It happened.
After the last post, that now seems such a prediction, S left me.
HE left ME. which in itself is a plain nonsense.
So, he came back from miami yesterday, we met quickly for a coffee after he landed and at dinner I went eating at his place (with his mom).
I have to explain a few things now. As I mentioned in the previous post, I moved 7 months ago to his hometown, causing me to have to pay for the rent and looking for a job that could allow me to survive.
Around one year and a half ago he decided to start designing bags: he saw one that had a particular style to it, and decided to copy it and improve it. So, with the help of his friend that is into the fashion business, he started designing bags. Actually it was mainly the friend that managed the whole thing, so when this guy moved to Brazil I started helping him.
I was making phone calls, sending emails (not a full time thing, every now and then). And, when I moved here he told me I could be a sales rep (basically going from one city to another trying to find stores that would purchase the bags) and that he would pay me. I said yes.
Basically he never paid me.
Partially because I went to only a couple of places and partially because he never bothered to realize that a big part of the job was not going around like a jerk, but working from the computer and the phone and doing other stuff. So I did these things and he never realized that I was actually working.
The biggest deal though, was that he couldn't give a shit about the whole project.
It was a past time that soon annoyed him since it required too much effort and time. So he never did anything, not even a phone call. It was all up to me, and when I needed him he wouldn't mind about it or try to postpone the problem.
It now happens that I really have to start earning some cash, since my parents are cutting me off.
The other day I got an offer for this receptionist job (for a firm, not a hotel) quite well paid. I went to the interview and they loved me. They offered the job as they told me yesterday.
So, after dinner I told him. That I was thinking about taking it cos I am having money issues and that I could still help doing the job with the motherf*cking bags.
He went crazy. How dare I? I had taken a commitment with him! I promised to do a job for him but never did anything! I fooled him! I am a bitch that tried to screw him over! I am not to be trusted! I am a whore!
I tried explaining him that I NEED TO PAY THE FUCKING RENT AND THE FEW THINGS THAT I EAT but he wasn't even listening.
He then told me to leave and that didn't want to see me again.
He ironically wished me good luck. Told me that i should never call him again and that I am a fake bitch.
I went home bawling.
Tried to sleep while he sent me a last text telling me how big a delusion I was.
And after today, I feel in such a weird place.
Between a binge and the will to starve to death.
I am anesthetized. Numb. I wanna cut so badly. But I know that when I will go back home I will be watched upon.
He even called me today to ask me if I had registered him to a bike race. I had forgotten, cos I have a lot of things to do.
He found nice telling me once more that I am not reliable.
I don't know what to do. Everyone tells me that I am lucky he left me cos he is toxic. I know. I hate him.
But right now all I would like to do is sleep and not dream and to cut out the tattoo that spells his name on my arm.
Hugs girls,
Thanx for the comments on the last post. Apparently you were right.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Alpha Dog
So, one week later.
Again, I suck at posting frequently. Actually it has been a hectic week. You see, living alone is a blessing and a pain in the ass. I literally have no time to do anything that is not essential: I wake up, clean dog's poop/pee, feed him, go out, drive to work, work, come back somewhere around 4 PM, take the dog out for an hour or so, buy something, clean some more, if it's a gym day I go to the gym, eat and finally sleep.
And of course, since I live away form my family I have no one to ask to do these things for me. There's no one that can take care of the dog, no one that can help me clean and I certainly do not have the money (at least right now) to pay someone to do it. Sure I have an unemployed boyfriend that COULD do it, or at least help me once in awhile, but he's way too spoiled and narcissistic to care about someone that isn't himself, so it's like I'm here alone.
I said someday I would be talking about this boyfriend (ok, I'll call him S) and I think I want to do it now.
It's been three years since we started going out. When I met him (totally random thing, like in a movie-a really cheesy one) I thought I couldn't be so lucky. Me!
