The Taste of Pain

I ate a lot yesterday.
I didn't weigh myself. I had gotten down to 134.4. When I got home from work, I was at 134.2.

But then my migraine kicked in.

I had been fighting it all night. Lots of excedrin. But the smoke from the wildfires in CA has blown into where we are despite being so far away, and for the past few nights, the air has been thick with it. Roiling. Thick and smelling of burning wood and pollution, and it sticks to your clothes. I've been getting chest problems lately, and I started hacking, and it triggered my migraine from the allergies and just...things.
It also made me feel so sick. When I have shit in my lungs, I lose all my appetite. I just couldn't bring myself to eat. So I had a bowl of cereal in an 8 hour period, and I know better than that. There wasn't enough protein, and i was way under my calorie intake for such an extended period, and my migraine just...kicked in without warning.

I wound up shaking. Shaking, and dry heaving. I tore apart my room looking for my ambien, took a full one with a flexeril, flurbiprofen, and celebrex. All on a relatively empty stomach. Then attacked a bag of pita chips, half a hershey bar, a 100 calorie snack pack, and a jar of peanut butter. All right before bed. And I was too afraid to weigh myself. I knew I'd be in the 135-136 range, and I can't bring myself to see that.

I just can't.

I might not weigh myself for a few days.

I woke up with the migraine still in tact. I took three excedrin and 4 ibuprofen. It's going away, but now I have the post-migraine exhaustion, and I'm at work. I keep slumping in my chair, or closing my eyes and falling dead asleep while I'm still sitting up. And the worst part of it all?
I can still feel it there, in the back of my neck. Waiting.

I need to sleep now. I need to sleep to make it go away, or it'll come back. I can feel it flirting with me and mocking me as my body begs for a much needed reprieve.

I hate these things.

I hate the way pain tastes.

Strange, isn't that?

I taste pain. Thin razor cuts are like warheads - that puckering sour that sticks in the back of your throat and makes you feel ill. The sharp drag of a safety pin tugging and pulling is like coarse, unground sea salt, crunchy and melting on the tongue with a perfect sinful quality and delicious regret. The smack of something like a hanger or ruler on the flesh is cinnamon - spicy and bitter, with a hint of sweetness to it that somehow addicts you. The smack of a branch or a thin reed, or even a riding crop...that is mint. Cold and stinging, trailing chills up your flesh once the initial burn of application to mouth and lips has faded....

Migraines taste...like copper. Or biting on aluminum foil. It tastes heavy, and metallic, and sour all at once. Bitter and rotten and unnatural in the mouth. It tastes like a fork between teeth with fillings in it.

Maybe that's why I eat.

Because when I hurt, no amount of teeth brushing, mouthwash, toothpaste, or gum, can remove the "taste", because it's not really in my mouth. It's in my head. I taste it with all of my body, wracking through me. I cannot move, but I cannot sit still. I cannot lay down for more than a few minutes - I cannot stay in one position for more than a few minutes. Up, down, up, down, up, down; ice pack, heat pack, ice pack, heat pack; lights on, lights off, lights on, lights off....all the while ripping at my hair, rolling around, digging my hands into half blind eyes that see no shapes, just blurs, the depth perception gone thanks to the strange pain. Tasting it there, in my eyes, down to the bones below them, to the back of my head, neck, arms...tasting it in my gut and mouth and legs and ankles and back.... Barely able to breathe without making sparks of agony ignite. Loud, quiet, loud, quiet...unable to get comfortable. Begging for the sleep aids to kick in. Begging for the pain to let me sleep longer than ten minutes. My body burning on fire, my muscles clenched in a rage, my mouth dry. Thirsty, thirsty, so very thirsty....

...ringing in the ears, with a pain so bad I swear to myself that I would rather die....

Restless. Exhausted. Bitter tastes. Terrible tastes. Unable to be comfortable. And agony. Blindness. Mind numbing pain.

And before the pain, the "aura" I have is not one of pure physical manifestation. It is rage, and slurred speech. Mixing up words. Impulsivity. After...the exhaustion. The melancholy. The severe depression. So tired I can barely lift my hands to type....

So very tired.

Three pictures of ME

THESE WILL BE DOWN SOON D:

Okay, these are pictures of me. Uneditted, because my photo editing software is suck sauce. They're pictures of my body. My legs are starting to get a space between them, but not when I'm standing. They're hideously huge when I'm standing.

Some of these are not the most flattering, but I'm putting them up anyway. I'm going to remove them, probably later tonight, but I'll repost most of them when I reach my goal as parts of before and after pics :3


This first one is me trying on the size 7's in the dressing room. My body is not the best, most definitely, but you guys will see later how much BETTER this is in comparison to my before pics. I'm also posting this so you can see the not-flattering pic, because there are some that I think I look really good in, and I want you guys to sort of see the true bit of it? If that makes sense XD So yeah, my body:

•Deleted•

Part of the body. Not a very good picture at all, but I have to show off my shorts which are size smalls o.o!

