People probably think I'm homeless. Sitting in a corner by a shopping center smoking a cigarette, and I have a zip up hoddie covering me like a blanket. I'm in dirty sweat pants and no make up on. I'm sick so I have bags under my eyes, chapped lips...
I guess I can always tell people I'm a hobo for Halloween.

I was too scared to weigh myself this morning. I guess bc I didn't feel good yesterday, I wanted comfort food. Pumpkin sweet potato pancakes, bacon, gravey, candy corn... Needless to say I feel disgusting.

I really hope this opportunity works out. I think my physical fatigue is what's causing me to get so sick. I forgot to punch out on Tuesday so my boss had to adjust my time. I was scheduled until 5, I stayed until 7, she adjusted it for 4, then again for 4:15...?
She apparently didn't ask anyone who was working with me that day and didn't ask me. I'm so irritated. I got another manager to fix it, it's just the point. Everyday it's something.

I need sleep. So much for doing anything for Halloween...

I miss u Addy

So I'm down to a 00R in express pants. I was wondering why I look like I have no ass in all of the ones I own. Got my interview outfit last night. Very cute...but professional.
112.2 this morning again, but I purged last night. I didn't even eat that much in retrospect.
Baked chicken breast, hashbrowns, banana moonpie.
I think for me it was knowing the whole time that my dad cooked it, so needless to say who knows how much extra shit got thrown in there. That man doesn't know the meaning of plain foods. He has to jazz up everything, add some flare.
Today will be the first day I'll attempt to go a day without my addy(aderal). Well I shouldn't say attempt, I ran out. I felt like such an addict yesterday. Aside from breaking down in a hissy tantrum, I freaked out. My source missed her appointment, so I went to dads. Moms has to take it for her MS, it completely drains her energy. My dad told me she only had 4 and she has to go through a lot to get a refill. I may as well just suck it up and pay the $300 to see my own phychiatrist. Hot damn that's a lot of money but I can't be that girl. I am not an addict...they say admitting you have a problem is the first step. Ha! I will not!
Honestly my reasoning is I need it for energy. 11 hour days would make anyone need something. I figure it's better than turning to coke. (Oh trust me it's crossed my mind.)
losing weight is just an added bonus.
At work the other day two girls mentioned that I was looking skeletal. I freaked out and got extremely defensive. "Well you'd lose weight too if you worked like I do! I don't have time to eat!" Great Mandy that doesn't scream, "Look at me! I've got a problem!"
*sigh*
so anywho excited about the number, losing my ass and boobs isn't all that great. I didn't think my boobs could get any smaller. Though Express 32A bras I almost come out of. Why is it bras fit perfectly the first couple times, then it's like they stretch out, and you're having to adjust the ladies every ten minutes?
Off to work...wish me Luck.

Optimism mixed with anxiety

Life seems better today. In the midst of it all I have to find something positive to focus my energy on. I find it really easy with recent fatigue to let things eat at me. Tear me down. Ruin me. "I hate my life!" really means I hate work, bc work is my life.
I use to have bigger dreams. I use to want so much. I talked to my friend last night about how my dreams have changed. I think that's a lot of wear my unhappiness is stemming from. I took this job bc I wanted to work at a place I enjoyed. I'm glad I did i've grown up bc of this position. I use to be niece and immature. I want to love it but I can't help but remember how I use to feel. I felt alive like I was making a stamp on my soul. Writing, music, spirituality THAT was me. It seems I woke up one day with bills, married, responsibilty and with those wonderful things I forgot what makes Mandy happy. What can Mandy do to make Mandy happy?
Smoking cigarettes, taking aderals and starvation was never in the picture.
Wants, dreams, needs change with age. I get that. Is it wrong to want that back? To take a step back and reevaluate myself? It is when you're up to your neck in bills. Writing won't pay the bills, and I certainly don't have the time to write my book.
God does amazing things for everyone on a daily basis. I have to remind myself that He will do wonderul things for me too. I just have to pray.
My stubborn mouth just won't move.