He is handsome [he looks like Emile Hirsch, taller with a hotter body], rich, funny, smart and a great f...lover. So I couldn't believe that he was actually interested in me, poor little me. Me with my average everything, except my low self esteem.
So, we began dating and I fell madly in love with him.
Turns out he's a cheater, a keen cheater. Turns out he's a sadist, a subtle sadist. Turns out he has a problem with rage, nothing dangerous, but he gets mad like that. Turns out in life he just wants to have fun. Turns out he constantly reminds me of how fat I am, of how I should lose 20 pounds to be acceptable.
Turns out he tells me he loves me and that he wants to marry me someday. Turns out he's hurt and incredibly sweet and needy. Turns out with him I discovered I actually wanted children, a family and everything else. Turns out I would do anything to please him and to keep him with me.
He has caused me to spiral back into old ways and new fashions to hurt myself. And I moved from my hometown to be closer to him. I now live alone, he never asked me to move in.
Writing this down is really heavy. It lets me see what kind of a relationship I'm in. Everyone told me I should just fuck the bastard off and go on with my life, but I can't. Not right now.
He's crawled under my skin and into my mind so deep I don't know if I want him out, even if he hurts me.
Of course, not everything and every day with him is awful. We have great moments and we get along like no one I've ever seen. The ups match the downs in magnitude, but not in frequency.
I often realize that I can't let him hurt me like this, that I'm smart enough to see that he doesn't actually love me. But I can't seem to let him go. I have sacrificed so much at this point it would be stupid to give up.
I'm like that. I like to hurt myself.
Right now he's in Miami and I'm home with the dog he presented me with for our three years anniversary.
Most of the times the little sucker's a liability, but I love him (the little sucker is the dog, wasn't too clear).
Once a day he calls me (at improper hours, seen the time difference) and he tells me about these properties he wants to buy the square footage, the exposition, the millions, the investment, the girls he met ("But I didn't do anything, I swear!"), how they are hotter, skinnier and have bigger fake boobs than me.
And I'm here, in my little studio, with the dog, with 600 $ to my name, not buying pants I need cos I can't afford them, and I feel like we're a million miles apart.
We're in such different places. He has nothing to do in life, he doesn't have to work and his life is all fun and games, and in three years I haven't seen him change a bit. He's still the same, does the same shit and still behaves, from time to time, as if I don't exist.
He's going back to Miami in a month or so, after a little trip with his friends at the beginning of June. I am not invited to any of these activities, of course. I can't afford it. He could pay for it, but doesn't want to.
Poor little me could take advantage of him, you know.
It's liberating to say these things with no censorship. I mean, my mom and friends know everything, but it still feels good to share this with some people I don't even know.
I won't talk about food, it's been a mess last weekend, so I basically am at the same weight if not 1/3 pound higher. Fuck. And I also started working out again.
Ok I will talk about food. Had 580 cals today, walked an hour with the dog so net should be 420 or so. Not
satisfied. By the end of next week wanna be below 108 at least.
Gonna go finish watching Alpha Dog with my lookalike boyfirend-movie's quite good, but I'm watching it now because it reminds me of S- and probably have a sip of something. Almond flavored soy milk. Or Light Coke. Or white Jasmin tea.
Again, I suck at posting frequently. Actually it has been a hectic week. You see, living alone is a blessing and a pain in the ass. I literally have no time to do anything that is not essential: I wake up, clean dog's poop/pee, feed him, go out, drive to work, work, come back somewhere around 4 PM, take the dog out for an hour or so, buy something, clean some more, if it's a gym day I go to the gym, eat and finally sleep.
And of course, since I live away form my family I have no one to ask to do these things for me. There's no one that can take care of the dog, no one that can help me clean and I certainly do not have the money (at least right now) to pay someone to do it. Sure I have an unemployed boyfriend that COULD do it, or at least help me once in awhile, but he's way too spoiled and narcissistic to care about someone that isn't himself, so it's like I'm here alone.
I said someday I would be talking about this boyfriend (ok, I'll call him S) and I think I want to do it now.