•Deleted•

Thighs, while laying back. The space isn't there when I'm standing, but I have this obsession with laying back and staring at the space, and poking my fingers through it. I'm still fat, but when I see my legs like this, I don't feel like it. This is my favorite picture of me ever, just because there's a SPACE THERE EEEEEEEEEEEK! XD Ok DONE NAO

•Deleted•

I'll keep them up for a while, since none of them are really my face!

WEEEE

I panicked about my math class.

I had to miss my second class on Wednesday, and completely broke down when I saw the homework on line. She had apparently finished up the review, and had dove straight into Calculus. It was about translating sins and cosins, which was what almost made me fail last semester's math class, and I spent, no joke, six hours, busting my ass through that homework.

When I got to class Friday morning, I was ready to tell the teacher that I didn't think I would be able to make it through the class, and withdraw from it. I decided to wait until after lecture, sat down...

...and she was just starting on reviewing functions of functions, and hadn't even gotten into logs yet. Like...we were still in the parts of calc from last semester that I wasn't just comfortable with, but really fucking good at. We were still over a chapter behind the homework assignment she had posted on line. So I took the notes, and wound up snagging the girls homework from beside me, and saw that it was COMPLETELY different than what i had done. It was a review on basic graphing (like x^2, x^3, etc.) and we hadn't even started on transformations. When the teacher went to collect it, I showed her what i had done, and apparently, she had posted the wrong homework assignment up on line. The pages and problems were actually for her PRECALC class (which uses a different text book than us) and I had done work that was actually scheduled to be taught to us in two weeks. I have until Monday to complete the actual homework assignment, which is now comparatively easy. I just need graph paper XD

Which I did have.




Until for some reason, at the end of last semester, I decided to pack it away. We're getting ready to move, because we're trying to sale the house, so we're sort of doing a slow packing. Because when we sell it, we plan to be out within a week of closing, if not sooner, so we want it to be relatively easy (because it could happen while I'm in finals or something). So now my graphing paper, and all my notes from last semester, is in a box, in the garage, behind many other boxes, unlabeled. BLARGH.

Oh well.






Also...

I had time to kill yesterday after class, because I had to go to a training session at work for handling an active shooter on campus. That's just "What do you do" in the scenario of a person pulling out a gun and shooting up the campus. And fair warning - I am going to post a quick run down of it later, because it's stuff everyone should know. It's short, but yeah, whatever. Anyway. So I went up to Walmart to get some groceries, and decided to try on some clothes.
Last time I bought pants, I was a size 12, which was just awesome. So I grabbed some 12's, went to the dressing room, pulled them on...


...and they fell off.

I was like "...huh."

Went and grabbed some 11's....

...they fell off.

10's.
Off.
9's....





....off....


8's? Almost perfect.
7's? A little tight. But they FIT.
I'm in 7/8's.






7/8's.



From a size 18/20.









My pajama shorts i just bought are a little bit too tight, but they're smalls. The mediums didn't fit. I'm just between sizes.....








But I'm a 7/8. In some clothes, it's a 9, because they run tight, but yeah....

I squealed so loud when I pulled on those size 7's and they closed up and just squeezed that tiny little bit around my hips to make them "not yet's" but "very soon's", when just...fuck...in July, I was pulling up my 14's going "Oh...these are so close to fitting perfectly....."




EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

New low and sleepy face!

135.
I wasn't sure if I believed it until I got home from work, and was at 135.4. I'm normally a little heavier at the end of the day, and I was very, very happy to see that I was still in the 135 range when I've been struggling at 136-138 for so long. I'm too worried to be overly excited about, because I'm afraid I'll shoot right back up.

I'm very tired, and I have to go back to work for a little bit for a training session. I really, REALLY don't want to, but if i go, I get overtime. Which would be awesome.
I also have to go to class.
Blah.
Tired.
I don't work tonight, though, so I'm going to try and sleep as loooong as I can. YAY!

I also keep bursting out with "I'm at 132!" on accident, so HOPEFULLY that's a prophetic slip up, yeah? XD

Horrible, horrible videos

Prepare your stomach.

For starters; Borris - thank you so much for the comment you left. It meant a lot to me ♥
And everyone else, you know I adore you all, too!

Okay, I found three videos I have to share with you guys. They...freak me out a little ^^;








awoeifjawofij
Yeah.

Great motivation to not eat.

Also, for some reason, I keep thinking when I go to step on the scale, "It'll probably be at 158.6" instead of "138.6". Because I guess my mind forgets that I am this low, or equates my frustration and self loathing with when I was 20 pounds heavier. And while I know there has to be a difference, I don't really see it.

