A Before and After of Myself

So I'll tell you all about what happened later, when I'm not trying to work up the courage to message the person who lost my pants, and ask if they wanna come have a repeat performance to help me ring in the new year :3

Instead, I'll post this. Since it's 4 minutes until 2010, I've decided to have a look at how I was when the year started, and how I am now that it's ended. You've all seen part of these before pictures, but this after is my most recent picture, taken just a couple of hours ago. This is a years worth of progress. But considering that I actually started in April, despite the before pictures being taken in December, thsi is more like 7 months of progress.

From between 197-200 lb's, to 121.

Here it is.

[Baaahleted D: ]

Here's to hoping my 2010 photos turn out even better!s

:D

It all happens so fast. One minute, you're just two friends. The next, you're wondering where the hell your pants went.


This has been an awesome week.

A little girl so filled with lies....

I want to tilt back my head and scream.
But I don't. I keep it
bottled up and locked away
safely guarded by the sweet and murmuring sisters
that reside inside of me.
I'm failing Ana.
Mia tempts me more and more but I
still make excuses.
(You'll find a way around them).
She whispers sweet and subtle.

Head,
bowed,
solitude. Trapped in failure.
How to explain the utter pain that comes
with eating
just
one
donut.
Everyone else is laughing and
all you can do is go to the bathroom
and
pinch your body.
Handfuls of fat.
Handfuls of hatred.


Hatred.
I wish
I could
take
a
knife
and
scrape
out
all
that
makes
me
unclean.

But then I'd be hollow and empty.
Even my beloved bones would have to go.
I'm corrupted to my core.

Even my marrow is fetid.



Filthy, filthy, no control--
Obese cow, pig, pig, pig
pig, cow, keep eating, keep--
--no. No. Food must go down, away from lips but
Mia? No, I cannot,
people will hear so I have to try and refrain
but--
--why am I not strong enough to starve?
Because you are not good enough for me.
Why do I still keep you around?
Please don't leave me, Ana.



I'm afraid of failing.
Afraid of getting better.
Pinching fat.
Blood coagulated from lies and dirt inside of me.
The filth of my own mind
perhaps has sullied my body
and made it no longer able to lose
the way another person should.
I know I can never be loved
the way other people seem.
Who could love me when they discover the monster
hiding
behind these
eyes?



A little girl so filled with lies
lives in the overflowing loneliness
of her crowded, solitary mind.

My Self Portrat

I look in the mirror, and what do I see?
The eyes of dysmorphia staring back at me.

I drew my reflection.

Picture only up for 24 hours because my face is in it.

[removed]

The thing around the face is the double chin. The darkness under the eyes the puffiness, and the lines around them the wrinkles. The lines on my breasts are the stretch marks. I didn't draw the grosser female bits because they're too icky and I didn't wanna do that. I left out some of the stretch marks. The marks on my face are the huge pores, and you can't really see the huge ears. Notice how bad my posture is, and how hunched forward it is. Like a fat monstrous ball. With fat hands that are small, but somehow always appear to look like monstrous things no matter what I do with them.
And on the bottom right, it basically says
"Bad Breasts
"Bad Vagina
"Bad Body
"Unworthy of being a woman"

Blurgh....eeeeeeew. Cartoonish, and I know it's over the top to a point, but I feel like it really is accurate no matter how much I try to deny it. Ugh

What do you guys see when you look in the mirror?

Proooocrastination....

Control hasn't been going too well.
Didn't go to dinner, but had a major migraine brought on by combo if bad sleeping/meds/hormones, and got fast food. Amazingly, I haven't gained.

Went to gym, and beat my best time for running the 4 mile. Instead of 44:44, I got down to 42:09. Awesome.

Also got invited out with some friends I haven't seen since High School, who didn't really like me very much at the time, because I was a huge drug addict and not really in the best places emotionally. I have to switch days with someone at work, and really want to do this, because the guy who invited me is in the military and about to head back to the Middle East. I'm really scared. I know I'm skinnier than they've ever seen me but I'm still worried about how I look. It totally consumes my mind now.

Heading off to the gym again. I'm trying to figure out when I want to experiment with starving through the migraine, to see if i can get it to go away without eating. Going to need a time when I can get a few days off work and my parents won't be around a lot so I have to plan it carefully.

I also have $200 from Christmas and i'll probably get another $200 for my birthday in exactly a month now. I'm turning 23. Holy shit. My mom'll probably give me $100. Which if I save this, then I can have about $500 or $600 (if I manage to save another $100) and then I need to find out what I want to spend it on. I'm thinking a whole new work out wardrobe to encourage myself to get up and actually move, but I'm also considering things like a bed or maybe a new phone. But I have Verizon, and the Droid (by Moto, not HTC) looks absolutely awesome, but I flirted with a coorporate rep over the holidays at one of the Verizon stores, and he told me that I shouldn't buy it, but wait until summer when "something that'll blow it out of the water" is going to come out and it's going to be a 4G phone instead of a 3G. So I think I might wait, but I don't know yet.

I really don't want to go to the gym. I'm tired, and lazy, and I have a lot of house work to do, but I can't even bring myself to get up. I've been wanting to go to the gym for the past four hours now but I accidentally left my Zune on while I was sleeping and didn't realize it was dead until I was about to head out so had to charge it and then I fell asleep for a little bit and naps always kill my will power. Blahblahblah.

Okay, putting on shoes and leaving now.



Honest. I really am.
Blah.




PS
Anybody who says perfection doesn't exist needs to go to my gym at 6am and watch the girls who show up. Yesterday there were girls who had bodies that I could only dream of. They were short and tiny with full breasts and think legs and long torsos and pretty arms, and they were flexible and and skinny. One girl was balancing on one foot and brought her knee up to her forehead.
Of course, while most people would think they're ballerinas, I know the truth.
Strippers and fake breasts. You could see the hint of a fading scar on one girls. It's how people pay for plastic surgery out here. I just wanna save up somehow for it. I have a consultation with a plastic surgeon in February, because I wanna get down a little more on my weight. We're going to see how much a breast lift and augmentation would be (since my boobs are embarassing and saggy and have extra skin now since weight loss, and I'm self conscious because they're not full D's anymore), as wella s getting the pores on my face smaller and some of the stretch marks lazered away. That's the two things I wanna have done the most. But I'm also going to get a quote on a nose job and what it would cost to get work done on the ah...female parts. There's surgery you can do to make it "prettier" if things aren't to your liking, and my bits are actually a huge area of anxiety for me. I know the boob job will probably be about $15,000, and the pores will probably be about $1000-$2000. But I dunno! Hopefully they have financing. I'd like my tits and pores done before the end of 2010.

This entry turned longer than expected,b ut that's what procrastination does.

LEAVING NOW HONEST REALLY.

The cheese fucking LIES

I did my grocery shopping.

Not a lot. Just some TV dinners, and I went to get some cheese and a few things for work and a gift card for my nephew. Everything was okay, a little, until I had been walking around a bit, and started to get nervous. I had to go into the baking aisle to see if I could find gluten and soy free mixes for my stepmom (she's got an allergy to both), and when I was there, I started to hyperventilate. Just breathing really hard, looking at it all wide eyed, and just...terrified. Absolutely terrified. I didn't find anything, so I went to look at cheeses, and as I was examining each separate bag, I started noticing the discrepancies in measurements.

28g (1/4 cup)--80 calories, on a package of Kraft.
28g (1/3 cup)--90 calories, on a package of storebrand.




....whatwhatWHAT?