It's been three years since we started going out. When I met him (totally random thing, like in a movie-a really cheesy one) I thought I couldn't be so lucky. Me!
He is handsome [he looks like Emile Hirsch, taller with a hotter body], rich, funny, smart and a great f...lover. So I couldn't believe that he was actually interested in me, poor little me. Me with my average everything, except my low self esteem.
So, we began dating and I fell madly in love with him.
Turns out he's a cheater, a keen cheater. Turns out he's a sadist, a subtle sadist. Turns out he has a problem with rage, nothing dangerous, but he gets mad like that. Turns out in life he just wants to have fun. Turns out he constantly reminds me of how fat I am, of how I should lose 20 pounds to be acceptable.
Turns out he tells me he loves me and that he wants to marry me someday. Turns out he's hurt and incredibly sweet and needy. Turns out with him I discovered I actually wanted children, a family and everything else. Turns out I would do anything to please him and to keep him with me.
He has caused me to spiral back into old ways and new fashions to hurt myself. And I moved from my hometown to be closer to him. I now live alone, he never asked me to move in.
Writing this down is really heavy. It lets me see what kind of a relationship I'm in. Everyone told me I should just fuck the bastard off and go on with my life, but I can't. Not right now.
He's crawled under my skin and into my mind so deep I don't know if I want him out, even if he hurts me.
Of course, not everything and every day with him is awful. We have great moments and we get along like no one I've ever seen. The ups match the downs in magnitude, but not in frequency.
I often realize that I can't let him hurt me like this, that I'm smart enough to see that he doesn't actually love me. But I can't seem to let him go. I have sacrificed so much at this point it would be stupid to give up.
I'm like that. I like to hurt myself.
Right now he's in Miami and I'm home with the dog he presented me with for our three years anniversary.
Most of the times the little sucker's a liability, but I love him (the little sucker is the dog, wasn't too clear).
Once a day he calls me (at improper hours, seen the time difference) and he tells me about these properties he wants to buy the square footage, the exposition, the millions, the investment, the girls he met ("But I didn't do anything, I swear!"), how they are hotter, skinnier and have bigger fake boobs than me.
And I'm here, in my little studio, with the dog, with 600 $ to my name, not buying pants I need cos I can't afford them, and I feel like we're a million miles apart.
We're in such different places. He has nothing to do in life, he doesn't have to work and his life is all fun and games, and in three years I haven't seen him change a bit. He's still the same, does the same shit and still behaves, from time to time, as if I don't exist.
He's going back to Miami in a month or so, after a little trip with his friends at the beginning of June. I am not invited to any of these activities, of course. I can't afford it. He could pay for it, but doesn't want to.
Poor little me could take advantage of him, you know.
It's liberating to say these things with no censorship. I mean, my mom and friends know everything, but it still feels good to share this with some people I don't even know.
I won't talk about food, it's been a mess last weekend, so I basically am at the same weight if not 1/3 pound higher. Fuck. And I also started working out again.
Ok I will talk about food. Had 580 cals today, walked an hour with the dog so net should be 420 or so. Not
satisfied. By the end of next week wanna be below 108 at least.
Gonna go finish watching Alpha Dog with my lookalike boyfirend-movie's quite good, but I'm watching it now because it reminds me of S- and probably have a sip of something. Almond flavored soy milk. Or Light Coke. Or white Jasmin tea.
Finally one big huge thanks to Bones, parisienne.love, Danae and Elara.
You surely made my day and I hope you appreciate my writing. My love goes out to you and good luck for whatever you're up to right now.
You surely made my day and I hope you appreciate my writing. My love goes out to you and good luck for whatever you're up to right now.
Hugs and lots of love-
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Wake me up before you GoGo
So, I weighed in today.
Actually I weigh myself more or less 3/4 times a day, but whatever. I lost 2 pounds- I am now 108.9.