Several steps back

I've purged the past two days. My mom asked me yesterday if I had done it, and I truthfully said, "No, I sure haven't!" Then I started thinking, why not? Last night my buddy and me chowed down on pizza and chocolate cake. Later him and Travis went outside and I took advantage of this. Today same deal. Left over pizza and chocolate cake. House all to myself, why not?
I'll tell you why not! Maybe this is party of the whole distorted self image thing that goes with this "ed". After I purged I went to weigh myself, and I sucessfully managed to get of all of it. Staying strong at 112.2 I'm excited about the number. What I'm not excited about is a flushed face. Bags under my eyes. Cheeks puffy, and my stomach is pooches out. What causes this with purging? I like the way my body looks with just not eating at all. THAT is why I stopped purging. I wasn't losing as much as I wanted to with just skipping meals all together. I like that I can tell my breasts are smaller, my stomach sunken in, defining the outline of my muscles and bones. Purging keeps the number, but not the tone look. Maybe it's just me.
I notice I only WANT to eat after a long early start to the day at work. Example, yesterday 7a-6p. Today, 4a-3p... I'm exhausted but also running low on the good ol' Mr. Aderal! I've had to up my dosage with this schedule of mine.
So far I've lost 14 pounds since June! Technically at an unhealthy BMI but what's .4 measley points. I won't consider myself "unhealthy" until I'm at a BMI of say 16ish.
So needless to say I need some soul searching material again. I have a pretty stone cold hand gripping me keeping me from going up. (Up in pounds that is)

Teetering from 112-113.
I got sick yesterday. I was enjoying my coffee drink on my break yesterday. All of a sudden I felt incredibly weak, nauseated. My hands got clamy and I thought that at any second I was going to barf. I forced down a granola bar and felt better. Usually I can go the whole day without feeling any side effects. Lately NOT eating kills me. Weird...
I'm so tired of these long days, a part of me wishes this other job will come back and offer me a crazy awesome position. One I can't turn down. We will just have to wait and see. Maybe Lady Luck will be on my side for once. Maybe God will answer my prayers. I'm tired of these hours. Mentally no, physically my body is shutting down. I physically can't work. I imagined getting hurt at work just so I can go on workers comp. Doesn't matter how, chop a finger off. Fall off another 10 foot latter. Slip and crack my skull open. *laughs* God help me...
I need this coffee and aderal to kick in already.

I like the feel of the heat on my jeans. I'm sitting here at starbucks enjoying my grande 2 pump skim pumpkin spice latte. Loving this weather. 70 is cold to people here in north Carolina, piedmont region. It's funny to me. Wearing my dark grey skinny jeans, a bcbg long sleeved white shirt and my grey Michael khors knee high slouch boots. Rocking my Armani shades. People look at me and probably think I'm some snotty rich bitch. If they only knew I paid for my drink in pennies and dimes I found stuffed away in my center console.
Impressions. Mine are either great first impression or long lasting. I'd like to think that atleast.
Currently I'm working on my networking. I've been offered an interview to a position I'm not interested in, but that's okay. I thought about it and I'm going to talk to this lady and be honest. That I appreciate the opportunity but my passion lies in management. Working with a team to gain desired results. I've worked too damn hard to take a step back in my career. Maybe if I'm lucky, if this the "sign" I've been waiting on it'll work out. She could come back and say that they'll make a position for me! Lol with smaller businesses you never know. Staying positive and true to myself won't hurt anything. If anything shell apprciate my honesty and respect my professionalism.
Work is hard. No matter where you go. I'm a promotion whore and I just can't see myself settling. Taking steps back career wise. M-f 9-5 sounds amazing, but not having the title of "manager" would hurt my career. I've become somewhat of a work-a-holic. Taking control of something.
I've talked a lot about this control issue. This is just an example of how deep it really goes.
I love people watching. My favorite past time.
I ate like shit last night. Travis brought home a spicy chicken sandwich and fries from burger king along with a pumpkin spice milk shake from Jack in the box. Oh god! My stomach was hurting before I even got a quarter through. I ate it though. First actual food FOOD to touch my lips in 4 days. What's funny was that I didn't have that bulemic voice chirp in like usual. I felt sick, like any normal person with acid reflux would feel after scarfing down that ass. Any normal person in general would feel disgusting, but I didn't feel the need to evacuate all morsels of food in my stomach. Hooray! On the flip side Miss Ana the next morning(today) was waiting peering at the scale. I had gained .6 pounds. Obviously now that'd be lower now that I've gone to the bathroom like 3 times already today! Lol so it's okay! ...sorta
Mom asked how things were going after all my revelations. I wish I could say I'm 100% cured. It's a work in progress definitely. I do feel better. Improved. More positive. The disease is a disease, and not something you can just snap off. I still weigh myself every chance I get. I'm so close to my first goal weight! I can peatically see 110 just around the corner! Ugh! This obsession is just that. I'm obssessed with the number!
I noticed today when getting ready that my cheeks are beginning to look sunken in. I have a defined cheek bone! And not using bronzer to fake it!

