I'm like the worst person I know when it comes to overanalyzing and hypochondrizing (did I just make that up?) my little issues, I start pressing my fingers all over my abdomen where it's been a bit tender for a while. I find the familiar bump to the right of my belly button and shove on it a little. It moves, but barely. Hmm. I'm not liking it. It makes me look bloated, especially more toward the end of the day. I decide that I'm going to have it checked out once and for all. I skip class, call Planned Parenthood (cuz they'll do an ultrasound for like $80 or something) and set up an appointment, but they don't have anything til next week. Thursday. Should be fun. Meh.
I mostly just want to check that my IUD is still in the right place (it's been over three years, and it's only good for five) and that I'm all free of any cysts and whatnot (the women on my dad's side of the family are prone to them). I can't help but build up this elaborate (albeit ridiculous) story in my head of how it could be this huge mass of something (benign, of course!) in my abdomen and it totally weighs like ten lbs and so that'd put me at like 125 and that seems more correct, anyway, I mean, right? :P Haha...I am... ri-dic-er-rous. Yep.
Umm..Katrin? Is that right? You commented on a few of my posts (thanks for that! :D) but I can't seem to find your profile? Do you not have one? Anyway, I wanted to answer your inquiries but I usually do that in the form of personal comments on blogs...ya know? Soo... Get at me.
Ugh, my uncle's disgusting fucking mutt killed a baby rabbit today. AND ATE IT. Right in the middle of our living room floor. UGH. I felt like puking right then and there. Honestly. What better appetite suppressant? Nasty ass dog. I know, I know, they're carnivorous, they're supposed to be natural hunters, etc. I don't care. Do it outside. Don't bring that half-eaten bloody baby bunny corpse in here and chew it to bits on the floor where my daughter plays with her dolls after dinner.
Heh...I hope I ruined some of your appetites with that one. ;)
I'm off, my lovelies, to write a sonnet about goddess-knows-what for poetry class (which I very well may skip today because I'm lazy and weak and I don't wanna)... I hope you are well, and strong, and remembering what's important. No, it's not that food, and no, it's not catering to anyone's wishes about keeping you "healthy." It's THIN. That's the name of the game. Emptiness. It's pure and it's perfect and it's so easy to attain..You just have to WANT it enough. ...and you do, right?
I thought so.
<3
P.D.
You ever wait for what seems like ages to get rid of whatever foodstuffs have made their way down into your intestines (decided to take a little rest there, have a drink, settle in, and set up shop-build a home-raise a family)...and then, FINALLY...after FOREVER...it manages to work itself out and you're suddenly very noticeably slimmer? Like...without being too graphic, of course... after my trip to the bathroom this morning, hell fucking yes, I must have weighed like three pounds less. No foolin'. I didn't weigh myself because I was in a hurry and already dressed and all, but still...Like whoa. I felt like such a guy, wanting to snap a quick photo of the impressiveness of that shit (literally...ha... :P) and send it to my friends. Lmao...this seems ridiculous now, but I'm not even kidding... One time I was at K's house and I heard him cracking up like mad in the bathroom. Puzzled and curious, I asked him what was so funny in there. He was still laughing his ass off as he told me that he just HAD to take a picture of the ginormous dump he'd just taken to send to his friend, along with a caption comparing it to a python or some other rather large reptile...Ha...Men.
And apparently, me.
But I didn't take a photo. I did feel pretty surprised at how pleased I was with this though, just knowing that if I kept myself pretty empty today, I'd surely weigh quite a bit less tomorrow morning. As of now, I'm already at 495 for the day, at 12:30, and still feeling weak all over, but I can hang. I can make it. I'm feeling stronger than ever (mentally), even though my brain is still scattered (I'm gonna call it ana-brain) and I'm developing quickly into the worst klutz I've ever known...Dropping things has become more and more expected. My reaction time...that's what it is. It takes me a bit longer to react to things as they're happening. I know this is not a good sign. I know that my brain is lacking in oxygen and glucose. I realize this, and yet I keep it up. All in the name of thin, yo. It's obviously worth more to me than the health of my brain cells.
How fucked up is that?
I don't care, I guess. I don't know. I'm going to go ahead and work hard on convincing myself that I turly don't care.
Anyway, yesterday was a pretty bad day for c&s binges. I had like three or four. I always factor in these calories as well, about 100 to 200 for a particularly bad one. I'm estimating high, I know, because I do a reasonably good job at making sure I don't swallow any of it, but still. Ice cream, for example, is a ridiculously difficult c&s food for me. And yet I crave it. And so I do it. I just go into the whole binge knowing that I'll have to purge anyway, even though I'm spitting out most of it to begin with. Good ol' Mr. Barfy (my purple toothbrush) ended up showing me that I'd inadvertently swallowed quite a bit more ice cream than I initially figured. Wow. Good thing I got rid of that. I'm weighing in at 135.8 or so as of last night, so that means I've lost nearly 3 lbs in week. Not the best, but I'll take it. :D
That reminds me. I'm seeing visible changes all over...pants are back to being just a little slack, and the ribs in the center of my chest, where they connect to my sternum, are showing as well. Even my hip bones are jutting up more now, to where they do that awesome thing when you lay down and your panties are stretched across them leaving this concave little gap beneath...you know what I'm talking about? Sure you do. :P Here:
I would take a photo of my own but I'm using my uncle's computer and he's a big perv anyway and I don't want to have that type of picture anywhere CLOSE to where he could find it. Ew.
