Some things do last

Things that last are usually negative. Depression, eating disorders, dysfunctional relationships, grief… why is it so easy for bad things to last and not good?? 

I was productive today. I was thorough. I was mindful of my speech. I didn’t feel super depressed. I ate really well. It was nice. I don’t feel like I get days like this too often. I wish I hadn’t had to work all day… I wish I could bottle this and save it. I wish it would happen several days in a row at least.

I have a doctor appointment on Friday, and I want to start Wellbutrin. I’m ready for meds. The husband and I  officially decided not to have any more children - it was spoken aloud to my mother in law on Monday. I am relieved. It’s time to restructure my thinking about my goals and plans. It feels good to be decided on this finally. It feels good to know my body won’t be hijacked again to make another baby and I can just do with it what I want.   

I caught up with Mouse a bit tonight. I have missed her. I wish I could see her. I wish she lived closer. I wish Covid wasn’t stopping so many of my relationships from flourishing. She has been my friend since we were 12. That’s insane… I truly love her and am so glad she’s around again. It was a weird life not having her in it. She belongs with me. Idk why the universe decided that, but it did clearly. I don’t understand why she even wants to be friends with me… I don’t feel worthy on many levels in that dynamic. 

I have been obsessively looking at clothes, but I decided no more purchasing for my current size and no buying the size smaller until I actually AM the size smaller. I have about $250 worth of wishlist items that I plan to buy once I hit my goal weight. I need to do it… 

This weekend I struggled and gained a bit. Idk exactly how much because I have put off weighing in…I know I fucked up… I was good today, but I need like 2 solid weeks of doing well before I fuck up again, and I can’t keep purging, as my teeth really hurt the past couple days...

Planned eats for the week:

• Breakfast - protein shake coffee drink 
• Lunch - nuts and supplements 
• Dinner - reasonable for Ana. 

I just want to think thin eternally.

Calling out

No matter the circumstance, I am depressed. I feel like I’m uncomfortable and angsty every moment of my life. Even on days that are relatively good days, internally I feel terrible. I don’t know if it’s because of my lack of sleep since my child was essentially born, anxiety, depression, a combination of things… but it sucks. 

It hurts to go home. Because I miss it. I moved away from my childhood town, found a city that I love, and lived there for 7 years… And I miss it. Every time I go back I want to stay. I want to home up somewhere and never leave. 

I want call out of life. 

Sex and somehow still Chevy

I wonder if I’ve ever really liked sex. Sometimes afterward, I just feel gross. Maybe that’s not the word, exactly… I’m just over it when it’s over. I feel like I drag myself into it when it happens And not just because I feel fat - like I just don’t get much satisfaction out of the physical act. Even when I have enjoyed sex in my life, it was because of the psychological game. I made it my goal to make the person fall in love with me. Sex was not enough - I wanted power. I wanted the other person to worship me and my body. I wanted to never hear “no,” and I never did. I always got what I wanted when it got to that point. And everyone I cut it off with or made emotional always had an emotional reaction to me.

And now there is none of the game element to it in my life. I enjoy sex ok. It’s fine, but it’s not something that I feel like I even need. I could go months without and be ok. Orgasms aren’t worth that much to me. 

Subject change abruptly.

I was thinking about Chevy earlier. About that day that I pushed him into the walk in to yell at him, and the initial smirky look on his face would indicate that he thought I was pushing him in there for another reason… until I started talking. I still can’t believe that we never even kissed. We should have. I should have just gone for it like I did with every other boy I ever kissed. I’ve initiated it the most. With good results. Maybe it was a lack of experience that made me feel like I couldn’t. Maybe I thought he would reject it. I just wish he would have kissed me… 

I don’t know why he didn’t save me. He could have. I wanted him to. I wanted to hear, “don’t be with this guy; be with me. I want you.” But he never said it. Everyone else said he felt that way- that it was obvious. But then he should have told me. I would have been with him. It may have killed me, but I would have burned out in a blaze of glory with a heart on fire for him. I loved him. I probably still do.

It’s so sad that 15 years later I still think about him. I tear up when I do for too long. I wish I had been worth enough for him to take whatever perceived risk there would have been. I wish I could talk to him once more in life. I wish I could ask him what made him hesitate. Was it me, or something within him? Did he actually love me like everyone said? Why did he respond once on that warm summer evening in 2012 and then never again? Why wouldn’t he let me in then? Why didn’t he ever tell me how he felt about me? 

I think he thought I was stronger than I was. I think he didn’t understand that I wasn’t doing what I wanted to do. He thought I would hurt him by saying no. He thought if I wanted to leave, I would. He didn’t understand that I couldn’t. How could he? I didn’t even understand that I couldn’t or that I wanted to.