Wait.
So. Same grams, different measurements? I don't have a food scale. How does one weigh more? Is the cheese more tightly packed? Are they rounding? What's really the difference? If I use 1/3 cup of the Kraft, or go over, then how much am I actually consuming? What's the true calorie count? How is 28g's a different measurement on each package? What if they're lying and I'm actually eating a lot more than 90 calories? I'm already convinced my Cookie Crisp box is lying to me, and I add on 20 extra calories for every bowl of cereal I eat. So what if the cheese is lying to me, too?

I broke one bag there because I started squeezing it so hard and didn't realize it.

Then I broke another one. The bag i did buy had a cut on it that I didn't notice--not caused by squeezing. But now my hands are red from wringing them out so violently, and I feel woozy. I did manage to buy some things. And I bought bacon. 70 calories for 4 slices, but then I started thinking about just what's in those slices.

Fat.
Pig fat.
Greasy, greasy fat. Shit that turns to liquid, and then HARDENS. It SOLIDIFIES. I'm trying to get fat off of me, and I'm slicing open an animal, and eating the fat in it. How does that work? Yes, calories are calories, no matter what form they come in, but this is fat. It's going to solidify in my body, and it won't burn off like it should, and I don't know why that is but my mind is CONVINCED that I will NEVER get rid of it because it will build up in my heart and my veins and I'll get fat and have a heart attack from it and it's going to fucking KILL ME and now I can't even look in the fridge because I'm afraid it's going to wind up making me fat just BEING in there.



I'm using it for dog food.




I bought carrots. I think I need more vegetables. I got home, and ate some carrots. One whole bag of the raw carrot chips is 175 calories. It's only 35 calories per serving, 5 servings a bag. I can't eat a whole serving. They fill me up.

They taste sweet and like safety.




They don't taste like lies.




All my other food taste like lies and poison.

I just spent nearly $100 on food that could be lying to me. I feel paranoid, but I think I'm still in the full swing of the anxiety attack. Could you imagine how terrifying that would be to find out that your nutrition information is wrong? And how could it be right? Have you ever looked at boxes of Eggo Waffles? How is one waffle 90 calories, but two waffles are 200? How the fuck are they rounding? What's missing? What the fuck aren't they TELLING US?

I want to go throw it all in the trash and scream, but I don't have time to cook anything, and all my TV dinners are (supposedly) under 230 calories.




I think I might switch to a raw veg. diet. Iceburg lettuce, carrots, zuchinni, and I'll buy raw organic nuts that I can cook up myself. I'll have soy beans, and fruit, and maybe, MAYBE some cheeses, but I don't know.

I don't know if I want that in me.
I'm so sick of gross things going inside of me.
I want natural and pure things.
I would prefer nothing.





I get migraines if I fast.
But maybe if I stop eating, and I starve myself through the pain, then my body will get used to it, and the headache will go away.

I think after the holidays, I'm going to try.


I'm so fucking hungry to be thin.

3...2...1....and ANXIETY

I woke up this morning, and for the first time in months, the thought of food absolutely terrified me.
It was blessed. And wonderful. I kept wanting to cry because I just kept thinking of all I had put in my mouth, and how fat I was. I had a quarter of a salmon patty, some white rice, some pretzel sticks, a 100 cal snack, and a teaspoon of peanutbutter. All before bed yesterday. I stared at myself in the mirror when I woke up and nearly sobbed. My face is crooked and fat. My eyes are uneven. My arms are hideous. My stomach is buldging. My pants are tight. My new size 4's are starting to be truly a squeeze. As it is, I'm starting to get this sheer panic for wearing clothing that actually fits. The tight shirts i had started to buy are all being shoved into the deepest bowels of my closet in favor of sweat pants and baggy tops, because I'm so afraid of fat showing when I sit down and people realizing how big I am.

Logically, I know, despite maintaining a steady weight of about 122-124 or 125 (I haven't been using my own scale at home, but the one at the gym, and it's hard to read sometimes), that I have to have lost something. The size small sweat pants that I got from Kohls--adorable things, actually--aren't tight anymore. They hang around my ass. The size small Victoria's Secret boyshorts my stepmom got me for Hannukah are only a little tight, whereas just two months ago, I couldn't even pull them up when I tried on a similar pair.

I know my legs have gotten smaller. And I fit into a size 8 dress at a very expensive women's clothing store that I would never have walked into before I started this. And their sizes, one of the workers said, run smaller than most stores because they "haven't changed their measurement standards like other stores." One dress, when I was looking at in the three way mirror outside of the dressing room, gave me such a small waist. I had the clerk helping me (you get assigned a clerk, ok?) actually say, "What brand corset are you using? You can't even see the lines!"

There's at least one thing my short, Russian side gives me. It's curves to rival Bettie Boop. But that also means thick legs. And thick arms. And my body seems to WANT to be fat sometimes.
Short chubby Russians. And my mother is short, stocky Irish. Hoorah for the gene pool.

But I see knee high and thigh high socks, and know my calves are too fat for them.

I know some of them I couldn't even pull up.

I was at Target, and saw so many cute OTK's, and I knew they would pinch the fat on my thighs, and I almost started to cry. I've lost 73lbs+, and I'm still not able wear even a pair of knee highs.

And I was tired yesterday, and went home after Target, and I ate my emotions.
And when I realized what I did today, it was like I could hear that voice of Ana in my head again.
"How do you think you got this way? Do you think food will ever help you? What has food done for you? It betrays you. You tried to eat it, and what happened? You get migraines, and can't sleep, and have terrible nightmares. You have chest pain, and sickness, and shaking. Yes, it was hard to get used to me, and I made you sick sometimes like food did, but sickness from me is beautiful and delicate. What's sickness from food? You're fucked either way--at least with me, people will still like you."


And I could hear myself. As I"m standing there, pinching the fat on my body, thinking, I hate this. I hate this so much. I hate how I look. Why am I still so fat?
And there, in the background, the voice of my willpower--the voice that started me on this to begin with.
"You've always eaten your emotions. Now you're trying to change habits. Most people gain back weight because they let their fuck ups snowball. Are you happy with your habits? And are you happy with the weight you are now?"
No.
"...then change."



It's really that easy, isn't it?

Change.
In the words of Nike--Just Do It.

It's how i started in April.
I've always said to myself, "I'm fine with being a fat bastard, and when the day comes when I don't like it anymore, then I'll stop."
And then April 1st, I decided suddenly, "All right. I'm done with this now."



It was a switch.

There's no other way to describe it.

One day I ate, the next day I stopped.

It's like that now, in a way. I keep hearing myself in my head,
"...then change."

So what, now what? as my dad would say. So what if you're still fat, now what are you going to do about it? So what if you fucked up? Now how are you going to fix it?

So what if you're broke? Now how will you make money?



Yes, there's a problem. Now fix it.




But I'm scared. My dad's brother is having Christmas dinner at his house. His kids are naturally skinny and beautiful. They're all rich. They're making prime rib, lobster bisque, pineapple upside down cake, potatos, and various other things. I'm bringing a relish tray with lots of carrots to fill up on. They haven't seen me since I was at about 150-160, but the idea of going there, while still like this...I feel fatter. I feel worse. I feel horrible.

They all want to see me. I'm tempted to shit out and say I feel sick or something, because I sleep during the day, but my family won't forgive me.
They're all going there at 3pm, and since I sleep days, I'm able to show up around six. I might "accidentally oversleep" and show up at 7, after dinner, so I can just munch on carrots, and be able to choose a place to eat where no one can see me, and find a way to toss it without them knowing.

I'm so scared of this dinner.

I just got my strength back today.
I don't want to lose it again.




I wish I could just fall to the ground, kick like a child, and scream my throat bloody.
Or curl up and hide until the holidays are over.

I hate December.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl filled with lies....



When did it start?
Did I wake up on April 1st, 2009, and suddenly decide not to eat anymore? To have a fucked up relationship with food?