Anyway. There was a trainer who flirted with me at the gym and asked me out to dinner. It's a guy. I told him so long as it was just as friends, and he said yes. But yesterday, he called me while I was sick and after I had taken an ambien, nyquil, and some prozac (and still I barely slept more than three hours...my insomnia is getting seriously out of hand) and he told me, "I know you're really struggling with losing weight. I see you there all the time, you know? So instead of dinner, how about I give you some complementary sessions, and we can hang out after, you know?"

I told him sure. Who am I to turn down free sessions? XD

Mantra

I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must not eat
Thin is win
THIN IS WIN
Thin is best
Thin is control
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must not eat
I must be thin
No more calories
No more calories
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must not eat
I must be thin
I must have control
I must have control
I must have control
I must have control
No food
Food is poison
Food is poison
Food is poison
Food is poison
Food is poison
Food is poison
Food is poison
Food is poison
If you eat you will be fat
if you are fat, you will always be ridiculed
You will never be good enough as long as you are fat.
You will never be pretty enough as long as you are fat.
You will never be enough of anything as long as you are fat.
I must be thin
I must be good enough
I must be pretty enough
I must be enough of something
I will not eat
I will not eat
i will not eat
food is poison
food is poison
food is poison.
Thin is starvation
thin is hunger
thin is control
starving is control
starving is perfection
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat
I must not eat.

NomNom SEA MONSTERS

I eat so much.

This month of eating normal has reminded me just how much a "normal person" needs to eat. I've wasted so much money on food. I can't afford to eat normal.

The weight sticks to me. I vacillate between 135-137, and it refuses to budge. An irritating number on the scale that, yes, is so very much lower than my last major plateau (for those of you who read and recall my Demonic Possession of what I know call Hell - the name for my old scale - my plateau was at exactly 166.6 for 6 days...), it is still a major plateau. And much longer than that one lasted.

My body is clinging to it. I have no doubt. When you reach a weight lower than what you have been at for a very, very long time (perhaps ever in your adult life) your body struggles to keep the weight to itself. It's...a bitch, to put it in the kindest possible terms.

And if it were a real bitch - being a living female - I would don a wife beater stained with beer and mustard, take it to a trailer park, and beat it in a meth and Budlight fueled frenzy for interrupting my NASCAR race.






Or something.

Class went well.

Nobody recognized me.

Strange, isn't it? I mean, yes, I cut my hair. Well, I cut my bangs actually, thanks to you girls (and boys) who read this. I dyed it darker than it was, and I also lost 50lb's since any of them last saw me. D, a girl who was my old lab partner, stared at me for a full ten minutes before realizing who I was. My teacher, even, took a few minutes to register my name when she asked if I had done something different. I told her, "I lost weight" and her eyes got wide and she goes, "...Pretty?" Of course, Pretty not being the name she called me, but because my name on here is PrettyWreck I used that instead...and that was probably an extraneous explanation, wasn't it?

Goodness, I should sleep more than three hours at a time! I might not babble your collective ears (or eyes) off so very much!

Even other people who had been in both my bio and math class were sort of...surprised. It was cool, to realize that it took all of them a good bit to click who I was. And people sat next to me. Like...chose to sit next to me.

And talk to me.

People treat you different when you're not (as) fat. They like you better at first glance. I used to think that wasn't true. But now...now I realize that it is.





Also, I just got pulled away so I forgot partway through what I was writing, but here's me and a girl talking about a guy I used to work with, and how dirty he was. And his STD's.

Pretty: "It may not be the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean...but all that rockin won't count worth a damn when his giant sea crabs pop out and eat you."
E: hahaha
Pretty: XD
E: Hey
E: Don't judge
Pretty: XD
E: Some people want to be eaten
Pretty: I know, I know
Pretty: some people like their crabs
Pretty: they name them
Pretty: This ones Sparky, and that one is Estaban.
E: Sebastian
E: Oh, and there's Garfunkle
Pretty: And can't forget Esther.
E: But Esther's a loner
E: Being the only girl crab
Pretty: Very sad
Pretty: (Though there's rumor she's not really a girl)
E: Hm
E: Tranny crab?
Pretty: (Yes. Too many chin hairs, though they're actual tips that have stuck to her after shedding off of the wild forests on the isle of Nappytus Pube)

The end.

The Infidel is Me

School.

School school school.

It starts tomorrow.

I'm about 12 pounds over where I wanted to be. More, depending on the day, and how much the scale hates me. I went from 135.8 to 137 in a day. With working out and restricting. I wanted to be at 123. But no. I don't know what I did wrong. I can't really peg it.

School school school. I don't feel ready. Not because I don't have my calculus book yet, or because I'm not taking my neurobiology course, or my advanced developmental psych, or my organic chem...or because I'm only taking one class because I have to focus on my personal training course, which is about three classes worth of workload (holy shit, you guys, there's THREE TEXTBOOKS I NEED TO READ in the next month). Or because I completely forgot about school starting until today (Sunday night). No...none of those things. Instead, I don't feel ready because I can't fit into the outfit I wanted to wear for my first day. I'm still fat. 60-62lb's lost since summer semester and I don't see the difference. I don't think anyone else will either.