Heaven knows how. I haven't been going to the gym in a month, haven't gone running and the only activity that had a physical quality to it has been walking the dog for an hour everyday.
I have been eating the usual safe stuff:
green apples
cereal soup
tuna canned in water
green salad
yogurt
zymil milk
soy milk (recently discovered the chocolate one, sooo good and sooo many useless calories on one box)
soy yogurt
bananas
pickles
oh, and LOTS of cinnamon everywhere (you name it and I've put cinnamon on it)
candies (ok, I am a kid and sometimes I like my candies. I know it's a bad idea but I can't resist them)
That's pretty much what I have in my house food wise. It's kinda sad when someone happens (quite rarely indeed) to come to my house and asks for food. I kinda really have nothing to prepare a decent meal with, except the pasta in the cabinet. That shall remain uncooked until guest's request.
But I feel comfortable without the carbs. I usually had a lot of them. I mean, a biscuit here, a cracker there, a loaf of bread and so forth.
But last month I ran out of these things and decided not to buy them again and, surprisingly I now don't miss them. Really, it's like a detox process. I can live without that. It's not necessary. And I have also managed not to binge in a proper way during this month (or actually it's more than one month, maybe one and a half).
The last binge I remember was on Monday, I got mad at the boyfriend (I have to find a name for him, cos it's way too generic and 90s) and binged on three chocolates (50x3) and a yogurt (145). Coulda been worse.
Before that I don't even remember. The truth is that now, when I am alone I cannot seem to force myself to eat what is not included in my previous list. I usually indulged when I was with other people, kinda like this-is-a-social-occasion-you-can-do-it-and-enjoy-it, but right now I am always keeping on the safe side. We go for a pizza, I have a salad.
And when I am alone and have to eat something for some reason, it's a big deal. I have been craving a pizza for awhile (as you might remember). And have gone out eating with friends a few time but, after a silent struggle, have always ordered the salad.
The only person I feel like can convince me, that can allow me to have something else is the boyfriend.
I shall discuss this matter in the next post, because there's a lot to talk about there.
In other news, here is hot as hell and sticky as shit, so I am quite displeased with the day. Right now I am laying on my bed, dog under my legs, typing the evening away.
And since I have been drinking a lot yesterday and the day before, I kinda need a night alone sober. I really hate people and social occasions. Like I am supposed to be interesting or interested or cute and funny. Recently I am depressed, useless and have little interest in making myself look hot when I think I am not. But I cannot resist an invitation, so I usually say yes, apart from tonite. That I remain alone and sober, deciding what to watch on TV.
Also, today was a 550 cal day. Way too much. But yesterday had no food, except for one yogurt around 6. But I don't even know why I bother to count calories: they always could've been less.
Actually I weigh myself more or less 3/4 times a day, but whatever. I lost 2 pounds- I am now 108.9.
Heaven knows how. I haven't been going to the gym in a month, haven't gone running and the only activity that had a physical quality to it has been walking the dog for an hour everyday.
I have been eating the usual safe stuff:
green apples
cereal soup
tuna canned in water
green salad
yogurt
zymil milk
soy milk (recently discovered the chocolate one, sooo good and sooo many useless calories on one box)
soy yogurt
bananas
pickles
oh, and LOTS of cinnamon everywhere (you name it and I've put cinnamon on it)
candies (ok, I am a kid and sometimes I like my candies. I know it's a bad idea but I can't resist them)
That's pretty much what I have in my house food wise. It's kinda sad when someone happens (quite rarely indeed) to come to my house and asks for food. I kinda really have nothing to prepare a decent meal with, except the pasta in the cabinet. That shall remain uncooked until guest's request.
But I feel comfortable without the carbs. I usually had a lot of them. I mean, a biscuit here, a cracker there, a loaf of bread and so forth.
But last month I ran out of these things and decided not to buy them again and, surprisingly I now don't miss them. Really, it's like a detox process. I can live without that. It's not necessary. And I have also managed not to binge in a proper way during this month (or actually it's more than one month, maybe one and a half).