When did the lies become part of me?
When did the exhaustion start to peel away at my will and weigh down my body with mounds of fat, or strip away the fat and weigh down my soul with mounds of deceit?

When did I give up?
When did I decide to start again?
What triggered that switch?

Did I migrate from disorders?
I remember as a child, standing in my room, working out relentlessly until I was too tired to move. And then, at only 11 years old, going into the bathroom and slicing at my shins with a razor blade. Shoving safety pins into my arms. I remember hiding in my room and eating and feeling so ashamed. Fluctuating weight, never knowing when to stop. Always hating myself.
Crash diets, violent binges.

When did it stop becoming "I'm just another dieter and can't help it" to, "...I should just not eat?"



I still hide in my room and shove my face full.
I did it last night.
I blame the ambien, but I think it's just this thing come out that can never stop. Even when I'm full and bloated, and close to throwing up, and my head is buzzing from the sugar rush, I just don't stop. I would kill myself through eating if it were possible, and cry the whole fucking time.

I can't have a normal relationship with food.
I try, and I abuse it.
So I have to refrain.

I just need to remember how to do that again.

I'm so tired.


She did not know why the lies were there, but she liked them. The lies were safe and protected her from the scariness of the real world, cushioning her from all the pain that came with things outside of her own mind. And so she began to believe her lies, and as she believed them, so did everyone else around her, and she sometimes wished someone would see through it, but she was too afraid of what that would mean to really wish for it too hard. She was sad, but she was happy; this little girl so filled with lies.

Refeeding Syndrome; Back to Restricting

So...

...I'm restricting again.

throughraindrops mentioned refeeding syndrome, which I had read a little bit about, but didn't really pay much attention to. I do things very gungho, which is a side effect of the ADD and probably the borderline (I have a case of borderline personality, brought on by trauma from when I was younger. It's a very mild case compared to most, and some doctors think it's actually PMDD--hormone related--instead of a behavior problem. I don't even know anymore XD).

I realized that I jumped into this way too fucking quick. Too much too soon. So I'm cutting back to 700-800 calories, and then I'll work my way up slowly, if I decide to really start eating normal.

I caved and took my blood pressure. When I'm at my healthiest, my stats are 108/60, and my heart rate is at a steady 82-84, which is still high, and I want to improve on. But when I took my stats today, I was at 128/87, with a pulse of 92 or 96 (I forget). I had a migraine that was absolutely terrible. And when I tried to sleep it off, I had nightmares. Really gory bloody fucking nightmares. My mood has just been shit, and I've been more depressed than I can ever remember.

So I'm back to restricting. Not for weight loss. But just for my fucking mental health.
My experiment in eating normal completely failed.
If I decide to try and go up again, then I'll do it slowly and carefully. But I got offered a chance at probably the best damn job (Or at least a chance to work for the best fucking company) in all of the Western US, and their benefits are to die for. So since this is just...really dangerous, it seems, I'm going to keep doing like I have with restricting, take more vitamins, make sure all my calories that I eat are USEFUL calories (instead of empty sugars), and if I can get this job, then I'll wait until my new insurance kicks in, and go to a specialist (if I still want to start eating normal again).

I do eventually want to get better. I realize this. I do want to be able to eat normal. But I think I'm smart enough to realize that I'm not really capable of doing that fully on my own. In the past week since I've a) started to entertain the idea, and b) implemented an action to eat normal, I've become depressed beyond all reason, self conscious to the point of crying about my body (and i don't cry very often about shit like that), despondent, consistently sick, completely losing interest in day to day activities, barely able to hold a conversation, and hardly able to get up the energy or will power to do such simple things as shower or clean.

Point is, I think even before I started restricting the first time I was depressed fairly often. Since I've started, I feel like I've cleaned out my body of a lot of the excess that was hurting it, and I just need to be smarter about it.
This is my choice, in the end. And while I need to make sure I don't get to the point of what drove me to try a crash attempt at eating normal, I think it's best for me, overall, to just...try and maintain an even ground.

My new minimum is 700. My max is 1200. I will still try to lose weight, but I must make sure to do certain things every day. I will perform stretches and core exercises when I wake up in the morning (not actual work outs, but things to activate the muscles that stabilize the spine, to cut back on back pain and migraines), make sure to take a multivitamin (with B-complexes in it) and iron supplements every day, eat at least one serving of vegetables and fruits, avoid "empty calories" of pure sugary substances, and never, ever, ever let myself purge again. I will monitor my exercise to make sure I never go past two hours spent working out (a maximum of 1 hour, 15 minutes of cardio, with a preference of an hour, and approximately 45 minutes of weights). And if I ever feel like I need certain nutrients (carbs, etc., and need being different from a craving), then I will listen to my body, even if it will force me past my calorie limit, so as to ensure that I do not get as sick as I did and land my ass back in the urgent care with failing organs.

Awesome.

Oh, did I mention that when I woke up with my headache, and with my high blood pressure in a dangerous zone for my own self, that I had severe chest pain and was convinced I was going to have a heart attack?



Fuck those assholes at clinics that shove girls full of food when they first arrive.
I have a healthy heart, but all that sugar and excess and shit ass rushing my system like a linebacker nearly did me in more violently than any restrictive behavior I've ever done.

Holy hell.



Also, to anyone reading this trying to learn how I did it, or hoping to do what I am?
Don't.
Don't be an idiot.
Don't start this.
Get help.

I realize that now. This was stupid to even start, because now I'm trapped.
Do it right, do it with a doctors help, and don't do it like I did.
Because yes, it's been effective up until now, but my health problems I'm suffering because of this aren't really worth it, and it's filled with shame, and self horror, and lots of negative things, and all you become is this giant bundle of LIES. So many lies that you forget who you are around other people, and when you try and confront just how miserable you are inside, you can't do it, and you can't reach out for help, because it'll shatter the way everyone else in this world sees you, and it's the worst feeling in the world.

So...if you're thinking of starting, don't.
Don't try to make yourself this way.
If you're starting to act this way, get help now before it gets worse.

I don't think you'll talk to anyone who has an eating disorder (either restrictive like I have, or full blown fasting anorexia or bulimia or even COED) will ever recommend this. I don't think we should ever give tips on how to start. I only support people who already have it. Because there's no one else out there who sees this ugliness in us, and who still loves us.
So we gotta love each other while we're in this hole. Someone needs to know, or I think we'd all die so much easier.

Don't crawl in here with us.
It's not a very nice feeling to be in it.

And thus concludes my preaching.

Why does eating hurt?

I keep writing.



AGH.

I made it to 1200 today. I feel sick. I want to make myself sick. But I can't. I need to prove myself that I can be okay.

This is only for 1 month. 30 days. I can do this for thirty days.

This is day 3 of 30.

27 left until I can go back to restricting.

I feel sick. I feel cold. I feel lethargic and exhausted.
I have a migraine. I'm thirsty. So freaking thirsty.

Why does it hurt to eat now?

So there's a lot to tell you guys.

Long story short, I'm trying to prove to myself that I don't need help by eating 1200-1500 calories a day, and since I accidentally spilled the secret to my psych, I'm switching psychiatrists so I don't have ot get weighed regularly. I can't stop losing, and I'm terrified of being forced to get better.
I can lose regularly.
But I can't be taken off my ADD meds, which he tried to do. I can't go back to how i was before. To how chaotic my mind was.


Anyway, I think I realized i was happier before I decided to confront this as being a sickness. It's not that I'm going to stop. I'm going to try, or at least...try to maintain a healthy caloric amount for a little bit, until my immune system comes back, and my finger nails are no longer a consistent shade of blue. I think I just need to try and self manage, and just...not go as extreme as I did before, but still keep low cal/tight control, until I manage to get a better job with better insurance, and can go see someone to help me relearn how to eat again. Someone to help me get control, so I don't inhale fucking EVERYTHING when I'm not paying attention.