I feel like I got fatter, though I know I haven't. Though wouldn't that be a nightmareish story? To wake up and realize that all the weight you thought you've lost, you've actually gained? That you've been in a psychosis, and instead of weighing, say, 130lb's, you've gained those 60lb's, and are suddenly 250?
For that slowly appearing long neck to disappear in the time it takes to wake up and find it double rolled and hanging thick against your non-existent collarbone?

Ugh. I just gave myself chills.

Okay, back to studying.
♥ Stay strong, sweeties.
Good luck to those of you who's semesters are starting.

Am I the Infidel?
I thought it was supposed to be someone else
But now I see it's me
I am my own worst enemy

Just think of it
How the sequence of the incidents was intricate
So brilliant, yet illegitimate
Not disastrously, but triumphantly
When we met in a secret facility, I said
(You remember what I said,)
"It'll be easy for you to recognize me
By the coils of concertina wire
Surrounding my head in a shiny halo
Of small, sharp blades."

"There are people here that would do you great harm
So please, just try to stay calm
And I'll get you through this,"
You whispered
And with that, my allegiance had shifted

The betrayal
The delusions
My Quantico rejection
The isolation, the breakdowns
And mysterious injections

Hey-ey oh ey, the Infidel is me

Then it was I
The lone futurist leading
Scores of resistors armed with tridents
But you're not there

Why can't you come in from the cold?
Why can't you come in from the cold
To make an unlikely alliance with me?

Why don't you come in from the cold
To make an unlikely alliance with me?

Hey-ey oh ey, Hey-ey-ey-ey
Hey-ey oh ey, the Infidel is me

And in defiance of our alliance
I say, go away and lick your wounds
And if you get them really clean again
You can dream away your dark dreams
(Rasputina - "The Infidel Is Me")

I want to stop wearing my mask

This...is probably the most truthful, intimate thing I've ever written here, and it was all brought up because heather wrote an entry about a sewing machine, and I decided to make a list of all the things I want. It sort of...evolved, I guess.
I just feel like...there's something clawing inside of me. Something terrible. So much has happened, and so much has gone wrong, but I keep holding out hope, and forcing myself to face the things I did wrong to get me to where I am now, and force myself to take responsibility, and to face up to who I am...
As I strip the flesh from my bones, so too do I strip the layers from my soul. There are pieces of me even I forgot existed...and here is a list that I need to post. Strips of me with words I haven't even said to my dearest friends, or admitted to therapists, and here it is for all of you...so...
...enjoy....

I want to...

• ...learn to fix my own car, for at least the basic things
• ... learn to sew (make and mend my own clothes, as well as alter)
• ...finish my book
• ...become a personal trainer
• ...become independent (not have to worry about being able to support myself if something happens to my parents).
• ...get off graveyards
• ...get my finances and medical bills under control
• ...stop being afraid to face things like insurance companies, and avoiding it for so long that I wind up getting my credit messed up majorly
• ...have the courage to take responsibility for my mistakes
• ...admit to myself that I'm out of control. Not with my eating disorder, but with other aspects of my life. I would be fine, if I could get up the courage to face my health insurance company and try to dig myself out of this hole my avoidance has gotten me into
• ...admit that maybe I'm not cut out for college.
• ...get at least a bachelors degree, if not a Masters, and find something I love to do, in case I don't have the energy to push through med school to wind up in another career I feel empty in.
• ...stop taking my main enjoyment out of roleplaying on line, and find something to do with my life, irl
• ...move out of this city and out of this state.
• ...learn to repair basic things around the house, like the sink, or the garbage disposal
• ...build a pocket sized death ray (I just need the bluray node...so close...I ♥ ihacked)
• ...learn some form of real partner dancing
• ...start cooking my own meals more, rather than relying on TV dinners, fast food, and things that don't require more than a slice of bread, peanut butter, or a microwave.
• ...own clothing that I'm proud of, that's classy, and not four years old.
• ...not feel ashamed anymore that I didn't move back home because I couldn't afford it, but because I didn't like living alone, and despite all the problems I have with my parents, I'm happiest when I'm there with them. My step mom is one of my best friends, and when I can afford things here, I can help my dad pay for more things...I know I need to move out on my own, but I get so depressed when I'm by myself, and I have nothing but the silence. I don't want to move out again, unless I have someone I can move into a place with. I'm not cut out to be by myself.
• ...finally stop feeling like I have something to prove to the family that has disowned me because of my sexuality
• ...admit that maybe I'm not completely lesbian, and that I do like some guys, but only the perfect guys in magazines and romance novels, and I know that there are none of them in real life...it's okay to be open to both sexes, even if I do prefer women. Winding up with a man would not be "betraying the cause" of homosexual rights, and would not be admitting that "you can change your sexual preference". I will never stop liking girls. But if I fall in love with some perfect man out of a magazine...I shouldn't sacrifice that or my happiness to prove a point.
• ...stop thinking about my crazy, bulimic, lying ex, who stole so many years of my life, dragged me into a god given cult, and is slowly destroying the lives of herself, her husband, her child, and their friends
• ...stop fantasizing about running into them when I'm skinny and beautiful so I can prove how much better my life is without that group.
• ...learn how to talk to people and be more relaxed about it, and not be terrified of social situations
• ...get over my terror of places like clubs and bars
• ...stop cancelling on friends I haven't seen in years because I'm too ashamed for them to see me, when they've never known me as skinny as I am now...just because I still think I'm fat.
• ...have more days like today, where I actually stop to stare at myself in the mirror, because I realize that I am pretty...I'm really...really pretty.... I'm beautiful. Days where, for a moment, I can't do anything but sort of stare at my reflection, because I can't believe it's me.
• ...relearn either the piano or the saxophone - my fingers are too small for the guitar
• ...feel like I finally have my life together, and I'm proud of who I turned out to be.
• ...finally feel worthy of a female's attention.
• ...never hear a girl tell me again, "You're...not my type. You're a bit bigger than my normal type."
• ...run a 10k or half marathon
• ...remember what it's like to smile around a group of people and actually mean it
• ...finally admit to all the terrible lies and things I've done...and have someone believe them.
• ...finally admit that what he did to me when I was younger switches between being comforting, horrifying, and arousing
• ...admit that the friend who died never existed...that my mind was so fucked up and I just needed sympathy...that it was my way of trying to get attention, because I couldn't tell anybody what really happened to me
• ...feel innocent again
• ...remember something from my childhood, that I haven't made up, where I actually felt like a child, and felt innocent and loved.
• ...find the teacher who shared her lunch with me in fourth grade when my mom never showed up, and who inadvertently, through that one act, stopped me from killing myself when I was older.
• ...be able to look at my mother's family without wondering if they remember what he did, knowing that still none of them believe me.
• ...be able to look at my mother's family without wondering if they remember what he did, and worried they think that's the reason I'm gay.
• ...be free of my past
• ...feel ready to face the future
• ...feel worthy of friends
• ...feel worthy of living
• ...be worthy of all the chances I've gotten, and all the people who love me
• ...finally live