Continuing through a war of good and...Ana

I listen to the words of gospel. Listen to the harmony that surpasses my soul. I respond numbly in the mind, longing in the heart. Like hearing opera for the first time, my eyes swell with passion. My mind tells me, "No!" My stomach is concaved. People are starting to notice. When once that's what I wanted, now I feel the need to hide. Embarassed. Ashamed. "There's no turning back now. You've come this far." Sometimes you have to take steps back to see the steps forward. I feel that's where I am now. Looking desperately ahead. Agonizingly seeking my path to be lit clearly for me to follow. It's foggy and damp. The cold air around me makes me friction my hands together. "Sleep." A voice chilled whispers. "You'll wake up and feel better." So I go yet another day without eating. My ridiculous rationalizing tells me fasting is what buddist do to gain enlightment. Nirvana. My heart is telling me this is bull shit. So the battle continues, and I'm in a losing streak.

ED's are an addiction

This is a disease. An addiction. I'm finally realizing that I have no control.
Yesterday I worked 15 hours straight with only a 20 minute coffee/smoke break.
I came home and Travis wanted to figure out what to eat. Maybe it was to fatigue, but nothing sounded good. I knew I needed to eat, and usually a shift like that I'd be ready to binge until I couldn't move. I truly just wasn't hungry. I ate anyway, but a small serving. I tried to go back for seconds. Even filled up my bowel to the brim. I couldn't eat it.
Purging just couldn't be an option I suppose. So I just didn't eat as much as I needed to unconsciously for this reason.
Travis and I had a long talk yesterday. He admitted his distance on this "topic" was because when he doesn't understand something he ignores it. He actually told me that in his mind he thought if he didn't acknowledge it, it would go away on it's own.
It hit me. Travis didn't understand the severity. The fact that an eating disorder is an addiction. A disease! An illness. So I broke it down for him. Not being condescending but I asked him, "Honey, why do you think Phillip became addicted to crack?" He responded, "He felt that he needed to alter his reality." "But why? Why did he feel the need to alter his reality?" I asked. "There was something he just couldn't deal with, and drugs helped him not have to live in the reality." He said. "There ya go!!"
Phillip is definitely a worse case scenario, he's been through a HELL of a lot worse than me. Than anyone I've ever met. Let me ask you, why does someone who for instance was raped eventually turn to drugs? Again worse case scenario? Because that person had lost control over something, they couldn't understand, and living in a reality, with something you truly have no control over is too much to bare.
Control.
Some people are content with things they can't control. My husband for example just sort of goes numb, and has a roll with the punches mentality. My husband also explodes over things like there's finger prints on this windsheild, or ashes on this porch because of this. He CAN control THAT, he can't control that his wife has an ED.
Me on the other hand, has lived an entire life trying to control everyone around me. Not by being controlling, but making it my life's mission to make them happy. To do that meant I had to understand them. I'd lie in bed sobbing when I was a young girl because I just couldn't understand why my parents wouldn't stop fighting, why dad was a pot head, my brother a drug addict. So instead I became "cheer-leader Mandy" of the house. Always the happy one to try and make others happy. It would kill me after years of doing so, things just didn't seem to get better for these people. Dad tried to commit suicide. My brother almost died due to his addictions too many times to count. My eldest brother, also an addict with crack, died. Now THAT is by far the WORSE thing that can happen to a person like me. You can't control something or someone that's dead. That killed me inside. It was then I believe I turned to control myself. Well I can't control this and that, but I can control this razor to my skin(this was a long time ago, but the beginning of my ED). Now nothing has changed, but the "substance" if you will has changed. I still have major control issues. Instead of living with the reality that, okay Mandy you can't control if you brother stays clean. Or your parents stay out of debt, work, your husband, your friends...what have you. I have altered my reality to believe that if I can just control "THIS" then I'll be okay. Somehow everything else won't matter, or will make sense, because if nothing else, YOU have CONTROL over something. Just as crack has been my brother's substance of choice for him to control or have to deal with his own realities, anorexia has become mine. Numbers, weight, calories, bmi's, body fat, bones, overall body image is my scapegoat.
Travis and I talked all about this last night. His answer was for me was to pick something else to control. Something important. So his answer was for me to be in control of our finances. We'll have to get a computer. The reason he does our finances is because he sits in front of a computer all day. Maybe that WILL help I don't know. It's worth a try. It's going to be awhile before we can afford a computer and Internet.
It was nice to help him understand. What was scarey was the realization that if HE doesn't understand and he's living with someone with ED. How many other people think if they just ignore it it'll go away? So I've now made it a new life's mission to help people understand. The same way people who are alcoholics or crack heads, whatever their substance is, need support. So do we. We need help. I need help.