The last binge I remember was on Monday, I got mad at the boyfriend (I have to find a name for him, cos it's way too generic and 90s) and binged on three chocolates (50x3) and a yogurt (145). Coulda been worse.
Before that I don't even remember. The truth is that now, when I am alone I cannot seem to force myself to eat what is not included in my previous list. I usually indulged when I was with other people, kinda like this-is-a-social-occasion-you-can-do-it-and-enjoy-it, but right now I am always keeping on the safe side. We go for a pizza, I have a salad.
And when I am alone and have to eat something for some reason, it's a big deal. I have been craving a pizza for awhile (as you might remember). And have gone out eating with friends a few time but, after a silent struggle, have always ordered the salad.
The only person I feel like can convince me, that can allow me to have something else is the boyfriend.
I shall discuss this matter in the next post, because there's a lot to talk about there.
In other news, here is hot as hell and sticky as shit, so I am quite displeased with the day. Right now I am laying on my bed, dog under my legs, typing the evening away.
And since I have been drinking a lot yesterday and the day before, I kinda need a night alone sober. I really hate people and social occasions. Like I am supposed to be interesting or interested or cute and funny. Recently I am depressed, useless and have little interest in making myself look hot when I think I am not. But I cannot resist an invitation, so I usually say yes, apart from tonite. That I remain alone and sober, deciding what to watch on TV.
Also, today was a 550 cal day. Way too much. But yesterday had no food, except for one yogurt around 6. But I don't even know why I bother to count calories: they always could've been less.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Full stop.
Why can’t I seem to post on a regular basis? Man, do I have to get a grip on that.
First things first: thanx to my two brand new followers Heather and Black Angel. Thank you for the interest.
And thank to Ms. Cinnamon Brown for mentioning me in her last post. I deeply appreciate the compliments, man I don’t think I deserve them. But really, even if I don’t know you IRL, I think you are someone that deserves happiness in life because you’re one of the last positive and caring people out there.
So, I need advice girls.
Please help me. Here’s the situation. I have (as I posted before) stopped taking the pill two months ago for various reasons: wanting to lose weight and at the moment I was on a break with my boyfriend and the thought of being reminded everyday that I had to live without him by that pill gave me the chills. So, I stopped taking it.
Another fact: my period’s always been a royal mess. Months skipped and always massively late when I am not on the pill. So I was quite prepared for some post-pill madness.
I had my last (pill) monthly bleeding in February, 27th. By now I should’ve already had two periods but I have had none.
I know I am not pregnant. I am positively sure about it, I took a test and in the meanwhile got blood tested (the results came out a bit all over the place, pointing towards anemia, but managed not to show them to the doctor) and everything came out negative.
But now my mom (who thank god lives in another town) is kinda worried and wants me to take tests and shit. I know I have lost some weight, but not that much to justify this. But I really don’t know. Is it imputable to a wrong eating pattern or what? Do you girls (who of course happen to read this blog) have any idea? Does it vary from person to person? Do you have insights and experiences you want to share?
I would be much grateful.
LoveLoveLove
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Memories. (like the corners of my mind)
Why can’t I seem to post on a regular basis? Man, do I have to get a grip on that.
Anyhow, pretty regular weekend. A friend of mine came over from my home town and we got out on Saturday nite and I drank like there’s no tomorrow- also ate quite a few carbs that always seem to find their way down my throat when I’m drunk.
Then Sunday I managed to keep it as usual.
Monday was totally depressing. I cut. Again.
I started when I was 16 and went on for 4 years more or less.
Then I gave myself a cut so bad it needed stitches. I had to call my parents (it was night) while dripping blood on the floor. I had my wrist open, the cut was an inch and a half wide. And I really didn’t want to hurt myself that much. It was a mere mistake. I was reading and dragging the blade on my skin, then I figured I could do a slash motion and when I turned I saw a fucking crack on my arm four fingers wide. Fuck, I thought. Then blood started dripping like teardrops on the floor and I started panicking.