Aaaaaaand faceplant

Today was supposed to be a gym day, but I don't have a car, which makes it a bit hard. I had to take it into the shop.

I'm back at 136. Actually, 136.2 this morning, and so today, I'm just going to eat very light. I still have to eat "normally", because I have to remind myself this isn't just about control. It's about appearances, and being able to eat like a regular human being when my mother and her family come into town so that they won't realize what's going on.

My hair has stopped falling out. It feels a lot thicker and healthier. And even though I'm really...not moving on my weight, I'm getting a lot of compliments. I know I'd be losing if I could just work out regularly. I'm doing what I can at home, but there's only so much cardio you can do that's low impact without a machine to guide you, and it's not as effective. Granted, my leg is starting to feel better, and for some reason, running hurts but jumping rope doesn't...go figure, right?

So, thanks to everyone who commented on my last post. That wasn't really me being super down on myself, despite what it seems. For some reason, I get in these...moods, where I get really judgmental, but it's not the sort you would think. I will wind up stomping around my house when I'm home alone in boy shorts and a t-shirt, making weird noises and being like "FRRRRAAWWWWWWRRR I AM GODZILLAAAAAAAA" or something. Everytime I start to get really down on myself, there's like...this defensive mechanism that makes me laugh about it, because I start cracking bad jokes on my own body and then I feel way better. You can't really put a lot of energy toward being sad when you're too busy laughing to care.

Also, I had to drive my dad's MASSIVE TRUCK today. It's HUGE. I'm under 5', and this thing is like...the whale of cars. I was surprised I could reach the pedals. (Petals? Pedals? Haha, English FAIL!)
I got out of it and forgot how high up it was and fell face first in front of some of the guys I work with. To make matters worse, I hadn't buttoned up my shirt, so I was just wearing a white tank top undershirt thing, and I have these two huge black spots from the ground on my boobs that you can now see through the white button up shirt. I tried to wipe it off, but I think it's a lost cause.

Oi...it's gonna be a long day. XD

Queen Fatty of Lardassia

Fat.

Fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat fat.
Fat.

I look in the mirror. Grab handfuls of it.
Fat.
Fatty fat Mc. Fatterson. Fat Face McGee
Lady Fattybum of Lardybootius.

I hate myself.



I'm officially in a program to become a personal trainer. NASM, the premier certification training you can get. I start my course (an online one) tonight. Then I have to beg my trainer to let me shadow him. I need to understand this stuff so I can get lose my own weight faster. So I can push myself until I am skin and bones and skin and bones and skiiiiiiiin and bones. Skinny Skinny Skinny.

Not fat.