But yeah, so I'm seeing the tangible evidence of weight loss, slowly, but the scale seems to be a bit high. Of course, since I'm like the worst person I know when it comes to overanalyzing and hypochondrizing (did I just make that up?) my little issues, I start pressing my fingers all over my abdomen where it's been a bit tender for a while. I find the familiar bump to the right of my belly button and shove on it a little. It moves, but barely. Hmm. I'm not liking it. It makes me look bloated, especially more toward the end of the day. I decide that I'm going to have it checked out once and for all. I skip class, call Planned Parenthood (cuz they'll do an ultrasound for like $80 or something) and set up an appointment, but they don't have anything til next week. Thursday. Should be fun. Meh.
I mostly just want to check that my IUD is still in the right place (it's been over three years, and it's only good for five) and that I'm all free of any cysts and whatnot (the women on my dad's side of the family are prone to them). I can't help but build up this elaborate (albeit ridiculous) story in my head of how it could be this huge mass of something (benign, of course!) in my abdomen and it totally weighs like ten lbs and so that'd put me at like 125 and that seems more correct, anyway, I mean, right? :P Haha...I am... ri-dic-er-rous. Yep.
Umm..Katrin? Is that right? You commented on a few of my posts (thanks for that! :D) but I can't seem to find your profile? Do you not have one? Anyway, I wanted to answer your inquiries but I usually do that in the form of personal comments on blogs...ya know? Soo... Get at me.
Ugh, my uncle's disgusting fucking mutt killed a baby rabbit today. AND ATE IT. Right in the middle of our living room floor. UGH. I felt like puking right then and there. Honestly. What better appetite suppressant? Nasty ass dog. I know, I know, they're carnivorous, they're supposed to be natural hunters, etc. I don't care. Do it outside. Don't bring that half-eaten bloody baby bunny corpse in here and chew it to bits on the floor where my daughter plays with her dolls after dinner.
Heh...I hope I ruined some of your appetites with that one. ;)
I'm off, my lovelies, to write a sonnet about goddess-knows-what for poetry class (which I very well may skip today because I'm lazy and weak and I don't wanna)... I hope you are well, and strong, and remembering what's important. No, it's not that food, and no, it's not catering to anyone's wishes about keeping you "healthy." It's THIN. That's the name of the game. Emptiness. It's pure and it's perfect and it's so easy to attain..You just have to WANT it enough. ...and you do, right?
I thought so.
<3
P.D.
Monday, March 15, 2010
My bones are starting to show more again, but the scale tells the same tale....
My fingers are numb and cold and my head is scattered... I've got that lovely floaty, hazy feeling, though, so I know I'm doing well.
I'm so weak, though...that's the thing. I'm sitting in the school cafeteria area, next to Chick-fil-A, not even close to tempted by anything they have to offer there. That's a nice feeling. I'm back to hating the idea of eating, and I love it. Sometimes it's a fear of the food...maybe not fear, more like apprehension...just an overall feeling of "I'd rather walk ten miles in the pouring, freezing rain than consume a single calorie and let it make me fatter."
Sometimes it's more like the feeling of power over food. I'm stronger than it, you see, and I'm the boss, and it can't tell me what to eat, and I choose to eat nothing. So there.
Either way, I feel incredibly dizzy and I'm honestly a little bit scared to stand up for fear of blacking out, but I'll be careful, don't worry. I'll sip on my tea and finish my carrots and mushroom slices and maybe even eat that apple I brought... god, my body is hating me for this.
I see tracers. Little floaty colorful beings with no substance to speak of, only fluid movement. Spots. Stars. I see 'em.
I keep getting goosebumps. It's like 70 degrees out and sunny. Hmmmmmm.....
Sorry I'm so spacey. I think I had something of real merit to type today, but I don't remember what it was. I think my healthy side is trying to tell me I need to eat something, but I'm so wanting to tell her to screw herself. Today is a 600 calorie day. I'm at like 400. Yeah...Can't afford to eat.
*siiiigh*
My piercing is driving me insane. The little irritated pink and white bump/scar tissue on the inside is only getting bigger, and now it's painful. I'm worried about it. I've already gone back to my piercer twice after the initial deed; she's going to get tired of seeing me. Plus I haven't been doing what she told me to do... chamomile tea bags and saline soaks every day, twice a day, three times a day if it doesn't improve...What do I do instead? I chew and spit an entire personal breakfast pizza, a package of chocolate cupcakes, a glazed donut, and half a bag of miniature cinnamon sugar donuts.
Yeah...that can't be good for it.
My reaction time is so slowed. It's like I'm high. I watch my hand travel from the keyboard to my tupperware container of carrots, reach in sloooowly, take one, sloooowly bring it to my lips...it's like real life is in slow-mo...and I wonder if all of the people I imagine are staring at me are seeing how slowly I'm moving, too...