The battle

These early mornings give me too much time to think. I can't shake these thoughts, even while bombarded with things at work. I need some answers. I must not be praying hard enough. Coffee, aderals, 113 this AM. These things are what makes me happy. Trying to find a healthy way to find happiness is challenging. I think I need sleep...
I toss and turn. My nights are so restless. My days seem to be passing me in a haze. I don't want to eat. I just want to sleep. Sleep for hours. I have no motivation today. Nine to work, but I'll do that anyway. None to pray, I need that the most. This hand that holds mine, even though I know it's a Boney one. One that's been eaten away by callouses and dehydration. It's one that i've found soliitude in. It was the only thing that kept me going when taking my life seemed all so...easy. It's my security blanket. My whispering lies, that I loved to believe. That somewhere inside of me I still do. It's so hard to change. Even when you know that not changing will destroy you.
I just don't want to give this up.

Breaking while walking

I'm breaking while I'm walking.
Through blurry vision, I listen and wait for a spiritual guide.
My legs are sore and everything is telling to rest.
Resting will be my grave.
That darkness that loneliness scares me now.
It's now more than ever that I need a voice.
A voice that will scream to keep pressing on.

My mother told me this would happen. There's a negativity that's craving to keep me in this Pitt. David went through this on psalm. God grounded his feet on a rock. God I need the same security you gave him. I need your light.

Last night was a true test. A test I failed. Not in my ED. In my marriage. Travis and I got in a fight. The negativity seeped into me and controlled my tongue. I did slightly mean the words I said. He does need to be more attentive. He does need to spend more time truly to KNOW me. I didn't mean what I was thinking. To leave him. The thoughts were just too powerful, and I sobbed. I told him I was trying not to let this thought bring me to purge. He goes, "Why do you need to throw up it doesn't do anything!" I cried and said, "That just proves what I've been trying to tell you. Travis since I told you about this problem, have you even done any research. You're so quick to research your next car, or trip. But you have no desire to understand me. If you truly lved me you would want to understand what I'm going through!"
of coarse we had people over and I was trying to go to sleep. We always have people over these days. Were never Alone anymore.

A new found Glory

Pleasure in losing? (part 2)

