Saturday, September 18, 2010

I make myself sick. Yes, in more ways than one.

I've been purging every day now for who knows how long, and it has to stop.

Not only is it fucking horrible for me, for all of the reasons I don't have to list because we ALL KNOW them, but because it's ALSO helping to make me fat.

How fat, you ask?

Remember Christmas?

Yes. Christmas with all of its fatty, sugary, salty, carbalicious, sauce-laden-and-gravy-covered-and-heaped-with-five-different-kinds-of-cheeses shit? Cookies and cakes and brownies and fuck me, I'm triggering even to mySELF, I apologize...and I digress. Fuck.

I haven't seen this number since Christmas break.

And now it's here. In SEPTEMBER, ya'll.


Pullin' out the ol' Texan vernacular on ya.


Holy mother of Jesus in a deflated old tire swing, what the hell am I DOING?! Essentially...Eating enough to feed a small family and only purging about half of it. Maybe only a quarter of it.

Shameful, all of it. The bingeing, the foods I choose to eat in the first place (I'm gluten and lactose intolerant, mind you, so of COURSE, the first thing I go for when I lose control [which is more often than not, nowadays] is the type of food I'm not normally allowed to have anyway...namely bread items and cheeses and yogurts and cookies and shit like that).

Anyway. I have to make this shortish. I have things to do here at home before I get to go to G's house for the rest of me weekend. Yes. I've finally decided that, since I'm private and there are only 21 of you following me now...ha...down from 183 or so?...I can be much more openish about certain aspects of my personal relationship, as iffy as that may be in my actual, real, daily-waking-walking-hasrealrepercussions-life. ;)

My ex-Children's Lit. professor. You 'member him. Of course you do. If not, you can go back and find a few of the posts in which I very carefully mentioned him... He's Australian and he's 42 and he's wonderful...He's mine. He wasn't mine for a while. He couldn't be mine while I was his student, of course. That's against University policy, and that would have been far too risky. I'm not out to get him fired or anything like that...He loves his profession, and he's damn good at it. So we waited...and when that semester was over, he left to Australia for two entire months. GOD, that took forever. I missed him incessantly. We kept in contact via email and text messaging but JESUS, that's hard. Anyway, he's been back since the end of July and things are pretty much lovely...there are some kinks here and there, but they're not between US, per se. I'll have to explain that at some point in the near future. Suffice to say...I'm happier with him than I have ever been with anyone, and he feels the same. We honestly don't know how we could have ever said "love" before and meant it, not having met one another. It's amazing.

Aaaaannnd....that's enough of the sap. ;)

So anyway. Back to 136.fucking4. I don't...I mean...I was in total shock when I saw the number, of course, because I...I was 133 just a few days ago. 131 the day before that. So I know that a lot of it has to be food that's not laxied out. Naturally. But...still...A lot of it is actual gain. I won't pretend that it's not. I have to make a change.

My main point here? My problem?

Ladies...I've lost ...IT. I've lost my motivation. And I don't mean temporarily. It feels as if I've lost my obsession entirely. It feels as if... The disordered part of me is partial remission. Like ... Recovery is trying to creep its way in and tell me that it's time to let go of all of this, time to take a healthier approach to my life, my body, my eating habits... Problem is, the UNHEALTHY side of my mind, the part of me that is still NOT okay with how I feel and look (BIG PART OF ME) is rebelling with ALL she's got. She's not ready to go down, and so she's tearing back with all her strength, tooth and nail and kicking feet, screaming and bingeing and purging and laxing and taking prescription drugs (Topa, mainly, but diet pills, too) even though the side effects are horrible... My fucking hair is falling out!!!

I don't know what to do. I'm getting fat. I'm so tired of TRYING so hard NOT to be fat. It's all I do with myself. It's such an exhausting life. Trying so hard, 24-fucking-7...You all know this. You live the same life. But do I find my resolve again? Or...what a radical notion...what if I'm SUPPOSED to take this and run with it? Try to get..."better?" I don't know. I just know that I can't stand the way I look now. I can't stand the bingeing and purging.

I have to go.


1 comment:

  1. I swear bloggers synchronize their loss of control like girls will unconsciously synchronize their periods when they hang around each other enough. Kind of a trend I've noticed in the ED blogosphere. Which I shouldn't even be in to begin with, yet it is the bulk of my follower demographic.

    Life takes bizarre turns.

    Advice? I don't know. But may I offer you a sarcastic comment instead?

    Bahahaha I get humor from facebook bumper stickers.

    I wish there was anything I could do to help you sort shit out. But maybe your powerlessness around food is like the sting of your first heartbreak. It feels hopeless for so long, no one can talk you out of it, and the only thing that will cure it is time.