Probably not.
<3 Love you guys...
I'm so weak, though...that's the thing. I'm sitting in the school cafeteria area, next to Chick-fil-A, not even close to tempted by anything they have to offer there. That's a nice feeling. I'm back to hating the idea of eating, and I love it. Sometimes it's a fear of the food...maybe not fear, more like apprehension...just an overall feeling of "I'd rather walk ten miles in the pouring, freezing rain than consume a single calorie and let it make me fatter."
Sometimes it's more like the feeling of power over food. I'm stronger than it, you see, and I'm the boss, and it can't tell me what to eat, and I choose to eat nothing. So there.
Either way, I feel incredibly dizzy and I'm honestly a little bit scared to stand up for fear of blacking out, but I'll be careful, don't worry. I'll sip on my tea and finish my carrots and mushroom slices and maybe even eat that apple I brought... god, my body is hating me for this.
I see tracers. Little floaty colorful beings with no substance to speak of, only fluid movement. Spots. Stars. I see 'em.
I keep getting goosebumps. It's like 70 degrees out and sunny. Hmmmmmm.....
Sorry I'm so spacey. I think I had something of real merit to type today, but I don't remember what it was. I think my healthy side is trying to tell me I need to eat something, but I'm so wanting to tell her to screw herself. Today is a 600 calorie day. I'm at like 400. Yeah...Can't afford to eat.
*siiiigh*
My piercing is driving me insane. The little irritated pink and white bump/scar tissue on the inside is only getting bigger, and now it's painful. I'm worried about it. I've already gone back to my piercer twice after the initial deed; she's going to get tired of seeing me. Plus I haven't been doing what she told me to do... chamomile tea bags and saline soaks every day, twice a day, three times a day if it doesn't improve...What do I do instead? I chew and spit an entire personal breakfast pizza, a package of chocolate cupcakes, a glazed donut, and half a bag of miniature cinnamon sugar donuts.
Yeah...that can't be good for it.
My reaction time is so slowed. It's like I'm high. I watch my hand travel from the keyboard to my tupperware container of carrots, reach in sloooowly, take one, sloooowly bring it to my lips...it's like real life is in slow-mo...and I wonder if all of the people I imagine are staring at me are seeing how slowly I'm moving, too...
Probably not.
<3 Love you guys...
Sunday, March 14, 2010
From 300 for the day to 730 in the bat of an eye...
...but I don't mind that number too much. I think my body (and my psyche) needed more than 300 today. I could have gone on. I could have continued to drink my tea in place of food, but K and I went to the grocery store and of course I had to buy food. A shit ton of veggies, fruits, and a couple things I could do without, but bought nonetheless. 100 calorie Yoplait chocolate raspberry parfait. Four in a pack. I ate one, baby girl B ate another. I've contemplated throwing the rest away, as I would almost be inclined to finish off the other two even though I'm stuffed at the moment. Such is the nature of the compulsive overeating side of me. But no. I shall not. I shall save them for later. Why? Because I am a strong P.D. than I was yesterday, and the day before. I will continue to grow stronger until I have simply perfected the art of being ridiculously resolute in my goals...Hell, I'll be KNOWN for it. ;)
VitaTops. They're the top part of a muffin, and come frozen (since they contain no preservatives), four to a box. 100 calories each. Banana nut bread, double chocolate chip, cranberry bran...all sorts of wonderful flavors. 100 calories each. 5 grams of protein, 5 grams of fiber, and a whole bunch of wonderful vitamins and minerals I've been denying myself in the name of thin. All of it worth it, I know, but all the same...I have to stay alive in order to fully enjoy the fruits of my efforts, right?
So I came home and had a mini binge. Cup of steamed zucchini (20), half a banana (45), half a muffin thing (50), one yogurt parfait (100), a nectarine (like 35 or 40?) and two bites of B's parfait (25). Some prunes. About 100 cal. worth.
Mini binge, but nothing bad. And I'm still at 730 for the day. Feeling full, but surprisingly okay with that number. I know that unless I load up on laxies tonight I'll probably weigh more tomorrow, just for the simple fact that all this stuff'll still be in me.
When I'm restricting properly, as I have been, I get to that lovely point of loathing food, not wanting it, not needing it, dreading the thought of having to eat as I imagine every single gram of food tainting my perfect emptiness...I love that! It's wonderful, that change of mind and of soul, when you realize that you're doing this, once and for all, and there's no stopping you. It feels so... ahh... it's indescribable.
Then there's this feeling, the one I have now. When I eat until I'm full, that means I have betrayed my promise to myself. I have gone against the rules. Granted, this wasn't so bad that I'm compelled to go rushing off to MiaLand right this second or anything, but still...it's done its job in reminding my body of what being satiated FEELS like. And that's dangerous. Because it wants more. That's my brain, really, not my body. My stomach is in discomfort over what I've put into it after being blissfully deprived for days on end...but my mind? It wants more. It wants me to go into that kitchen and take it all, everything in the fridge....Can't, cuz I'm at K's house, but still...I could get away with some of it. No.
I won't.