I was COED before. I'm apparently a purge-anorexic. Since the extremes I do in exercise counts as purging. Who knew? But I restrict severely (600-800 cals to them is severe. Go figure.) and when I eat too much I go work out until i collapse.

And someone asked how I get the willpower. I just want to say I don't. If I don't work out, I get so depressed. So...I don't know what to tell you,b ut yeah...it is sort of like asking a bulimic how they get the will power to throw up. It's not that it takes willpower to do it. It takes willpower to NOT do it.



Anyway.


I think Iwas happier when I was eating less.
Because now I just got back from the gym, and I still have...jesus...800 calories left to eat. And I broke down crying in the car, because the thought of trying to eat ALL OF THAT makes me feel sick. This is my third day now. The first two days of it, I literally felt like a marathon runner of food, or like Thomas the Train trying to get up some massive hill and plowing through the god damned sandwhich mountain. I felt so sick partway through each meal and I stopped TASTING things. The first day after reaching 1200, I was in cold chills and shaking. I realized a binge is WAY different than a steady consumption of large amounts of food.


If I don't make it to 1200 today, then I think I'll be okay with that.
I'm doing this to get my nutrition levels back up. To prove to myself that I have control and can eat as much as I want, and get better when I want.

so now to put that theory to action.




I think I can, I think I can.

Survey

Your Favorites
1. Color: Dunno. It varies, depending on mood.
2. Scent: Oriental Spice sort of things. The warm, spicy, sensual smells
3. Mascara: L'oreal, the kind that that adds on those weird tubes with that white stuff first.
4. Eyeshadow: A very cheap brand that goes on smoother than most designer ones and is a lot prettier, too. I forget the name of it right now.
5. Lip gloss/Lipstick: Deep reds
6. Beauty trick: Lots, mostly involving stuff with eyeshadows, and how to line the eyes with up to six colors, while making it all look pretty still.
7. Song to sing in the car: Nine Inch Nails, Tub Ring, or Nekoromantix (Mostly "Who Killed the Cheerleader?")
8. Song to sing in the shower: Sophie B Hawkins "Mr Tugboat"
9. Model: Marcelina Sowa holds a place in my heart ♥
10. Celebrity crush: Oh good one. Hmm....I'd have to say Gina Torres. Because of Firefly *nods* And that one girl who plays Saffron in it. I forget her name now, but she was the star of that movie Hunger Point (the girl with the red hair?)
11. TV show: Firefly, Criminal Minds, Invader Zim
12. Movie: THIS IS SUCH A TIE. Between: The Boondock Saints, V for Vendetta, Inglorious Bastards, Juno, and Religulous
13. Author: JR Ward.

The Last Thing You...
1. Saw at the movies: I think it was Inglorious Basterds?
2. Bought as a Christmas present: A locket for my girly-face (aka, my girlfriend).
3. Read for fun: Pssh. A manga
4. Watched on TV: Criminal Minds
5. Heard on the radio: Some R&B techno stuff on the way to work. I forget what song it was XD

Right Now, It's
[ ] below zero
[X] just plain cold
[ ] sunny
[ ] snowing
[ ] rainy
[ ] windy
[ ] overcast
[X] late
[ ] early
[ ] afternoon

Your Appearance & Opinions
1. Your Eye color: Varies between blue, gray, and green
2. Your Hair color: Currently black
3. A color you would like to dye your hair someday: I'd like to go back to dark blue, or else add pink streaks to my hair now
4. Name someone who has sexy hair: Katja Shchekina
5. Name someone with pretty eyes: Edyta Zajac
6. Your favorite facial feature: Eyes. Sometimes, my lips.
7. Name someone with the perfect pout: CeCe LaRue (I just totally forgot her new name she's going by :O!)
8. Your least favorite body parts: Uuuh, my whole body? XD Ugly female bits (top and bottom), fat legs, fat arm, fat back, fat butt, fat tummy...uh...fat sides! Fat face, too. I just dislike the fat.
9. Name at least one person who thinks you're attractive: The guy at the chiropractors office
10. The last compliment you received: Guy 1 (in slightly choppy English, he's adorable XD ) "You lost good weight!" Guy 2: "I know. I didn't even recognize her first time I saw her. It looks good on you, you know that?"

Complete the Sentence
I feel sexy when.... my hair is done, my make ups done, I'm in a cute pair of heels, and my stomach is flat from being hungry.
It makes me laugh when boys... find out I'm gay after hitting on me for a while, and they get that downtrodden look.
The funniest joke I've heard recently is... All the recent ones have been bad and cheesy thanks to a certain coworker, so...I can't remember any that were good atm XD
The movie I'm really excited for is... BOONDOCK SAINTS II: ALL SAINTS DAY, and Alice in Wonderland
What I want for Xmas is... My bills paid! But my parents are getting a gift certificate to a sporting goods store, so I can finally get some good workout clothes!

You are...
[x] overweight (BMI greater than 25)
[X] considered at a healthy weight (BMI of 18.5-25) (I don't know my weight right now, or my BMI, and while I have been at a healthy range for a while, I feel like I've gained, so I think I'm back above 25 :( )
[ ] underweight (BMI of less than 18.5)
[ ] bulimic
[X] EDNOS
[ ] anorexic
[ ] trying to lose 1-5 lbs.
[ ] trying to lose 5-10 lbs.
[ ] trying to lose 10-20 lbs.
[x] trying to lose 20-30 lbs.
[ ] trying to lose 30+ lbs.
[X] unhappy with your weight/appearance
[ ] at your highest weight currently
[ ] at your lowest weight currently

You have...
[X] lost your virginity
[X] binged
[X] made yourself vomit
[X] abused laxatives
[ ] had more than 5 shots in one night
[X] kissed a girl
[X] smoked cigarettes
[X] smoked pot
[X] done coke/meth/ecstasy/heroin
[X] a tattoo (or plan on getting one)
[ ] piercings in other places besides your ears
[ ] gone skinny dipping
[X] watched porn
[ ] woke up not realizing where you were
[X] walked in on someone having sex

Quick Update

I can't tell you how many attempted updates I've had, but I swear to myself that I'm going to write up this post and click the submit no matter WHAT. I am not getting up from this chair until this entry is done.

So quick recap.
I fucking FAILED. I gained like, 5 pounds last weekend, and then the past two days I've busted ass and got myself back down to 123.6 lb's. So I'm back on restricting and gymming very hard.
Yesterday, I did 30 minutes on a treadclimber at 3.5 mph with varying intensity. Then I ran 4 miles in 44 minutes, and had an extra 15 minutes or so spent in the warm up/cool down phase (walking at a steady pace), so all together, about an hour and 30 minutes worth of hard cardio, burning around 870.7 kcal. Then I did 45 minutes of weights.

I worked out the day before that, also, but not as intensely.
Today is a doctors appointment, and a day off from the gym.

Then I go back on Thursday, and off on Friday (because of another doctors appointment) and I do gym Saturday and Sunday. w00t. I'm going to get this weight off. I want to be 120 lb's by the end of the month.

SO that's my quick update.

I also barely avoided a binge after the gym, because I had a bag of baked potato chips. I had four before realizing what I was doing, and pouring cleaning chemicals into the bag and chucking them in the trash, so I wouldn't be tempted to dig them out of the garbage.

That's all I can think of for now. Sorry it's not interesting or anything.

And *HUGS* to everyone who commented on my last post.
And YellowBrick, I fucking ♥ you. Thank you for what you said. It was very sweet and much needed.