Then all the routine, hospital, doctors asking how did I do it and so forth.
When I entered the ER this male nurse started asking me the usual questions, my name, age, where I lived, and how the heck it happened. I stood silent for five seconds.
I was ashamed and afraid. I hoped they wouldn't send me to the psych ward.
So I told him it was confidential. He glared back to the paper where he was writing down all the details and his pen froze halfway between the self inflicted and the accidental boxes.
When I entered the ER this male nurse started asking me the usual questions, my name, age, where I lived, and how the heck it happened. I stood silent for five seconds.
I was ashamed and afraid. I hoped they wouldn't send me to the psych ward.
So I told him it was confidential. He glared back to the paper where he was writing down all the details and his pen froze halfway between the self inflicted and the accidental boxes.
He eventually ticked the accidental one.
Figuring that that one act of humanity saved me from all the shite that would come next (psych ward, more meds, incompetent psychiatrists and so on) I realized I had to stop.
I didn’t want to live my life like that. Between hospitals, on meds, wasting time and all my energies. So I quit.
I didn’t want to live my life like that. Between hospitals, on meds, wasting time and all my energies. So I quit.
And stood clear of it for eight goddamn years.
Then, last summer I did it again.
With a different perspective: I had the right to do it. I had been thinking about it, talking about it (in therapy) and studying it (I have a degree in psychology) but I came to the conclusion that it was (is) my right to do it. Very clear, no drama about it. Just I am an adult and have all the means to decide how to handle my life and how to cope with problems. That’s just my way. Therapy can make me feel less hopeless and can give me an idea of a way out, but if at some point I decide to kill myself, that’s just my choice. I am smart, adult and wise.
Writing these things down is either a mistake or a really arguable idea. I hope my words will not trigger or touch anyone too much. It’s just ramblings, nothing more.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Just a thought
Hey Mich, thanks for following and commenting. I seriously adore your blog and your take on things. Oh, and the pics. I am honored.
Anyway, I was looking around blogs, comments and stuff-took a look at mine, so new and still immature- and I had a thought. I really like this community.
Sometimes in life you have the distinct feeling that the biggest part of mankind sucks. You encounter all kinds of people (friends, relatives, teachers, lovers, random strangers) and more than once one or more of them will hurt you. They will show low moral standards and virtues, no empathy, understanding and even lack of any decency.
I have thought mankind sucked so many times. Because of so many people.
But reading these pages, the comments, and the support and kindness that revolves around our stories made me change my mind.
Around here there's always a kind and empathic word, there's always unconditioned support and affection. No one knows no one in real life, I don't know any of you, I might meet you and I wouldn't know it. But the affection is true.
We learn to know and care for each other not only because we share the same (more or less) issues with food. But because we put it out there. Because we open ourselves and share.
Society teaches us to look strong, to never show weakness or ask for help. That's exactly what we do here. We share and ask for support.
And that's exactly why we care and genuinely support each other, like I have rarely seen in real life.
Kudos to you girls-
Hugs and Love
Anyway, I was looking around blogs, comments and stuff-took a look at mine, so new and still immature- and I had a thought. I really like this community.
Sometimes in life you have the distinct feeling that the biggest part of mankind sucks. You encounter all kinds of people (friends, relatives, teachers, lovers, random strangers) and more than once one or more of them will hurt you. They will show low moral standards and virtues, no empathy, understanding and even lack of any decency.
I have thought mankind sucked so many times. Because of so many people.
But reading these pages, the comments, and the support and kindness that revolves around our stories made me change my mind.
Around here there's always a kind and empathic word, there's always unconditioned support and affection. No one knows no one in real life, I don't know any of you, I might meet you and I wouldn't know it. But the affection is true.
We learn to know and care for each other not only because we share the same (more or less) issues with food. But because we put it out there. Because we open ourselves and share.