This isn't a failure, so there is no reason whatsoever to allow the binge monster to nudge her way in... No binge monsters allowed! I want a sign that says that. I'll hang it on my bedroom door like we would when we were little girls in our secret clubhouses:
Ah, looks like I have to go. Little one wants to play the matching game. :) Maybe we'll take a walk in the sunsetty afternoon air...can't beat 78 degrees in the middle of March! :) I posted a lot today, huh? Thanks for hangin' in there. You're a real trooper.
Oh, and I finished my painting for my friend...you know, the fairy painting. Look, but don't say anything! It's a surprise! ;)
You lovelies stay beautiful, and keep strong. We're in this to win it...Thin, perfect beauty WILL be ours.
<3
VitaTops. They're the top part of a muffin, and come frozen (since they contain no preservatives), four to a box. 100 calories each. Banana nut bread, double chocolate chip, cranberry bran...all sorts of wonderful flavors. 100 calories each. 5 grams of protein, 5 grams of fiber, and a whole bunch of wonderful vitamins and minerals I've been denying myself in the name of thin. All of it worth it, I know, but all the same...I have to stay alive in order to fully enjoy the fruits of my efforts, right?
So I came home and had a mini binge. Cup of steamed zucchini (20), half a banana (45), half a muffin thing (50), one yogurt parfait (100), a nectarine (like 35 or 40?) and two bites of B's parfait (25). Some prunes. About 100 cal. worth.
Mini binge, but nothing bad. And I'm still at 730 for the day. Feeling full, but surprisingly okay with that number. I know that unless I load up on laxies tonight I'll probably weigh more tomorrow, just for the simple fact that all this stuff'll still be in me.
When I'm restricting properly, as I have been, I get to that lovely point of loathing food, not wanting it, not needing it, dreading the thought of having to eat as I imagine every single gram of food tainting my perfect emptiness...I love that! It's wonderful, that change of mind and of soul, when you realize that you're doing this, once and for all, and there's no stopping you. It feels so... ahh... it's indescribable.
Then there's this feeling, the one I have now. When I eat until I'm full, that means I have betrayed my promise to myself. I have gone against the rules. Granted, this wasn't so bad that I'm compelled to go rushing off to MiaLand right this second or anything, but still...it's done its job in reminding my body of what being satiated FEELS like. And that's dangerous. Because it wants more. That's my brain, really, not my body. My stomach is in discomfort over what I've put into it after being blissfully deprived for days on end...but my mind? It wants more. It wants me to go into that kitchen and take it all, everything in the fridge....Can't, cuz I'm at K's house, but still...I could get away with some of it. No.
I won't.
This isn't a failure, so there is no reason whatsoever to allow the binge monster to nudge her way in... No binge monsters allowed! I want a sign that says that. I'll hang it on my bedroom door like we would when we were little girls in our secret clubhouses:
Ah, looks like I have to go. Little one wants to play the matching game. :) Maybe we'll take a walk in the sunsetty afternoon air...can't beat 78 degrees in the middle of March! :) I posted a lot today, huh? Thanks for hangin' in there. You're a real trooper.
Oh, and I finished my painting for my friend...you know, the fairy painting. Look, but don't say anything! It's a surprise! ;)
You lovelies stay beautiful, and keep strong. We're in this to win it...Thin, perfect beauty WILL be ours.
<3
Just an addition/aside...
...what I'm doing to my body is exceedingly unhealthy.
I realize this, and spend a great deal of my time doing my best to ignore it.
It's hard to do that, though, when you come across the horrific aftermath stories of sufferers who have endured the disease that is anorexia to its fullest extent, nearly to the point of death. They live daily with this agony and these scars, internal and external, emotional and physical, that will always remind them of how they spent their youth...starving and cold, miserable but hoping.
And us?
We all like to think that we're different.
I realize this, and spend a great deal of my time doing my best to ignore it.
It's hard to do that, though, when you come across the horrific aftermath stories of sufferers who have endured the disease that is anorexia to its fullest extent, nearly to the point of death. They live daily with this agony and these scars, internal and external, emotional and physical, that will always remind them of how they spent their youth...starving and cold, miserable but hoping.
And us?
We all like to think that we're different.
90 followers and dizzy spells...
I am so beyond flattered. Heh, I feel important. I told you last post that I'm a comment whore. Self-proclaimed, and not afraid to admit it. I love the fact that you guys like to read my ramblings. Thank you. :)
I wonder if there's a way to see how many blogs I follow without my having to scroll down that sidebar and count. I'd say definitely over 100. Maybe more. Meh...
I'm dizzy. Yeah, I prefaced that up there ^^^, didn't I?
It's 12:47 PM and I'm at 200. I like that. I like that a lot. I like it so much right now that I never want to eat again. Yeah. That's the strength I find in weakness. Fun stuff.
Of course, I'll have to eat later. My best friend and her boyfriend will be coming up to visit and it'll be right around dinnertime. And naturally, since we're fat Americans (or do others do this as well?), we can't help but centralize EVERY social occasion around food and eating. I requested that I have the honor of picking the restaurant, so for the next hour or so I'll be trolling teh interwebs for healthy-ish eating-out type places in the area where we'll be meeting up... The two of them know about my ED but are under the impression that I'm fighting it, trying to recover, blah blah bliggity blah.