today I woke up in a complete depression. Travis and phillip has gone to do sone work, and I was alone. My anxiety kicked in about everything. Stresses at work, eating, everything! I decided I need to get out of the house. I went to starbucks. I don't usually go to starbucks on my days off. This is a treat I give myself on work days. I got my coffee and that's when I wrote "Pleasure in losing?"
There were 3 beautiful girls sitting at the table outside behind me. I couldn't stop glancing over them. Listening to their conversations. Listening to them greet every person that walked by. They intrigued me. One of the girls was talking about a tanning salon near by she wanted to go to near by. I told myself I couldn't allow this girl to go to this particular tanning salon. They're extremely over priced and rude. So I chimed in that I thought they should go to another one. I gave them directions and they thanked me. They asked if I was a musician or and artist. I smiled and said no that I was just a writer. They asked what I wrote. I told them everything. From music, poems, stories. They asked me my name. Then one of the girls asked if I needed someone to pray for me. I laughed and sarcastically responded, "Sure, actually...yeah. Doesn't everyone?" she asked if it was okay to sit next to me, and put her hand on my arm. The other girls followed and we all sat around the table. She began to pray for me.
The entire side of my body where she was touching me began to tingle. All the hairs on my arm, that side of my head, my legs stood up.
She prayed that God give me the knowledge to see how beautiful I was. That He created me like a diamond, without flaws. That I was perfect in His eyes. That no matter what I've done that He would always love me. The all began to pray. One by one. Each touching on a very sore wound that has yet to be mended to with a healing touch. They spoke about things there was no possible way they would have known. They spoke of my gifts. My got given talents that were unique that I have forgotten. That I have pushed aside, because of critisism in my past. They prayed about how God wanted me to talk to Him first if I had a problem. That my relationships were being effected all around me because of this. There was too much said to write it all down. Things so personal, and held so much personal meaning for me to ever write all down.
I cried. Even with people all around. I didn't care. I felt like I was being washed clean. Wiped gently of all my lies, my stress, my secrets.
At that moment I truly handed my life into God's hands.
Even after they were done praying we all sat there and talked. I reaffirmed everything they had said with stories about my life. I became an open book. I told them everything. EVERYTHING.
....
And I felt for the first time in years that I was free. These burdens, obligations, anxieties, were given to God.
Everything they said made since, like God was speaking through them to me. They would look at me as if listening to something inside me and would say, "...and God wants you to know that when you have a bad day, He wants you to talk to Him first. Not your husband, or so and so at work. Because they can be a good support for you, but they can't fix it. Only He can, He's going to be able to give you the answers." And I would go, "Oh my God... I was just writing about how I had ruined all my relationships (1.partly bc of my ED. 2.) I've lost trust in people by being such a gossiper. I'd vent to this person about that person. Then turn right around and vent to that person about this person. Eventually you lose trust that way.
We talked about my relationship with travis. Then they stopped and one of them said, "Im getting the feeling that the reason you're marriage isn't going the way you want it is because of a burden you're carrying that you think he should fix. God wants you to know that only He can fix you." My jaw dropped and I said, "Okay, well..I'm just going to say it...i've been suffering from an eating disorder. " I had a revalation that this whole time I've expected Travis to FIX it. I became angry and distant with him because he wasn't. I resented him for it, and it was ruining our marriage.
We talked about my brother...
There's too muchbwrite. I've spent all day off and on trying to post.
And now I'm ready to move on. Forward. Towards a new path. This one's dark, damp and lonely.

Pleasure in losing?

I sit in solitude wrapped up in layers. Shivering against a cold i've chilled myself. The pill is lodged in my throat still, and I await patiently for it's endorphine release. I ponder people, and question prayer. Shaking clinched palms begging to find salvation. My throat constricts at the need to speak aloud. To talk to Him. My shame keeps my lips pressed. I don't deserve to be saved. I've built one hell of a life. One others should think I'd be proud of. My inner demons and conflictions sway my reason to think so. I've lost. A pleasure in losing? Oh! the irony. For every friend(foe)lost, another pound shed. A weight a no longer need to carry. Gravitational pull; though, what I need the most. I use my mouth to shut people out. Burning them with the realization, that I am not what they thought. I crave the need to tell them. Why I'm really hurting. Professional relationships though are not friends (So I've learned). So instead I bury them, deep along side of me. So we can swallow dirt together. I do unconsciously. You are a product of your environment, and mine has taught me to keep your "friends" close and your enemies closer. Where I go from 6 feet to a deeper level of descend, is when they gain this knowledge. Where their trust in me is broken, and I'm finally free. They claw triumphantly out of the earth, and leave me screaming silently to myself, smiling and alone. What bewilders me is my own bewilderment of this outcome. I question, why?! I question THEIR true intentions! I'M the victim! They're out to burn ME! I've created my own voids in relationships, but find all the fault to be theirs. This is where I panic. This is where the anxiety kicks in. Where insomnia starts. Where eating stops. I'm Alone. Where my disorder wants me to be, but what my soul craves passionately to have. I have no friends. I have no one to confide in. No one to tell of my secret. "Ana" is proud. "I" am miserable.
This is where I plead desperately to God. To save me. To help me keep my relationships. To help me to keep my feet grounded. Not to distance myself. I'm sorry to those I've Truly unintentionally hurt. I realize now that my "problem" is officially out of my control. I am now taking accountability, and admitting that I have lost ALL control over this. Forget the long term health negatives to this, I'm losing everything for this. Everything. I need help. Please God help me.
Last night was scarey. I was at my parent's house, and my dad called me into the kitchen. "Here baby, try this!" he was trying to hand me feed me some dessert he made. I panicked and threw a tantrum. "No dad! Please NO! I don't want it! Please!! Mom! Please tell dad to stop! I don't want any!!" I ran into the living room and dad brought my mom a plate. It was line she was taunting me. Eating slowly in front of me. Offering me bites. Making them smaller and smaller. "How about this much, will you just take a small bite?" I sat there trying to look at it. Panicking though at my "scene." Theyre going to know I'm getting worse. They're going to know I've lost control! That when once I could just take a bite. I ran desperately into the kitchen to find something to save face. I grabbed a carton of icecream and a spoon. I sat down in front of them and began to take little bites. Talking non stop about what I was eating. "This is so good! I'm trying to find the cookie pieces in this thing." after a few bites mom says, "Geeez, Mandy don't eat it ALL!" I stopped eating. This kind of confusing dialouge keeps me in an absolutely crazed state of mind.
I weighed myself this morning, and should of smiled at the solid 114 staring back at me. Especially since I'm menstruating. My mind is numb. I don't see this as a success. "113 would of been something to celebrate...you shouldn't of are that icecream." My brother on the way home tried to comfort me, "Mandy you really didn't eat that much. It was just a few bites." I drove in silence.
One night last week I binged at my brother's house. I ate mini cinnamon rolls, a pumpkin muffin, wendy's...on the late night drive home panic set in. "You can not keep this in!" I grabbed a bag that was in my side pocket in my car, and viciously made myself vomit while driving. Somehow I found humor in this. Like, "Oh Mandy, you've hit an all time low! This is a great idea! No more sneaking into comvienant stores. Avoiding eye contact with the clerk. Hoping they think I'm snorting coke rather than puking.*laughs*" Its sad when you actually want people to think you're on drugs rather than you have an eating disorder. Then I noticed my hand feeling warm. The bag was too thin to hold the contents. I flipped on my overhead light and looked down. Vomit covered my jeans. I disgusting rolled down my window and threw it out onto the street. The next day Travis saw the vomit and asked what happened, and I lied. I told him I had drank and got sick. I would rather have travis believe I was drunk then purging...