My legs? Could crush Tokyo.
If I wore shorts and ran through Japan, people would run for cover thinking a shaved King Kong had crossed the ocean from New York to take hunt down Godzilla....

...a very short, very rotund King Kong.

Maybe a descaled Godzilla.

Now I have that "GODZILLA" yell from the original, badly dubbed movie, in my head.

Also, on "Sell this House" they're beating a table with a chain to make it look "Distressed". I want to do that now. Too bad my table is glass.

I'm wiggling the fat on my arms. I'm sticking out my hands off to the side, and wiggling my arms, and watching the fat go "Jiggle jiggle jiggle jiggle".

Jiggle jiggle.

I can do it to the tune of the commercials on TV.

Also, I found a website that tells you how to say "Oh my God! There's an axe in my head!" in over 100 languages.
Just had to share that awesomeness.

I am going to go stare at my fat more.





Jigglejiggle.

Eeeeew AND ALSO

Binge.
Binge binge binge binge binge.

Two days in a row, I'll take an ambien, and eat.
It's because I'm taking a whole ambien. My migraines started kicking in because I wasn't sleeping. I wasn't sleeping because of my migraines kicking in. The insomnia got so bad the other day that I started to hallucinate while I was walking around. Really, working overnights during a meteor shower is much more interesting on nearly four days with only three hours of sleep that happened on day one. I started thinking about hidden messages in the sky. Hoorah.

So I've slept really well two days in a row, and now the ambien goes away, because I went from 136 to 138.2 this morning and I cried. Because Ambien makes me binge and eat and eat and eat. And i would ahve purged yesterday after the binge if my dad weren't home.

Oh well. Nothing left to do now but bite the bullet and work it off. I was hoping to get down under the 130's by the end of this month. Now I just want to get to 133 or something. Not sure why that's such a major number. Maybe because that's where my original goal for the end of this month was when I started (10 pounds a month was my "wishful thinking" then). I have a little over 17 days. I want to lose at least 5 pounds. I just...I can do it. I just have to buckle down.

But I can't starve.

God damn fuck.
Can I just sleep through the month and wake up skinny?
Please?


ADDED IN LATER:
I'M A PROFESSIONAL BLOGGER!
I just got a post for a major website (for the sake of anonymity, I can't say what it is) but I GOT THE JOB! It's not paid as of yet, but I can use it to promote not only my training, but my own writing! AND NOW that I've had an actual PROFESSIONAL POST I can get a REAL LITERARY AGENT! EEEE!

Now you're back with dope demand...

So my ipod is showing that sad face with the exclamation point next to it, meaning there's a hardware problem, and when I plug it into my computer, it says "please wait, battery is very low," and then does the same thing. It was starting to lag and freeze up when I would try to flip through songs on my shuffle function, so I think that there's something wrong with the power supply. The hard drive seemed to be running fine on it. I'm going to drive it out to the Apple store sometime this week (it's a 50 minute drive away) and see how much it'd cost to get it repaired, since it's out of warranty. And then I'm going to ask to watch, because I would rather know how to fix it myself.

Though thanks to you guys and your brilliance...I remembered a very wonderful thing.

I have a Samsung Omnia.

8gigs of music playing free space. I already have two movies on there, and I grabbed out my adapter for my headphones, hooked that thing up, and loaded up a bunch of Bright Eyes and Everlast, and was able to get ready for work with a smile on my little face. It was amazing.

And I magically lost a pound. Go figure, right?

I made breakfast when I got home from work. I was starving, and I decided to make something light and sweet, so I made some crepes. I used a little less butter and mostly margerine, and instead of sugar, I threw in a few drops of pure vanilla extract. They're normally about 70 calories a piece, but I think sans sugar and with the lower fat butter, I knocked them down to about 50. Served it with a bit of powdered sugar and a light touch of low fat chocolate syrup spread in a very, very light layer on top for a grand total of about 65 a piece. I had three of them, and my family devoured the rest. They were so good. Better than the original recipe for them that I had.
Also, instead of cooking them in oil, I used a light butter flavored spray, which is 0 calories. I always say it's adds at least 5 though XD But still.

Then my nephew, who's 10, decided he wanted to cook for us, so he made burgers. I resisted, because it's not very unknown that if I eat before bed I always wake up sick, and he chased me out with a spatula when he saw me watching him cook XD And when I woke up today, I went from being 138 yesterday morning, to 137 today. I was sort of all O.O about it. I haven't even been able to work out because of my fucking leg.

Oh, and my car is also broken, so until I get my breaks fixed, I can't drive out to the gym anyway :(

Hopefully C and I can do that tomorrow.

I did eat a burger. My nephew calls them him his Bunny Burgers, and he had it waiting for me when I woke up. He said he made me breakfast because I made him breakfast, and I'm sorry, but any ED can fuck itself when faced with that cuteness. I'll probably regret it later, but I think the gained pound, while it'llmake me angry and depressed later, is worth it when it comes to him. He was so proud of himself. It was the first meal he's ever cooked and I couldn't tell him no.