I have to keep up that facade, though, so as to avoid intervention of my evil masterplan... I was even thinking of using the fact that my lip is still (STILL!) swollen from my piercing and the growing scar tissue as an excuse not to eat... Check it out! ...ignoring the dreaded underarm fat, of course. Please and thank you.
Like, maybe I could play it up big time (even though it doesn't hurt all that much and doesn't inhibit my eating one iota) and say that all I can do is drink tea and water and protein shakes or something stupid like that. Can't just say "soft foods only" because then mashed potatoes and creamy soups will inevitably be offered. NOPE! Not this girl. She's rollin' on four days of awesomely liberating restriction and not stopping til she hits 118. :D
Speaking of weight...One pound down from yesterday. I know I should be happy, but really, I know it's mostly water weight gone. And it's not 135. And it's not 118. All in good time. 136.8 is better than Monday's weight of 138. Gotta look at the big picture, right?
So I'm hungry. My oatmeal and broccoli/shrimp mixture that's brought me to 200 for today is apparently gone from me now. I want to eat that 120 calorie soup so badly right now. I know I won't. I also have an insatiable c/s craving right now for chocolate glazed donuts. I will probably indulge in a little c/s before dinner tonight. *sigh...* I know it's not okay. In my mind, though, it's keeping me from all-out bingeing and so therefore it's something I'll continue to do on occasion until the desire to eat those things has completely disappeared. Well on my way.
Heh, little B is something else. She's jumping around the room, stomping and singing and clapping her perfect little hands: "Let's all do the potty dance! Let's all wear our BIG KID pants!!" Ha.
Tea. Tea will not help the dizziness, but it will fill me up for now. And probably send me to pee for the seventy-eighth time today.
I love you all. Muah. :*
<3
I wonder if there's a way to see how many blogs I follow without my having to scroll down that sidebar and count. I'd say definitely over 100. Maybe more. Meh...
I'm dizzy. Yeah, I prefaced that up there ^^^, didn't I?
It's 12:47 PM and I'm at 200. I like that. I like that a lot. I like it so much right now that I never want to eat again. Yeah. That's the strength I find in weakness. Fun stuff.
Of course, I'll have to eat later. My best friend and her boyfriend will be coming up to visit and it'll be right around dinnertime. And naturally, since we're fat Americans (or do others do this as well?), we can't help but centralize EVERY social occasion around food and eating. I requested that I have the honor of picking the restaurant, so for the next hour or so I'll be trolling teh interwebs for healthy-ish eating-out type places in the area where we'll be meeting up... The two of them know about my ED but are under the impression that I'm fighting it, trying to recover, blah blah bliggity blah.
I have to keep up that facade, though, so as to avoid intervention of my evil masterplan... I was even thinking of using the fact that my lip is still (STILL!) swollen from my piercing and the growing scar tissue as an excuse not to eat... Check it out! ...ignoring the dreaded underarm fat, of course. Please and thank you.
Like, maybe I could play it up big time (even though it doesn't hurt all that much and doesn't inhibit my eating one iota) and say that all I can do is drink tea and water and protein shakes or something stupid like that. Can't just say "soft foods only" because then mashed potatoes and creamy soups will inevitably be offered. NOPE! Not this girl. She's rollin' on four days of awesomely liberating restriction and not stopping til she hits 118. :D
Speaking of weight...One pound down from yesterday. I know I should be happy, but really, I know it's mostly water weight gone. And it's not 135. And it's not 118. All in good time. 136.8 is better than Monday's weight of 138. Gotta look at the big picture, right?
So I'm hungry. My oatmeal and broccoli/shrimp mixture that's brought me to 200 for today is apparently gone from me now. I want to eat that 120 calorie soup so badly right now. I know I won't. I also have an insatiable c/s craving right now for chocolate glazed donuts. I will probably indulge in a little c/s before dinner tonight. *sigh...* I know it's not okay. In my mind, though, it's keeping me from all-out bingeing and so therefore it's something I'll continue to do on occasion until the desire to eat those things has completely disappeared. Well on my way.
Heh, little B is something else. She's jumping around the room, stomping and singing and clapping her perfect little hands: "Let's all do the potty dance! Let's all wear our BIG KID pants!!" Ha.
Tea. Tea will not help the dizziness, but it will fill me up for now. And probably send me to pee for the seventy-eighth time today.
I love you all. Muah. :*
<3
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Wuz at 500-sumthin...Then came chikkin 'n alky-hawl...
I feel like reading (and have been reading) but instead I'll write (because I'm a comment whore and I apparently want/need to know that people care about what I have to say FAR more than I'd like to admit)... 'cept I did just admit it...Know why?
Uh, cuz it's YOU guys...and I admit everything to you.
Just like I'm about to admit failure...here...right now...