Stay strong, girlies (and boyos).

...

Surprisingly, I don't have anything to say.
I'm too tired.
Too done.
Binge-purge-binge-purge.
Last night sucked.
Bagel. Slice of corn bread.
Alllllll gone after eating. Didn't help at all.

Migraines always make me heavy.
but 2 pounds?
124.6 today.
Water weight?

Going to the gym after work.
For now, I'm going to try and make the night go by quicker.

I'm really sick of pretending to be okay, just so people like me. I'm tired. I'm sick. I'm depressed.
I don't want to deal with anyone elses insecurities right now.
I have enough of my own.

♥
Stay strong, babies.
I need the inspiration right now.

PrettyWreck

122.

To be honest, I'm not really pissed.
I knew that yesterday I was over eating. And I was the one who made the choice to sate my own nostalgia and buy Challa a day early in celebration for Hannukah, and because I had such a rough time with the doctor (they said I was DEPRESSED, that it WAS NOT side effects--fuck them, I still changed meds, and refused their attempts to give me anti-anxiety drugs. My shrink doesn't want me touching xanax or downers, because they make me super low). I won't even pretend that was well intentioned. I was shaky, and fighting off a migraine, and I knew it would be fresh baked, and I so rarely, rarely, get good, warm, home made Challa, since my family stopped going to temple every Friday.

That wouldn't have been bad, I think. But then before bed, I wound up eating again. I had taken my new antibiotic, and it made my back hurt where my kidneys were. So I panicked, and started to eat. Pretzels, chocolate, peanut butter. I was out of my normal "OSHITBINGE" food, which...oddly...is carrot chips, which are thinly sliced raw carrots. I eat those because I get full quick, and I actually love the way they taste, more than even regular potato chips. They're so cold, and crispy, and you can dip them in ranch (even full fat, with how much I use, adds only 25kcal to a 20kcal snack), or even have a little bit of crunchy peanut butter with them or sometimes, if I'm feeling REALLY bad, a little bit dipping cup of melted margirin, cinamon, and a touch of sugar (which all together adds about 40kcal to them? Still not bad, considering it's stopped me from going for like, the hershey bars before XD!) But yeah...I don't have any of those, so I wound up just...gorging.

I mean...it was more controlled than my normal Ambien-induced binges. But yeah.
The fact that I only gained .8? It was...kind of a relief.
Not that I didn't gain more with how much shit I ate total yesterday--though that is a MAJOR relief, mind--but the fact that I gained at all.

Weird that, isn't it?
But...I gained.
And I didn't gain EVERYTHING back.
It means that this isn't...some water weight loss. Or a "fake loss" that you get when sick, or just...some fluke.
It means this is really my number. That the scale is creeping down like it has been.

I think part of it is the work out, but also the fact that I haven't been EATING before bed. I've been CONTROLLING those binge urges for the first time in like...months. And the first time I do eat before crawling into bed? I gain.
But not a full pound. Not twelve pounds. Nothing like that.

It's also...I don't know.
lol
I was losing really quick, and I didn't know why, and I was worried it wasn't REAL loss, and that it would all just...come back the first time my eating got out of hand.
But it didn't.
I'm sort of happy I got that out of the way.



I wanted to go running today. Now that I'm off those devil pills, I've been feeling a lot better, but I've had a migraine trying to form. I think it's part of the symptoms of that medication still, from having only been off of it for a day. And other things.
Jesus.

I work through my weekend. I get Sunday night and Monday night off, instead. Which isn't too terrible. It means next week is a short week.



Awesome. In the time it took me to finish that sentence, currently girly just drove me up a wall and made my migraine go from "almost" to "full".

I have a vagina, and yet I still feel like I need a translator when talking to women.
Fuck.

Paranoia--AND HOLY FUCK

121.2 lbs.

It's been a long time since I've lost weight this fast, and part of me is very grateful, but the rest of me feels like I'm dying.

I broke down crying multiple times in the past three hours.

Walking in to work I almost started bawling and barely stopped myself, then trying not to cry when my coworker was looking, then when I was alone in the office I finally broke down, curled up, and just sobbed.
And now I'm super pissed off. My make is like, $16 fucking dollars a tube, and I just cried it off. That's a damn waste of money.

My whole body aches. The doctor had said that with the way the infection was, I could be having a hard time absorbing nutrients and food. And I've been eating a lot. I mean...the past few days, I've evened out between 700-900. And yet today I woke up shaking, feeling like I was starving. Feeling like I haven't felt since I was on 500-600 a day for two to three weeks straight. And I wound up late for work because I stopped and got taco bell, and got something that was new, so that I wouldn't know the calories, because for everything else there, I have the calorie values memorized and can't eat it.

And then I waited until my coworker was gone, and sobbed while I ate, not sure if it was because I felt sick, or because I felt like a failure.

it's a quesadilla thing. I've eaten 1 1/2 slices out of 4, and now my antibiotics are making me feel too gross to eat, which i'm so fucking thankful for.

oddly, now that I'm not eating, I feel better.
I have food in my stomach, which i think helps, and I ate something tasty, and I'm sipping at a pepsi one (one calorie, and unlike diet, no aspartame, so I avoid migraines), and I partly feel too dead to cry now.

which also means i feel too dead to eat.

this is good in its own way.



I missed my follow up appointment earlier in the morning. I felt too dizzy to walk, much less drive.
I felt TOO SICK to go to the doctors.
But I packed my gym bag, and went to bed, so I could go to work and go for a run after.


Too sick to go visit a doctor to see if I'm getting better, but not too sick to keep up a public face and strive for weight loss.
How fucked up am I?

I made myself leave my gym bag at home when I was too dizzy to move properly before I left for work.
I only hope I'll feel well enough to go on saturday. I don't even need to be fully BETTER. Just well enough to exercise after work and not feel like I'm going to die in the process.
I could use the clarity of a good run right about now.




Also, this shit is making me paranoid.
I called my dad yesterday sobbing because i thought they were angry at me for no reason, and I was partly convinced everyone knew about my eating disorder, and that I was going to be forced into treatment somehow. I kept having this terrible memory of this psychiatrist I went to before I switched doctors a month or two ago, who started making me step backwards on a scale so I wouldn't be able to see my weight, because he had tracked down records that had information about my "unhealthy relationship with food" when I was like, 12. I didn't realize their clinic had merged with that old one and he'd have access to them so easily. And i had nightmares last night about my parents finding out, and it being just like when i was confronted with my drug addiction, only with so much more shame.



I think i hide it well. i dont think anyone suspects anything.
but im so convinced everyone is mad at me, or somehow knows, or even that people are talking about me or Im about to get fired at work.
apparently, this antibiotic is made of nausea, paranoia, uncontrollable crying, and general fail.




awesome.

[ADDED LATER]

DO NOT TAKE THIS FUCKING DRUG.

I just looked it up on askapatient, and HOLY SHIT. I'm not GETTING WORSE, It's the FUCKING MEDICINE.
I'm going back and throwing this in his god damned face. I'd rather have a fucking infection in my organs than wind up with failed kidneys and severe paranoia for the REST OF MY FUCKING LIFE.

New Low New Low happy dance!

121.6 lb's.

New low!