Society teaches us to look strong, to never show weakness or ask for help. That's exactly what we do here. We share and ask for support.
And that's exactly why we care and genuinely support each other, like I have rarely seen in real life.
Kudos to you girls-
Hugs and Love
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
The Dog
Today i've been eating like a pig:
two yogurts (activia- natural and cereals- 250 total)
cereal soup (half a bowl- 80 )
fuckin 4 chocolates (the same my boyfriend bought me, mentioned in the first post- 200 )
super skimmed milk (60 cals)
And it's 5.10 in the afternoon.
And feel like I need an ice cream. I am afraid I'm going to get one while i walk the dog in a few minutes.
Ok, it's not so much, like in the real world. But f*ck me it's an awful lot to me. Like terribly terrlbly wrong.
Because when I'm on this path it usually boils down to me devouring everything in sight like some kind of monster, thank god I don't have ready to eat carbs.
Ind thank god I can't make myself throw up. I just can't, I tried so many times, seriously like a lot of times, staying in the bathroom 20 minutes at a time but never succeeding. I just stand there halfway crouched on the toilet with almost my entire arm down my throat, and nothing. All I get is saliva and a cough.
But rationally, I am seriously glad. because I know, I am sure that by now I would be doing it twenty times a day and I would be even more f*cked up.
Five hours later-
I interrupted writing because I had to walk the dog.
So, I walked him (as depicted above) and came back home. Walked in the park, usual stuff, picking up poop etc. Came home and thought about food (of course) and since I was supposed to go out I thought I should eat something to fill me up in order not to binge on junk while drinking out.
So i had a can of tuna canned in water (50) and a banana (90).
Then things started to turn badly. I realized I was not eventually going out and I started stress eating. Like "if I'm not going out I should at least pleasure myself with food".
I ate a kiwi cereal activia yogurt (you know, that yogurt that supposedly wakes up your bowels) and a miniature pizza. Right this moment, as I am typing, there's another one of those things cooking in the oven and thank god I only had two in the freezer. So today was more like a 1000 cal day. I don't even wanna count exactly.
I am officialy a jerk. I already feel like shit (after those three yogurts my intestines are having a party and everything i had to eat in the past days is invited) and nauseous, but I'm here waiting for that stupid thing to be done. Then i will sit on the bed and eat it. I am such an idiot.
Ate it now. Not quite as good as I had planned.
Since I have this cute little dog (4 months old) and he is constantly eating plastic, paper, wood, chalk, you name it and hiccuping like crazy all the time, I have a plan.
I am going to the vet and have him prescribe the infamous ipecac syrup for the dog- aka in case of terrible emergency when I feel too much of a guilty and fat moron to walk on earth and have eaten too much.
I know it's poisonous, so I am not going to use it on a daily basis. Just once in a while, in case of emergency. like today.
All in all, today was a stupid day.
Cheers
Monday, May 2, 2011
Tamponless
first of all, thanx to my new two followers Elly and Jen Jen. Man, I am truly honored! thank you and I hope you will enjoy whatever I am writing. <3
So, today I was looking around my page in Myfitnesspal (you should totally get it!Sooo incredibly and disturbingly useful-I am impressed that no one has bothered accusing it of helping people developing EDs) and was checking out my progress when I realized I have lost 10 pounds in 6 months.
It's nothing near much but i was impressed. i also lost 2 inches around my waist and one and a half on my thighs and hips. Not much again, but i am impressed. I am impressed by the fact that i feel kinda equally fat.
I mean, i feel like i have 10 more pounds to go (ideal weight 100 lbs). So, does this mean that back in November i had 20 f*cking pounds of fat on me to lose??It kinda flips my brain out. Like, do I really have that bad perception of my own body? Okay, right now I feel a little skinnier and am kinda happy that the jeans that used to be god awful tight or off limits are now baggy. But other than that I feel not near my goal at all. I know that these 10 more pounds will be harder to shed even though I am still losing, but I am beginning to really feel the illusion behind this.