...after this brief message from the sponsor of my giggles tonight:
Ah, so the cuteness. It made me happy again, watching that. I no longer feel like confessing/complaining about how I made fried chicken and mashed potatoes for the bf tonight and consumed just enough to effectively zap me up from a very nice little daily total of 550 to over 1000... Seeing that number on my little post-it note of daily calculations sent me straight over the edge...No, I didn't binge, but I did take a few more spoonfuls of mashed taters (ha! COUNTRY!) and I c/s'd some more chicken...and now I'm having a HUGE screwdriver. Still won't go over 1,500 for the day, but it feels pretty fail. Having starved in dizziness and weakness all day long, and all week long (that muscle fatigue is somethin' else, isn't it?), I figured that I couldn't POSSIBLY weigh more tomorrow...but now? Very possible.
Anyway... I'm sorry that this isn't a very uplifting blog entry. Like I said, more in a reading mood than anything. It's a good thing, too, because it's time to read bedtime stories to the little one (one of my very favorite parts of my existence) so I'm off to do that. Haha, yes, we went to the library today and I caught sight of THIS gem on a random shelf:
Thought you gals might enjoy that.
Okay, so little B just accidentally spilled (is a spill ever intentional? Food for thought...) a glass of water all over K's nightstand where there're lots of electronics underneath...Of course she started crying out of remorse and shock and just because she's 3 and tired...but rather than get onto her, I thought to switch it up a little, to see how it affected her:
"Wow, babygirl, that wasn't fun, huh? Maybe K and Mommy should be more careful about where they put their drinks, huh? Cuz you're only 3 and you can't be expected to know all of this stuff, can you? You try so hard..." Haha, I was crooning most of this to her with K in mind, as he sopped up water from the carpet with a dirty dishtowel. He laughed...only a little. Yes, I'm trying to introduce fatherly tolerance sloooowly... Gradual-like. Shh. Don't tell him. It's a secret.
I'm being beckoned. It's story time. Love you all! Hope you're well.
<3
Uh, cuz it's YOU guys...and I admit everything to you.
Just like I'm about to admit failure...here...right now...
...after this brief message from the sponsor of my giggles tonight:
Ah, so the cuteness. It made me happy again, watching that. I no longer feel like confessing/complaining about how I made fried chicken and mashed potatoes for the bf tonight and consumed just enough to effectively zap me up from a very nice little daily total of 550 to over 1000... Seeing that number on my little post-it note of daily calculations sent me straight over the edge...No, I didn't binge, but I did take a few more spoonfuls of mashed taters (ha! COUNTRY!) and I c/s'd some more chicken...and now I'm having a HUGE screwdriver. Still won't go over 1,500 for the day, but it feels pretty fail. Having starved in dizziness and weakness all day long, and all week long (that muscle fatigue is somethin' else, isn't it?), I figured that I couldn't POSSIBLY weigh more tomorrow...but now? Very possible.
Anyway... I'm sorry that this isn't a very uplifting blog entry. Like I said, more in a reading mood than anything. It's a good thing, too, because it's time to read bedtime stories to the little one (one of my very favorite parts of my existence) so I'm off to do that. Haha, yes, we went to the library today and I caught sight of THIS gem on a random shelf:
Thought you gals might enjoy that.
Okay, so little B just accidentally spilled (is a spill ever intentional? Food for thought...) a glass of water all over K's nightstand where there're lots of electronics underneath...Of course she started crying out of remorse and shock and just because she's 3 and tired...but rather than get onto her, I thought to switch it up a little, to see how it affected her:
"Wow, babygirl, that wasn't fun, huh? Maybe K and Mommy should be more careful about where they put their drinks, huh? Cuz you're only 3 and you can't be expected to know all of this stuff, can you? You try so hard..." Haha, I was crooning most of this to her with K in mind, as he sopped up water from the carpet with a dirty dishtowel. He laughed...only a little. Yes, I'm trying to introduce fatherly tolerance sloooowly... Gradual-like. Shh. Don't tell him. It's a secret.
I'm being beckoned. It's story time. Love you all! Hope you're well.
<3
Thank you all for your humorous and encouraging comments. :) They made me smile, although I didn't get the chance to read them until *after* the encounter with Mom's homemade foods yesterday. It wasn't as bad as I had imagined. Not surprising. I usually imagine things in the worst possible light...nearly always. It's not intentional. Just the way I've always been. I have my theories as to why this is the case but I'm feeling lazy so I won't go into it. :P
So I rounded off yesterday (even after the chicken [which was grilled! YES!] and potatoes) at approximately 670 calories. I was happy with this. Then I went and ate a 70 calorie yogurt and approximately 350 calories of sushi. Fail? Yeah. But not horrid. THEN... I felt like drinking. Bought some zero cal Sobe Life Water and some Metromint stuff...
...pretty good, but not a great mixer... and a big ol' bottle o' 100 proof Smirnoff vodka. Mmmm...Triple distilled fuckmeup calories... I thought I wanted to get drunk. I was stressed. It would feel good. Just settle in at K's house and get mah buzz on, forget about life for a few hours...
Oh but no. That would've been too nice, had things gone that way. As it was, I had a few sips of my drink, realized it wasn't nearly as good as it needed to be in order for me to *want* to drink it, and added about half a dash of orange juice. Better. But now I was tired. Sleepy. Drowsy, and weak from lack of food over the past few days. So halfway through my delicious adult beverage, I gave up on drinking. Meh. Whatever. Maybe I'd weigh less in the morning for having dehydrated myself a bit, and skipping on the excess cals.