Wednesday night

One of the bloggers I was devoted to wrote her last entry. Daisy is disappearing. She writes so beautifully. I recommend finding her blog, and quickly reading all of it, before it's permanently deleted. :( I don't know why this makes me so sad.

I guess I'm always looking for understanding. I crave knowledge. I'm obsessed with how the human brain works. Why is So-and-So addicted to drugs? How does person A. have the skills and will to overcome them, but person B. doesn't? Why does This person struggle to keep food down, where That person it is all they can do to eat at all?
What happened? Troubled childhood? Genetic? Everyone is different, and for me, reading other people's stories make me feel closer to understanding the subcontext clues to mine.

My brother and I talk a lot about Binge disorders. He's the only one who truly knows where I'm coming from, because he suffers with a different substance. Mine being food/weight, his being drugs. I can call him crying about how guilty I feel about eating, and he relates, he talks to be like an AA buddy or something.
I guess that's what I've been searching for on this damn thing. Someone to understand. Someone to simply say, you're not crazy, I get it. I have no girl friends I can talk to about it. My husband's rose colored glasses won't let him believe I have an actual problem. He seems to think I'm just "insecure." If you met me you'd believe I was the most confident person you've ever met. I play my role well. The happy, perky, "alway's happy" Mandy that everyone hares to love. Inside. I'm bitter. Inside I'm cold. Inside I'm crude. Demented. Fucked up. Maybe subconsciously I just decided to wear it. Maybe I am smiling, but maybe if people see me phsically wasting away, they might stop and re-think some things. Take back their conception of me. Respect me.
You can't expect things from others though you can't learn to do for yourself.
There's a lot I'm not proud of. Nothing compared to other people's woes. I find myself submerging in theirs. To decend my own deeper into my heart, my soul. I think years of doing that is coming back to haunt me. Starting to take it's tole.
114 this evening.