I'm halfway through and i feel so not accomplished at all.
I feel like i might get back to where I was overnight. That I might wake up tomorrow and be 120 again.
In the past three weeks or so I have not been attending the gym. Actually it was for a number of reasons (my knee acting up, other things to do etc) more than just plain laziness. For the past four months I have been taking this boxing class and it is incredibly hardcore workout as it is funny. So totally it's 3 times a week and 1 hour 30 each time: more or less 4 hours a week. I really started to see my body change after I begun this class, since I have always been the laziest b*tch on the planet and my body was rewarding my final effort to stay in shape.
I feel like shite for not going all this time, essentially because I was afraid that my metabolism would totally be slowed down again by the lack of workout.
Instead I am losing. despite the fact that the past weekend I have eaten like a pig and also the weekend before that. I don't seriously know how it is possible. Probably it is perfectly normal and logical and I'm just so f*cked up I don't get it.
I mean, I weigh myself after one of these uber caloric meals and I am seriously 3 pounds heavier. 36 hours later I am at the weight I was before, and a day later I am even a pound lighter.
Probably it is also because I decided to go off the pill. That shit makes you gain like crazy. Ok, the upside to that is that you are sure that you're getting your goddamn period on time and each and every month but when I started it I gained something like 6 pounds that I hadn't been able to shake off.
So, I stopped taking those pills two months ago. and now it seems like the second month I won't have to use tampons.
Hurray for that but darn it to the eternal doubt of being pregnant. Meh.
Win some, lose some.
So, today I was looking around my page in Myfitnesspal (you should totally get it!Sooo incredibly and disturbingly useful-I am impressed that no one has bothered accusing it of helping people developing EDs) and was checking out my progress when I realized I have lost 10 pounds in 6 months.
It's nothing near much but i was impressed. i also lost 2 inches around my waist and one and a half on my thighs and hips. Not much again, but i am impressed. I am impressed by the fact that i feel kinda equally fat.
I mean, i feel like i have 10 more pounds to go (ideal weight 100 lbs). So, does this mean that back in November i had 20 f*cking pounds of fat on me to lose??It kinda flips my brain out. Like, do I really have that bad perception of my own body? Okay, right now I feel a little skinnier and am kinda happy that the jeans that used to be god awful tight or off limits are now baggy. But other than that I feel not near my goal at all. I know that these 10 more pounds will be harder to shed even though I am still losing, but I am beginning to really feel the illusion behind this.
I'm halfway through and i feel so not accomplished at all.
I feel like i might get back to where I was overnight. That I might wake up tomorrow and be 120 again.
In the past three weeks or so I have not been attending the gym. Actually it was for a number of reasons (my knee acting up, other things to do etc) more than just plain laziness. For the past four months I have been taking this boxing class and it is incredibly hardcore workout as it is funny. So totally it's 3 times a week and 1 hour 30 each time: more or less 4 hours a week. I really started to see my body change after I begun this class, since I have always been the laziest b*tch on the planet and my body was rewarding my final effort to stay in shape.
I feel like shite for not going all this time, essentially because I was afraid that my metabolism would totally be slowed down again by the lack of workout.
Instead I am losing. despite the fact that the past weekend I have eaten like a pig and also the weekend before that. I don't seriously know how it is possible. Probably it is perfectly normal and logical and I'm just so f*cked up I don't get it.
I mean, I weigh myself after one of these uber caloric meals and I am seriously 3 pounds heavier. 36 hours later I am at the weight I was before, and a day later I am even a pound lighter.
Probably it is also because I decided to go off the pill. That shit makes you gain like crazy. Ok, the upside to that is that you are sure that you're getting your goddamn period on time and each and every month but when I started it I gained something like 6 pounds that I hadn't been able to shake off.
So, I stopped taking those pills two months ago. and now it seems like the second month I won't have to use tampons.
Hurray for that but darn it to the eternal doubt of being pregnant. Meh.
Win some, lose some.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)