W-wait...What? I'm not weighing til MONDAY...remember, P.D.? I couldn't help it. See, yesterday I cheated and weighed myself *after* breakfast (which, as you may know, goes against EVERYTHING in my plan and in my nature...) and *after* a big huge glass of water *while* wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and my running shoes. 142.8. FUCK ME. I couldn't believe it. Monday was 138.0. That was my starting point. I...I have no words. I've been starving myself like crazy. Running and walking and cleaning house and expending extra calories in every way I could imagine...Even with all of these factors (the breakfast and clothing included) it shouldn't be 142.8!?!?
*sigh...* That was yesterday morning. I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom. Stared at the scale. Warred with myself. Stepped on.
Wanted to cry.
137.8.
I don't understand.
The weakness, the fogginess, the airhead ditziness that befalls me on day 3 or 4 of consuming negative net cals... It's been plaguing me and promising me, whispering to my subconscious that this will all be worth it, come Monday...plus, it feels good, doesn't it? Doesn't it feel amazing, that dizzy fatigue that says you're starving yourself? It means you're surely getting thinner...
But no...The scale says I'm not. I should have lost at LEAST a full pound by now...I'm so...ugh.
I know I can't give up. I know I can't let this send me into that all too familiar depression/disappointment binge that's waiting just around the corner. Sunday night, I will take my usual overdose of laxies and get an accurate reading on Monday morning.
I just want to see 135. I want to know that all I've been doing has been working. I've been trying harder this week than I have in months, and it's doing nothing.
Please...135. At *least*.
My belly *is* pretty bloated. Could just be a whole lotta something waiting to come out. Crossed fingers for that.
You want to see, don't you? You don't?
Ah well, avert your eyes.
Heh... The problem and the solution, all in one little photo.
I should go. I thought I had something good to write, but I realize now that I don't. 600 calories today, MAX.. 480, if I don't consume my "Emergency Use Only" 120 cal soup.
I love you dearly. Thank you for your continued support... You guys are the lights of my life. <3
So I rounded off yesterday (even after the chicken [which was grilled! YES!] and potatoes) at approximately 670 calories. I was happy with this. Then I went and ate a 70 calorie yogurt and approximately 350 calories of sushi. Fail? Yeah. But not horrid. THEN... I felt like drinking. Bought some zero cal Sobe Life Water and some Metromint stuff...
...pretty good, but not a great mixer... and a big ol' bottle o' 100 proof Smirnoff vodka. Mmmm...Triple distilled fuckmeup calories... I thought I wanted to get drunk. I was stressed. It would feel good. Just settle in at K's house and get mah buzz on, forget about life for a few hours...
Oh but no. That would've been too nice, had things gone that way. As it was, I had a few sips of my drink, realized it wasn't nearly as good as it needed to be in order for me to *want* to drink it, and added about half a dash of orange juice. Better. But now I was tired. Sleepy. Drowsy, and weak from lack of food over the past few days. So halfway through my delicious adult beverage, I gave up on drinking. Meh. Whatever. Maybe I'd weigh less in the morning for having dehydrated myself a bit, and skipping on the excess cals.
W-wait...What? I'm not weighing til MONDAY...remember, P.D.? I couldn't help it. See, yesterday I cheated and weighed myself *after* breakfast (which, as you may know, goes against EVERYTHING in my plan and in my nature...) and *after* a big huge glass of water *while* wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and my running shoes. 142.8. FUCK ME. I couldn't believe it. Monday was 138.0. That was my starting point. I...I have no words. I've been starving myself like crazy. Running and walking and cleaning house and expending extra calories in every way I could imagine...Even with all of these factors (the breakfast and clothing included) it shouldn't be 142.8!?!?
*sigh...* That was yesterday morning. I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom. Stared at the scale. Warred with myself. Stepped on.
Wanted to cry.
137.8.
I don't understand.
The weakness, the fogginess, the airhead ditziness that befalls me on day 3 or 4 of consuming negative net cals... It's been plaguing me and promising me, whispering to my subconscious that this will all be worth it, come Monday...plus, it feels good, doesn't it? Doesn't it feel amazing, that dizzy fatigue that says you're starving yourself? It means you're surely getting thinner...
But no...The scale says I'm not. I should have lost at LEAST a full pound by now...I'm so...ugh.
I know I can't give up. I know I can't let this send me into that all too familiar depression/disappointment binge that's waiting just around the corner. Sunday night, I will take my usual overdose of laxies and get an accurate reading on Monday morning.
I just want to see 135. I want to know that all I've been doing has been working. I've been trying harder this week than I have in months, and it's doing nothing.
Please...135. At *least*.
My belly *is* pretty bloated. Could just be a whole lotta something waiting to come out. Crossed fingers for that.
You want to see, don't you? You don't?
Ah well, avert your eyes.
Heh... The problem and the solution, all in one little photo.
I should go. I thought I had something good to write, but I realize now that I don't. 600 calories today, MAX.. 480, if I don't consume my "Emergency Use Only" 120 cal soup.