I think I almost fell off the scale this morning. Which would have been quite the feat. It's not high off the ground, even for me.
But yesterday, I had eaten a full loaf of bread. Not like, a real loaf you buy from the store, but my parents went to this Italian place, and they serve bread there, you know--those round loaf things that have servings for two or three people? And I ate all of it. Because I have NEEDED carbs. Normally when I have problems with dehydration, I crave salt, but salt has made me feel sick, and I've been needing bread.
I didn't eat much beyond that, but bread is always ridic. high in cals, and that had like...olive oil brushed on top. And oil scares the hell out of me. I was so depressed after having eaten that, on top of having to reschedule my stupid PT exam because I'm dumb and didn't study and am sick (But I love Fenie for letting me whine at her on messenger, and for making me feel better. She's my current hero! ♥ ). So yeah...I felt like such a damn pig, and expected to GAIN WEIGHT, but apparently my metabolism is all like "FULL SPEED AHEAD!" because of the overload of a workout last weekend, and the infection and stuff, or at least I assume that's it, and I am SO not complaining. I LIKE WHEN MY SCALE GOES DOWN YESSIREE I DO.

I have a follow up appointment tomorrow morning (Wednesday morning). I sort of wish it was with my old doctor, because the last time I saw her in March, I was like...179 lb's. And I'm 121.6 now, and I would love to walk in there, step on the scale, and ask what I always did, "What's my stats?"
Because I always had them tell me my blood pressure, heart rate, and weight.
I'm going to ask this doctor to do a full workup--meaning blood pressure, HR, weight, percent fat, and see if I can schedule a test to get HDL and LDL cholestrol, triglyceride levels, and blood sugar tested. I want to know where I stand right now, so I know what i have to focus on and change. The lower to triglyceride levels, the better chances of a well operating metabolism you have, or something.

And it would just be fun to do.

Hohum.

When I get down more, I'm going to go in to my old doctors for a check up. Just so they can have my updated weight on record there.
It will be AWESOME.



ALSO
Thank you to everyone for all your awesome and kind words on my last post. I know I'm not anywhere near perfect, but it made me very happy to have all the encouragement. I can't wait until I'm small, and you can see my hip bones and flat tummy and all that, and I can show all of you. I'm so ridiculously anxious to like...make everyone here proud, and show that I can do it. I have a lot of support. It's sort of ridic. I mean...when I see how many followers I have, I get all happy, and I never like to mention it, because it feels like I'd be bragging or something? And I'm sort of baffled as to why I have so many followers, and more than some of the people who I look up to on here as being like...superstars or something XD Or so much better than me. Most of you guys who I talk to, I feel that way about. But anyway.
I feel like I have all these people now who are rooting for me, and at first, I was doing this a lot for my own thing, but now I also feel like I have all of you guys that I'm doing it for, too. And that's more of a motivator than anything.

I want to get down to my goal, so I can prove it can be done, and be worthy of all the followers, and comments, and awesome words. Or at least deserve them or continue to deserve them. I won't let you all down!

Wee!
Okay, done now!
This post feels narcissistic and stuff.
But I'm tired, and my antibiotics are like, making me woozy. XD WOOT.

♥ STAY STRONG BABIES!

Before/After Pics Like Promised

Okay, so, top picture isn't me, but it's there because I don't want my ugly fat ass to be the one you guys see on your blog roll.
So, the first one is me, not even at my highest weight, back in like...2005? That's one that I saw, and was like, "Holy fuck, why didn't anyone tell me I was getting that fat?" That shirt, after I gained more weight, wouldn't even FIT over my stomach roll. Not it hangs down to my thighs.
The second is a more recent picture of me, still fat as fuck. I need to lose about 22 lbs, maybe 30 still? Notice, though, the angle of the jaw versus the first pic. I still have back rolls, but not nearly as much as when I did before. The sad part is, to be honest, looking at them, I can't even see much of a difference anymore. I'm still fat. I'm still morbidly obese, in my mind. I'm a fucking cow, and yeah. I'm just a cow in smaller clothing.























And now because I'm feeling courageous, these ones won't stay up long.

Here's part of my progress pics. The first is me at a morbid 197. The second is me at still a sickening 126 (about 4.4 lbs ago now). The shape is still gross as fuck. The only difference is that it's gotten a little smaller.
But yeah, the first pic was taken around March or April. When I get down to my goal weight, I'm going to take pictures in a similar pose and put them together. But yeah...right now, I still can't see much of a difference, which fucking sucks.

[These ones baaaahleted]

These pictures will only be up for like...24 hours or something. Especially the bottom ones of me in mah underooooos.

So...yeah,
like I said, still a HUGE amount of work to do, and a lot to lose, but i promised them to you guys, and you can sorta see, I'm really not that much of an inspiration yet, because I'm still really big and really gross, but I promise all of you that I will be, and I'll show you all, and make all of you super, super proud ♥

The Doctor called me -delicate-.

I wound up back in the ER.
Or it's something like an ER. It's an urgent care--so it's where you go when you can't wait for a doctor, and need immediate attention, but it's not yet life threatening.
I had come home from work, and suddenly realized that I was bleeding in the female area. So I went up to the urgent care, and as I was trying to check in, she asked my name, and I couldn't say it. And then I was waking up being held up by this 80 year old woman and with a whole waiting room just...staring at me.
That was embarassing.
They got me back pretty fast.

They did tests, and it turns out I have some weird infection on some of my organs that's gone from just bladder to kidneys and some other areas. It's pretty vicious, and it's literally developed in like, a day. The doctor told me,
"In women who are as petite and small as you are, things like this get out of hand pretty quick. Your insides are inflamed, meaning there's not enough blood to go to your head when you're standing up, and your blood count shows you're anemic. There's also signs of malnutrition and dehydration, which in a girl as skinny as you, can happen fairly rapidly. Your body probably hasn't been able to take in any nutrients. Girls your height and weight can be incredibly delicate."


I clung to that last word.




Delicate.



He told me to go and get food, and go home. He said, "this isn't something you want to play with. Your body is very fragile, especially when sick."


Fragile.

Delicate.
Small.
Petite.
Thin.




I had people holding my arm to walk me around. And even at the pharmacy, a guy came around to help me, and offered to escort me to my car. I was picking up antiobitics, and somehow, I felt delicate. I have an infection in my organs, and it's because I'm at a weight and height where my body is more fragile than bigger girls.




I have never had those words applied to me.
The last time a doctor ever commented about my weight, it was to say I was severely obese and "all my problems would be gone" if I "just lost some damn weight".
But they're not gone.
They're just pretty now.



My blood pressure is severely elevated, my heart rate is very low, I'm anemic, exhausted, malnourished, dehydrated, and I don't think I've ever felt this wonderful about myself in my life.





Good heavens, I really am sick. Both physically and mentally. But I think I'm going to go to bed smiling tonight.

I kicked my own ass at the gym.
But I finally made the scale move down.

122.6.

Woot.

Now my body feels like it's been beaten with a hockey stick in all my major muscle groups.
Oh well!
That pain? Is the pain of success.



(...and here I thought success was supposed to be sweet?)

I found pictures of me on my parents computer of how I used to look. I always tried to avoid letting people take full body shots of me. Obviously, I failed.
I never realized, when I was that fat, just how fat I was.

I wish someone would have said something to me as it was happening. I wish they would have stepped in when I was a child and said, "Woah there, blimpy. Let's get you on a treadmill!"
My dad tried, apparently, but my mother and shrink put a screeching halt to it. Said something about body image, and the judgment damaging my already shaky psyche.
I sort of want to hit them for that.
You know what damaged my "shaky psyche"? How about kidnapping me and leaving me with a child molestor.
Or letting me get so fat that I got teased in school?
Or letting me get to a weight where I hated my body every day I woke up, and had no idea how to properly exercise or what healthy eating habits were, and started vacillating between binging and starving?
Or how about actually taking me off the medication, which was known to cause suicidal behavior in young adults (I was ELEVEN, holy fuck) and putting me into physical activities and on a proper diet, which is proven more effective in clinical studies at relieving a majority of childhood depression?
And it would have also helped me make friends!
Or how about not having pulled me out of gymnastics, dance, karate, and softball when my parents got divorced because they were too fucking lazy to take my anymore?
Or, here's a thought--how about never having had us survive on fast food for years at a time, and actually having taught me healthy habits and coping mechanisms, rather than putting me with an art therapist who liked the idea of me being on Prozac, Xanax, Lithium, and Trazadome from the ages of 10 to 14.