Besides, with a meal like that, I barely have appetite for the rest of the day. I'll probably have a few grapes and maybe some crackers before crashing out, and I'm NOT supposed to be counting calories anyway for a bit. UGH. Why can't I help myself???

Now I'm going nuts about eating it. I hate obsessing.

I think the biggest part is not being able to work out. While the scale is going down, I feel like my body is melting. Like...the muscles are turning soft, and my legs are getting fatter. I know it's all in my mind - I'm imagining things undoubtedly. But it doesn't change that I'm still SEEING it that way.

My step mom gave me a pair of jeans that haven't fit her in 10 years. They're...the greatest things I've ever put on me. They fit like a glove, and hug my legs, and make them look GOOD. And they're low rises, and have these weird pockets in the front that look like they should be back pockets, and the back pockets are shallow slits. They're old but they're perfect and soft and buttery, like good denim should be. But they're already getting baggy. They were tight when I first got them. I think it's just the denim stretching out as I wear them. I'll know after I wash them again.

Not that I'm complaining, though I sort of am. It sucks, in a weird way, to wind up finding the perfect pair of pants and then for them to no longer be perfect in a week or so. Awesome, but not. Double edged sword there XD
I'd rather be skinny, because then I can really buy REAL clothes.

Anyway.

Every now and then I start writing something really personal for you guys, and I want to share it, but I don't. I think part of it is...well, it's not ED related. It's about my childhood, actually. I was kidnapped, and I sort of want to babble about it, because I feel like it's a really fucked up story. But I think it might help some people, or at least I hope it will. I mean, it's not really depressing.

It's just different. Because when you hear "I was kidnapped" people think terrible things, but I think the part that makes it so...fucked up? Is that it wasn't like that at all. It was one of the coolest things that ever happened when I was little, despite what was done while I was there, and it confuses the hell out of my shrinks XD

I just feel like it's important for some reason, you know? Like...I really want to tell someone...and not have it be anyone who knows who I am, because I've never really said anything about it. Nothing real, anyway.

Bah. I'll think about it.

♥ ILU all. Stay strong, lovies.

GRR

My ipod broke.
This week has been shitty.
And I don't have money to pay for a new one for at least a week or two.
This is the most shitty fucking suck thing in the WORLD.

Binge Avoided

Success?
I had a bad migraine yesterday. Bad enough that I had to call into work. I haven't called in...in months, really. Forever, it seems. But I didn't binge. I ate, which I've always done with migraines, because it makes the medicine work better. But all I ate was a handful of pretzels and a spoonful of peanut butter. This morning, I weighed 138.6, which was only .4 more than I was yesterday, and I always get water gain after migraines. After a few hours, and even after breakfast, I weighed myself again, and was at 138.2. That was the biggest problem I was having with restricting - that I was binging whenever my head started to hurt. And I didn't do that this time. At all.

But yeah. I called into work, and I barely slept, because of the headache. But I've been laying around most of the day, icing my leg and cuddling with my dog. I'm considering cleaning the bathroom soon, because the tub is dirty, and I really want a bath. The heat would feel amazing on my leg. Some nice vanilla bubbles, candles, and Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture while it's still dark out? Sounds absolutely...heavenly.

I think I'm going to go do that. I have about two hours before the sun rises, so I need to get it clean now if i want a decent hour in the tub.

Stay strong lovies. And thank you all so much for your support ♥ I get sadly excited whenever i log in and see new comments.

Few days off

	The Black Eyed Peas - I Gotta Feeling
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

I'm addicted to this song. I wind up bouncing around every time I hear it. When I get my laptop back, I'm gonna buy the CD. Not sure from where, because itunes is fucking suck and doesn't let you buy it in .mp3 format, and it's stupid.

My leg? Hurts. I haven't gone to the doctor. I did it earlier this week (or like...on Thursday, so almost a week ago now. Huh.) and it's hurting worse today than it did the day after. I'm gonna go home and wrap it, and put some ice on it. Then I have to go with my friend to pick up break pads, oil, and an oil filter for my car. Hopefully it won't take too long to get all that shit done, because I plan on popping an oxy and an ambien and passing the fuck out.

I was at 138.2. I lost .2 ounces, which is good, because I didn't do a lot at the gym because I hurt. I'm thinking today is a day off, and I'll probably take another day or two after this. I'd rather take the time off and get it healed so I can go back to really working out, than continue this half ass routine of it. I'll just have to be careful with what I eat.

Broken bones, new lows, and sleepy

So.
138.4.

I can't get over it.

I was at a plateau for almost 3 weeks. And then my period hits, and BOOM, I FINALLY drop under 140. I had a burger today first thing when I woke up (my coworker bought it for me) and while I'm terrified that will fuck up my weight, I'm not really that scared. I am but I'm not. I refuse to feel guilty for it. I don't want to feel guilty for eating. Not right now, anyway.