I love you dearly. Thank you for your continued support... You guys are the lights of my life. <3
Friday, March 12, 2010
I...don't kill animals...cuz it's wrong? Yeah, that's the ticket.
We're going down to see my mother today. It's been a few months since I've taken her granddaughter down to see her, and I'm sure she's excited about seeing me as well.
She'll be making lunch, she said, as she doesn't have a whole lot of money. I almost want to offer to buy lunch for all of us, just so that I can get to a restaurant with somewhat healthy food...but no. There's nothing healthy around there. It's a podunk town in the big middle of nowhere-ville, nothing but steakhouses and burger joints for as far as fat eyes can see. That's all they need. No one cares to be thin around there. All they do is farm corn and hay and raise cattle and horses.
Yes. That's where I'm from.
You caught me.
I'm a country girl, born and raised.
Not so much anymore. But it's pretty difficult to erase those roots.
I still ADORE the scent of a horse's skin...I used to press my face into my colt's soft, warm neck and just..breathe him in. It's such a distinctive, earthy smell, and it's comforting and wildly untamed at the same time. I miss him.
But I digress. Food! I've had oatmeal today and that's all I wanted to eat all day, maybe some eggwhites and veggies later, but NO! Definitely not what she has in store for us!
"Chicken tenders and mashed potatoes...B will eat that, right?"
*awkward pause while I think*
"..uh...Yeah, of course..she loves that kind of stuff."
*racing thoughts, make an excuse, make an excuse! come up with a reason as to WHY you can't eat that stuff...*
Vegan? I could say I've gone vegan. That won't save me from the potatoes...unless! Unless she's already put milk and butter into them! Yes!
She won't believe me.
I could just bring something for myself, sure, but that would be rude. And my mother, like me, takes pride in cooking for her loved ones.
I can't do that to her.
So I've decided to eat a bit of her lunch, just a few bites, concentrate mostly on B and her eating, hopefully distracting my mom with other stuff I'm sure she'll be easily distracted with...like my new piercing she's going to loathe. Oh, that should be fun. Why in the hell would I get a piercing in my lip, you ask? Because I like it. Thanks.
I'm wearing long sleeves to hide the four new tattoos that I have since the last time I saw her. Yeah, she wouldn't like that very much.
Lying? Sort of. Keeping the peace? Certainly.
It's worth it.
I was supposed to have left an hour ago. You know what I've done? Blogged. Sat here and wrote this, but spent most of my time reading and commenting. Why? Apparently I'm addicted to you guys. What can I say? You girls kick some major ASS. Thin, toned, beautifully perfectly cellulite-free ASS. ;)
I'm gonna go. I'm dizzy and loving it. My body wants food. My mind is stronger. Thin wins this one.
Stay lovely, my beauties.
<3
She'll be making lunch, she said, as she doesn't have a whole lot of money. I almost want to offer to buy lunch for all of us, just so that I can get to a restaurant with somewhat healthy food...but no. There's nothing healthy around there. It's a podunk town in the big middle of nowhere-ville, nothing but steakhouses and burger joints for as far as fat eyes can see. That's all they need. No one cares to be thin around there. All they do is farm corn and hay and raise cattle and horses.
Yes. That's where I'm from.
You caught me.
I'm a country girl, born and raised.
Not so much anymore. But it's pretty difficult to erase those roots.
I still ADORE the scent of a horse's skin...I used to press my face into my colt's soft, warm neck and just..breathe him in. It's such a distinctive, earthy smell, and it's comforting and wildly untamed at the same time. I miss him.
But I digress. Food! I've had oatmeal today and that's all I wanted to eat all day, maybe some eggwhites and veggies later, but NO! Definitely not what she has in store for us!
"Chicken tenders and mashed potatoes...B will eat that, right?"
*awkward pause while I think*
"..uh...Yeah, of course..she loves that kind of stuff."
*racing thoughts, make an excuse, make an excuse! come up with a reason as to WHY you can't eat that stuff...*
Vegan? I could say I've gone vegan. That won't save me from the potatoes...unless! Unless she's already put milk and butter into them! Yes!
She won't believe me.
I could just bring something for myself, sure, but that would be rude. And my mother, like me, takes pride in cooking for her loved ones.
I can't do that to her.
So I've decided to eat a bit of her lunch, just a few bites, concentrate mostly on B and her eating, hopefully distracting my mom with other stuff I'm sure she'll be easily distracted with...like my new piercing she's going to loathe. Oh, that should be fun. Why in the hell would I get a piercing in my lip, you ask? Because I like it. Thanks.
I'm wearing long sleeves to hide the four new tattoos that I have since the last time I saw her. Yeah, she wouldn't like that very much.
Lying? Sort of. Keeping the peace? Certainly.
It's worth it.
I was supposed to have left an hour ago. You know what I've done? Blogged. Sat here and wrote this, but spent most of my time reading and commenting. Why? Apparently I'm addicted to you guys. What can I say? You girls kick some major ASS. Thin, toned, beautifully perfectly cellulite-free ASS. ;)
I'm gonna go. I'm dizzy and loving it. My body wants food. My mind is stronger. Thin wins this one.
Stay lovely, my beauties.
<3
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