Wednesday morning

I'm so exhausted. Work has been absolutely physically demanding along with emotional. I wish I had the courage to just find another job, but my conscious and my pride keeps me there. I'm constantly trying to prove myself. Prove that I can do this. I have serious control issues. Control over my emotions. Emotions to quit. I challenge myself to keep going. Keep working. Keep losing weight. I've turned my life into one huge game of Risk. Except the risks I make I've convinced myself... Is all WORTH it in the end. If I can just get promoted. If I can just lose 5-10 more pounds, maybe just maybe I'll feel like a void has been filled.
Being a Gemini makes me never satisfied.
I talked to my husband's aunt yesterday about this Feeling. She told me i'll grow out of it. That with time, I'll learn to be content.
I can't imagine my life being content. I can't imagine a life where I don't strive, obsess rather, on accomplishing something.
I listen to my uncle talk about my aunt and how she's list all this weight. How did she do it, I asked. "She just doesn't eat..." I have created a monster. In June when I saw her last she asked me how I have lost so much weight. I saarcastically responded chipperly mind you, "Well, I don't eat Aunt Rita! *laughs maniacally*" I'm not saying I encouraged, or was even the reason she has started a "diet" of her own. It hurts me to think that there are others who suffer with these thoughts. This lack of content, with living in their own skin. It also makes me think, my God she's almost 55. At 55, I don't want to be this way. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I want to accept myself, and some days I do. Some days I can eat normally and laugh. Truly laugh. Truly smile while stuffing my face with filth. Then the dawn cones. The scale screams. Or was that me?

My brother's court went well. They dropped all charges, but he's still on probation for the next 15 months. Husband and I have talked about him moving in. We could use the extra money. Plus I spend all my time with him anyway, so it won't be much of a culture shock.
Got a refill on my aderals.
Weight isn't where I want it. What can I do? Except try harder...
115 this AM.

I am an extremely impatient person. I hate waiting. If I have in my mind I'm supposed to do something, I better do it, and no one shall stand in my way. Anyone who does will be morbidly shot down and speared.

Last night I went the whole day with not a morsel of food to my lips. I had 2 altoids, like 7 cals. Then at 11pm I opened the fridge. *sigh* I grabbed a left over salad and scarfed it down like my life depended on it. I laid in bed tormenting myself for an hour. Lucky for me I did weigh .6 less this AM than yesterday. My mind always screams at me, "It wouldve been less if you hadn't..."
Nights are always the hardest for me. Any advice how not to binge at night?
I'm running out of my aderal which keeps my hunger at bay, but I can't take it at night or I'll be up all night. Help...
My brother is going to court tomorrow for his sentencing. He broke his parole, so they're trying him from everything he's done since 2007. I'm worried for him, he could go to prison for 18 months. He's been doing so well, and I don't want this to break him.
My dad is suicidle and my mom may have cancer. This has just been a fabulous week for me and it's only Wednesday...

So some wise crack told me the best thing you can drink after a work out is chocolate milk. What I don't think he meant was a toffee mocha from starbucks. The girl had to repeat my drink order like 3x, "So, you want 1/2 a pump of toffee nut, and 1 pump mocha?" Yes damn it! It's unbelievable how many pumps they put in those drinks! I worked there back in my youth for 6 months, I know how it works. It's amazing what an obssesive brain can retain. Ha!
So anywho, today was actually my 1st day back at the gym. Work has been running me absolutely ragged. I've been so tired after work recently, all I want to do is lay on the couch and watch my Married with children seasons.
That's all going to change! I'm starting my liquid diet again today. I count baby food as a liquid. Sweet potato is my fav!
Things between the husband and I are getting better. We were going through a rather rough patch. With my emotional break downs becoming a nightly ordeal. Husband has decided to make some changes within himself to hopefully make me happier. If he only knew that unfortunately no matter what he does, happiness for me, is always temporary. That is until I step on the scale in the morning, after work, before bed, and break down. He's threatened to throw the scale away. I lashed out verbally and tore him a new one, imature-like stomping my feet yelling, "I'll just buy a new one! Or drive to your dad's house and use his!" BUT I don't have a problem, NO. He's so oblivious...
He's broken his bowel, and threw away his "supplies" saying its his fault I'm so insecure, smoking weed makes him useless in the bedroom. Though this is partly true, I've had this problem LONG before he even entered my life.
The changes That need to be made are by me and ne Alone.

Starting over

Alright enough funny business!
I've been doing some major slacking. Totally binges last night on some pizza hut! Sometimes I hate having people over, obligations to stuff my face is not fun.
I think I finally feel well enough to start the gym up again. I had the flu that's kicked my butt from here to Egypt. So today no husband, no brother, house ALL to myself. I'm thinking after work I head to the gym, then maybe to the mall to buy some new work pants.
Weighing in this morning at an embarrassing high 117...thank u refusal to purge. Knew I shouldve but got to paranoid. Hopefully that shit will fall off in the next couple of days.
So sadly my goal of 110 is further than ever it seems.
I'll get there, not going to let it get me down. I'm actually in a surprisingly great mood. Coffee influenced? Yes, but who the fuck cares.