I'm training for my first 5k. But I was stupid and pushed too hard, and didn't pay attention when my shin started hurting. I've fractured my left leg before, and i guess that makes it more sensitive to it in the future, and now I have a slight stress fracture in my tibia. It's not too terrible, and I'm sure it'll be mostly healed in the next few days. I've been taking it easy at the gym, only doing 40 minutes of aerobics, and only non impact stuff. I focus the rest of my time there on weights or just swimming.

It's the monthly time. It makes me so fucking tired, and one of my friends suggested it might be anemia. I have PMDD or whatever, and so does she, but she said that some tests she got showed she gets severely anemic on her period, which causes migraines, anger issues, and exhaustion. So I'm going to buy some iron supplements to see if it helps. Because no joke, I fell asleep walking. My coworker blamed it on me not eating breakfast and bought me a burger (we work nights so there's no breakfast food available...)

So I've brought my food intake up to a normal level. There are a few reasons for this. The overall one is the need to get my metabolism working again. I've been pushing hard at the gym, and when I'm not suffering from a stress fracture, I tend to burn over 1000 calories a session, and with how little and how rarely through out the day I was eating, it had shut my body down completely. I was storing everything.

It's taken a while to get used to it, and just increasing a little was making so nauseous. I eat every 2-3 hours, and I'm at about 1000-1200 calories a day right now, sometimes less, but I try not to go below or over those two numbers. When you eat more often, it actually keeps your metabolism moving, which is one of my greatest mistakes last time. Even just a few grapes every few hours forces your metabolism to keep burning, which burns more calories, and doesn't allow it to go into store mode as quick.

The other reason is because of control. I was binging more and more often, and with more and more terrible numbers. It was brought on by migraines, which were triggered any time I went under 700 calories, and were coming every other day. I would be good with 600 calories for one day, and the next, I would get a migraine and wind up eating 3000. I wasn't able to throw away food anymore, and if something was in front of me, I wouldn't just eat it - I would eat until I got sick. So I figured it was worth eating more so I wasn't as tempted. It's been working, actually. Yesterday I threw out a cookie. Today, I turned away fries without any pain or urge to take them. I just honestly didn't want them. I've found I don't like the foods I used to love before this, like pizza or pastas...they feel too heavy, and I focus on how they feel in my stomach, and how I feel emotionally after them, and I'm not tempted anymore.

Then there's the family and friends coming into town. Everyone centers around going out to eat for family functions, which, if I weren't used to eating, would be disasterous. Especially if I were at that point where I was not so long ago, where I couldn't stop binging.

It's sort of funny. I met up with some friends I hadn't seen in a while, and we all went out to eat. I had actually already had a peanut butter sammich before, which is the greatest deliciousness in the world, so I wasn't that hungry. But I stole some of their appetizers, and then ordered a desert of strawberries, cream, and some little angelfood cake slices. It actually wasn't that terrible for you when I looked up the calorie count (only like, 190 cals, shockingly enough...but it was with vegan cream!). But as we were leaving, one of my friends who knew me when I went through my bad time in High School with drugs and ED's goes, "You know...I thought you had become anorexic again or something. It's really good to see you eat."
And I laughed, put my arm around her shoulders, and said, "Honey, anorexic's can't eat delicious cake. I don't have that sort of will power." And she laughed and looked really relieved. And I sort of wanted to dance, because it's like...

I have control.

I have control to starve when I want.

And I have control to eat when I want.

I have control of my disorder, as strange as that sounds. I know myself well enough to know when I need to eat again, and I know myself well enough to know when I can starve and it'll work. It's an experiment with my body, and I'm in control enough that nobody really suspects anything. It's weird...but...while on some level, I know what I'm doing isn't right...it's sort of like...well...what defines a disorder? A sickness?

I'm not suffering. And I'm not troubled by my behavior. And it's not affecting my life in a negative manner. In fact, I'm healthier than I have been in a long time, and I'm happier than I've been. So according to that, I do not have a disorder at all. I know I struggle with food and my relationship with it, but I feel like, even though I'm eating...I'm in control.
I stopped my binging by eating more, and when I'm settled enough and people aren't visiting anymore, I'll restrict again, and then work up to eating normal, and restrict, and just keep my metabolism on it's toes, you know?

I'm in control.

I'm out of my binge cycle. I don't binge anymore. It's very nice.


Anyway...
If you read this, you get massive kudos, because this is a long and boring entry.

ALSO
after the 10th I'll be posting some before and after pics, even though I'm not even CLOSE to the weight I want yet. I still have about 35 pounds to go, but I'm lower than I think I ever remember. In fifth grade I was at 135...so...yeah. I mean...I'm in the 130's. Do you know how awesome that is? When I was in the 190's when I started?
When I lost another 10 pounds, I'll be in the 20's...god...I just...I can't even imagine it.
I just...I can't even wrap my mind around it.

This is so amazing...

♥ the end!