And I wonder why, sometimes, I went to amphetamine abuse. Probably because I was such a fucking zoned out zombie for so much of my life, that I wanted to make up for all the years I missed.

Anyway. Sorry. Rant over.
I'll post up the pics, as well as the most recent body shots of me, later, when I'm able to pull them off my dad's comp. But...it's sort of horrifying. I have a shirt now that is super big, and reaches down to the middle of my thighs. I remember when I couldn't wear it because I was too fat, just this past February. In these pics, I was wearing that shirt, which means I wasn't even at my high weight, but I mean...holy fuck.
To think that I ever got fatter than that.
Good god.

Oh well.
I'll never be back there again.

Also, interesting article about Disney Princesses and thinness:
Located here.

It really does make you think.
Where did our obsession with thinness come from? Why were princesses so delicate and fragile to begin with?
Of course girls were obsessed with looks back then--look at the propganda of the days about how women should act. Look at the old 50's videos about how young girls should behave. And before that, before movies and reels and even silent films, women were using tape worms to make themselves thinner.
Think of the corsets, and how so many aimed to get the wasp waist.
And when Consumption (TB) was considered to be a beautiful disease, and many women dreamed of dying from it, because they wanted to look so delicate, if only for a little bit.

Makes you wonder.

Metabolic shock

I went to the gym, and was incredibly strict on what I did.
Only 25 minutes on the treadmill.
25 minutes on the treadclimber.
10 minutes on the stair climber.
And then a small amount of leg and calf exercises.
Then stretching.
And home.

I did my typical warm up of course of general core work outs (plank, leg extensions in plank pose, and drawing in the stomach to activate the supportive muscles of the spine and stuff--otherwise I get terrible backaches) but also had thrown in 20 push ups before my work out began to warm up my arms. I was very proud that I could go almost all the way down to the floor before coming back up.

I didn't lose anything from yesterday. In fact, I gained. 124. I didn't even eat a lot after I got home. I think maybe I had pushed so hard that my body went into a form of shock and just held on to everything. Plus, there's muscle gain, and complete water retention. But I'm sort of not doing the gym until the 15th, probably, because my exam is the 14th, and i have to pass that.

Which also means I might be quiet on here for a while.

My goal for this month is to get down, I'm hoping, to about 117.8 lb's. I mean, that's my high goal. My low goal (what I call my "realistic" goal) is to get down to about 120-121. I wouldn't like it, but whatever.
I just can't wait to be out of the 20's. It'll be so strange. Sometimes I can't believe I'm losing.

When I'm really tired and wake up, and worry about what my number will be on the scale, I keep finding myself thinking, instead of "Just please not 125" or something, I think, "Just please not 155...." or "I'll probably be back up to 175...."
And then I stop and blink, because just a few months ago, I was looking down at 152, and thinking, "If only those last two numbers were switched...." and now I freak out at the thought of getting back up to that low goal again.
I never thought I'd make it this far.

I think that's why I froze up at 134.
Why I just started eating and couldn't restrict.
I had never expected to get there. Never expected to be that low. I think I was suddenly afraid of the idea of reaching my goal. I don't know why, but it hit me that I might not know what to do if I did. That if you actually achieve something, or get really close, then it hurts so much more to fail. It was easier to give up than to never succeed, and that was hard to overcome. The fear of success is a real thing, because when you succeed, you gain something, and by gaining something, you naturally thereby have more to lose.

It was easier to always be a failure.
To always identify with one thing, rather than completely change my identity and my view of myself. Going from being, "An obese girl who can't lose weight" to "a skinny girl who met her goals".
Going from being a victim, to a leader. A success.

Isn't it strange how the human mind works?
Afraid of getting what you want.

Huh.

Anyway. I'm off for now to study.
Wish me luck, and I'll try to post a lot between now and my exam!

Coping Mechanisms? What's that?

So today, something happened that flipped me out. That something being my ex sending one of her lackeys to get a hold of me. Now, bare in mind, when I say "psycho", I don't mean it in the "Oh, she's a little emotionally disturbed" kind of way. I mean it in the, "She should really, really be in an asylum" sort of way. Like...she has these guys who are obsessed with her and she's married to one, convinced them all to sleep with each other, write in blood on the walls, and is convinced she's actually an alien, sort of way.
Like...in the, I'm afraid she's going to find this blog and I'm afraid to even TALK about her or say her name out loud because I have this feeling she'll KNOW and pop out of my god damn bowl of cheerios and kill me, sort of way.

So hearing from her boy toys is about as much fun as receiving a rectal exam from a first year med student with hands the size of Goliath's who mistakes the rubbing alcohol for the lubricant. In fact, I would rather submit myself to that large and incompetent oaf with hands of latex and ethanol than have to recall that she even EXISTS.
But no. No. They message me.
And I'm filled with the uncanny desire to gouge out my own eyes, and then dip my laptop in bleach to purify it of her fucking STANK.

Why can't they just leave me alone?

So I went to the gym.

And I did three miles on the treadclimber. And then I ran. Four miles. And then weights. And I realized, after hours of hardcore movement and after having done three miles of running, puked, and gotten back on to finish my last mile...that maybe, MAYBE, my response was borderline...I don't know....unhealthy?
I think it hit me about the time that I started to dry heave the second time, and collapsed to the floor after trying to stand up.

Running 4 miles at a steady pace of 5.8 mph, with only a pause to vomit, after a nice long treadclimber workout, followed by weights...tends to do that, I imagine.

I was so dizzy it was hard to drive home.

But
I lost two pounds.
121.8. Awesome.
Then I ate a piece of bread with peanutbutter, and a little bit of cake my dad shoved on me ("You look PALE," he says, "Is your blood sugar low?" Nope, my blood sugar is fine. If by fine, you mean completely crashing with having only eaten a hot pocket and a finger swipe of icing before pushing harder and farther than I EVER have during a workout, then yup, my blood sugar is PEACHES), and then I proceeded to get a terrible stomach ache.

And then I had to go buy girl products from the store in my pajamas. Because I was an idiot, and didn't wash my hands at the gym before going to the bathroom. And I'm standing there, looking at the different products, with a box of Monistat 1 in my hand, and this fucking GUY is looking at me, and he's some stupid little teenage high school punk butt stupid head, with this stupid snicker on his ugly face. And I have no idea what he wanted, but I was so GRUMPY MCFUCKFACE from the extreme workout, my ex, and then that satan cake, and having to come to the store in my pajamas to buy EMBARRASSING GIRL PRODUCTS that I was just...done? And I pointed the box at him and said, "I will fucking shank you in your trachea with a box of vag cream, you bitch!" HE STOPPED SNICKERING.

Oh, to traumatize the youth. But it's only fair that he realizes that all women have their sweet and lovey and perhaps matronly side, but it's balanced out with a midol filled, tampon, and icky-girl-part cream possessing rage monster that will light you on fire just because you're BREATHING wrong.

awoefijawoeifjawioefj



I think I need to a nap.
And maybe a shot of jagger or something.

Ugh, ♥
AT LEAST I DID NOT EAT RIGHT?

God I'm fiesty today XD

Though I got worried. At the gym, after working myself that hard, I didn't feel like I could stop.

I mean...I couldn't. I couldn't stop. I had to beg my friend to tell me to stop. To MAKE ME stop. Because I wasn't going to. And it hit me that while some people binge and purge...I think I just exercise. I think that's my thing. I do it when I eat until I'm ready to collapse, and I make myself sick constantly. I wore myself down to the point of emotional exhaustion, and came so close to begging one of my friends for help, because I didn't want to do this anymore. It's the first time I've felt like I needed help with this whole ED thing.
I guess it's the first time I've ever wanted to stop and couldn't. Usually, I'm grateful when I push. But today...I wanted to stop, and I couldn't make myself. It was like I was possessed. Like I couldn't control my body.

Weird that, isn't it?
I'm glad I didn't ask for help. I got over that feeling pretty damn quick. I think what freaked me out was after I had thrown up, I kept coughing and shit, and I couldn't breathe, and I only stopped running because my hands and feet were numb and I was close to passing out.
And then when I had finished weights, my lips were purplish blue.
And I think it scared me.
But...I'm better now.

I think.
Huh.
Just have to find a way to fix it, I guess.
I mean, sometimes, I want help. I want to ask for help. I want to cry on someone's shoulder and have them make me better.
But I dont' want to ever get better.
I want better control. I want to be able to not have the urge to purge, and to restrict and not hate myself for it, and to be able to stop working out when I want to. I don't want to be normal. I'm better than normal now.
I just want to better than I am.
I want to pluck out my imperfections.

I don't want to get better completely. I just want to get better at what I'm doing.
There's...a distinction, I guess.

Damn it, Janet, be a woman and fetch me my slippers!

I slept like
three hours.

I hate not sleeping. I get so hungry so easily when I don't sleep, as so evidenced by the fact that I've eaten like...oh, I don't know, at least 370 calories already? Before my day really even started?

I have to be up for another like...14 hours. This...is going to be hard.

The only thing that bugs me more than not sleeping enough, is not being able to eat on my normal schedule. Once at 10:30pm, once at 3:30am, snack at 5:30, and then small snacks between 7-10am, never exceeding 300 calories (I have about 800-900 a day right now, since I'm trying to control the binge urge, but I need to go lower than that. That's a disgusting amount still).

On a good note, yesterday was the gym. I weighed myself before I worked out, which I always do. It's at the end of my day, so it was AFTER eating and the like. And guess what? Even with my 3500 calorie day a few days ago?
124.3. I actually dragged the weight up to 127 at first expecting the worst, and felt giddy with every notch I had to tap it down. I did a 2.5 mile run, and then did the treadclimber for 40 minutes, and then some awesome arm/leg full body combo's with the weights, and a few general core exercises. When I weighed after, I was at 123.2.

This morning when I woke up?

123 lb's even.

Awesome.

I just hate that I didn't sleep. If I had slept, maybe I would have lost more (since I tend to weigh less when I've had 8 hours--you can burn upwards of 500 kcals in your sleep, you know), and I wouldn't be so fucking hungry.
I'm really afraid of gaining.
Like, deathly.
We all are though. It's why we do this. Or at least, why some of us do. It's a major trait worth noting in a vast majority?
I've lost my groove. Sleep deprivation kills my ability to make logical sentences or form coherent paragraphs.
AWESOME.

HEED MY INANE RABBLE!
FLARGHALARGHA *KEYBOARDSMASH*


Tomorrow is grocery shopping.
Hate grocery shopping when tired.
Everything looks delicious.
But I'm outta face cream, dog food, and body wash. So unless I want to fend off my starving dogs with the powerful funk of some righteous BO, shopping is a massive requirement. Damn, but I do despise responbility.

---

PS
KEMPER I FUCKING LOVE YOU.
I'm going to be look for a new blog layout. This one is so cyan. (or is that aqua? Blue green? How about kelp. Blue seaweed? OCEAN POT! er....right, that jump in logic was totally off the radar....this is what happens when I don't sleep) and yes. KEMPER IS AMAZING the end.

AND ALSO
I don't like to pimp.
But there's someone who comments a lot on me, and I've seen her comment on others, and she's just really sweet and has almost no followers and she's just starting out. So...
YellowBrick is the name she goes by, and she's been really helpful with a lot of the stuff she says, and super sweet, and it makes me sad whenever I go there and she's so wonderful, and yeah. Just doing this because I get such awesome support from everyone, including her, and she's sorta new on the blogger thing and I just want to make sure that she can get a lot of support, too!

THAT AND IT HELPS THAT she's amazing and you sorta wanna squish her head (in that good "OMFG CAN I HUG YOU NOW?!" sorta way) after talking to her and reading some of her stuff.

THE END!

I'm sorry.

Thank you all for so much support yesterday.
But I didn't do any of you proud.

It was probably the worst migraine I remember having in years. I was too shaky to walk right at work. I kept having to eat, thinking my blood sugar was crashing, and when I tried to lean over to grab something, I wound up on the floor because I felt like the world was moving. I got home and my depth perception went, my speech was slurred, and I remember at some point laying on the floor in the room because everywhere else hurt to be.

And I ate.

Fuck, I broke and I ate. And it didn't HELP. But I kept eating, because I felt like I needed something. Like my body was begging for something.

I stopped counting after 3000 calories, when I broke down sobbing.

The binge ended with plain white rice drenched in salt.
I should have known to go for that first.

My nephew eats it when he feels sick; my sister used to eat it when she would get menstrual migraines or hunger headaches (she was a junkie and had an eating disorder--she doesn't have custody of my nephew anymore--he doesn't even remember her, so when he started craving that without ever knowing his mom used to eat it or that I would eat it, it surprised all of us). It...made the pain so much less. That's what I was looking for. The salt, the carbs, the lack of flavor and just...the pure salt. I used the very thick kosher chunked kosher salt (it's hard for me to eat the regular anymore) and a little bit of sea salt.


I should have reached for it first. I should ahve just gone for it first. Salt always makes me feel better, but I kept thinking, "No, no, I need to cut back, because it makes me puffy."
You know what else makes you puffy?
EATING LIKE A FUCKING PORKER.

I woke up with still the remnants of the migraine, like I do after such bad headaches. My speech finally started working right after I got in to work again. And the shaking stopped.

I haven't eaten anything yet. And I feel like such a fraud. I came in, and my coworker told me, "...did you lose more weight?"
No, I lost the initial bloat from my period.
But I'm so afraid of the scale.


Today is the gym.
Today is back to restricting.
To denying food.
To trying to make myself proud again.

I ate more than 4 days worth of food in the space of three hours.

I have to just let it go. I have to just remember that this is my shame, and it's over now. I can't do it again.
The only thing to do now is to move on.
To work it off.
To start again.

I'm sorry, you guys. I'm sorry I fucked up so badly. My control has been so good lately. I thought I was doing good when I went home to eat instead of going through a fastfood place like I wanted, but I would have been better had I just gotten the fucking grease pit. The only comfort I have is in knowing that my binge was on almonds and soy beans and fiber cereal and healthy things, rather than fat soaked and saturated, artery clogging hand-fulls of preservative filled shit.

I'll do better.
I'll make you all proud again.

I promise.

I feel like that girl from Juno

I feel like that girl from Juno...the one who's in the science lab, and she's like, "I have a menstrual migraine, so, I can't look at any bright lights."

That's what I feel like right now.

Ugh.

I know if I slept, it'd go away. I'm at that stage. Where crashing out would make the pain stop. But I'm at work.
And I'm hungry.
But not hungry.
And I feel exhausted.
And sick.

I hate migraines. I hate periods. They always come with migraines.

I didn't weigh myself today. Not weighing myself until I can get back into the gym (either tomorrow or thursday...hate taking this long off....) and yeah.
Waaant to crrrrryyyyy.
Hate this so bad.

Migraines sabotage weight loss goals.
No joke.



The end.