I would give anything for the universe to give me one day with him again. Not in a life-changing-forever way; I just wish I could bump into him in a grocery store, swap numbers, get coffee once, talk about old days, and then go our separate ways. 

I think I’m actually quite lucky that my husband did rescue me. He didn’t hesitate. He sized things up and decided to risk it. He said the things. They’re very similar in a lot of ways, Chevy and my husband, and I wonder what made the actual difference. 

I also wonder why I couldn’t save myself, and why I never seem to be able to do that. I feel helpless when it comes to taking care of me. I’m bad to me. 

Sigh

The scale was nice to me again this morning. I have had 500 calories of dumb shit today and a binge and purge. I feel disgusting, but not in the worst way. I just know I could have done something healthier with my intake today.

The husband got me flowers and a card and candy (that I threw up). I’m trying to give this another chance in emotion as well as action. I’m not feeling like emotion is an option, though. I can go back to the routine and the actions of being invested in this, but emotionally I’m not feeling or thinking that way. This could end at any moment, and I would be fine. I can see he’s getting desperate, clingy. He knows he’s a fuck up and that I don’t deserve this. I told him the only domain of my life that really sucks is him. I meant it. 

When we got married I gave up all my wild ways. Some days I really regret that. Some days I want to be disordered and crazy and have fun again. I miss fun. I thought being mentally healthier would equate feeling better, and it does in some ways, but not in others. It’s less fun. And meeting people like this lunatic this week makes me question everything… I don’t think I would want what she has, but I’m not quite happy with what I have either. There’s a side to me that wants to throw this relationship away and go wild, and there’s a part of me that wants to stay strong with my husband and hole up somewhere in the universe and not have other people around at all. I don’t know what this should realistically or healthily look like, but I’m not thrilled with the current status. 

I have lost all my friends, but I don’t seem to want to do anything about it. I don’t think I have the energy for friends right now in my life. I barely have the energy to work part time. Maybe once I get the toddler in vpk and the husband graduated, I can figure that out. 

And I’m feeling a little disappointed with my friends currently… I know no one is perfect, but I don’t feel like a priority in some peoples lives and that’s hard. I’ve been feeling disappointed with the M’s if I’m honest with myself… they’re there for gossip or jokes, but not when I’m super struggling sometimes. They can’t handle what my life really looks like, and I get that. 

It’s also difficult not being everyone’s brand. That part hurts sometimes. I knew yesterday I was talking too much. I couldn’t stop. I lost a client. 

My mental health needs help. I can’t wait until I go to my doctor appointment and the eye doctor. These constant eye strain headaches are not helping anything. I want to be able to see again and pop a pill every day to help me feel better. 

Everyone sucks

I’m emotional today. I go into days like this thinking I will refrain from speaking about myself. But then the reality is that I can’t. Shut. Up. I end my work day hating myself. 

My husband called me fat this morning. I am not honestly sure it if was to just upset me, or if he genuinely thinks it… It doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s correct, but completely inappropriate. I spent the morning finding places I could go stay or he could go stay. He declined, and I don’t have the energy to take the toddler away, so here we sit in our house in separate rooms feeling resentful. Every article I read about this kind of behavior is clear- He changes, or you leave. I don’t know if change is possible. I’m a believer in it, to an extent…  but, I’m not seeing progress with him like I need to. At this moment, I don’t even want to be with him. The thoughts of having a life away from him are more frequent and seem less daunting and impossible. I know I would be fine. I would probably be happy. I’m not sure I want a relationship at all.

I weighed myself this afternoon, and the scale was kind to me. I was not deserving after my eating last night. I couldn’t stop. I binged on whatever I could find. I think I ate like 1,700 calories, but today it was a lower weight than I’ve seen in a long time. I don’t even actually know how long… 

I think I weighed this in May after my surgery when I lost weight. It would probably help if I journaled the numbers, but just the fact that about 6 people consistently read this crap I write makes me feel too ashamed to slap a number on anything. It’s still a disgustingly high weight, but an improvement. I would like to lose about 20 more pounds. That would put me at the weight I was when I first got pregnant and right after toddler was born… that’s a good weight for me. I’ve lost 15… it’s not even enough, and I can’t believe I have this much to lose at all. It makes me want to fucking kill myself. A younger version of me would feel like I needed to lose about 40lbs right now. At this point I just want to be in my weight range and not fucking over it. Eating disorder and baby = shittiest metabolism ever. 

I thought today I might be normal with my eating. I thought I would allow some things I liked and try to eat like a reasonable, normal person. But that’s out now. I had about 700 calories. I’m done. I don’t know how to not be extreme. I’m not sure I even want to not be extreme. If anything I wish I could be more extreme. 

The husband wanted to order pizza. I declined. He went to get food and offered. I declined. He texted me when he was out. I declined. You can’t call me fat and then try to feed me. Fuck you.

My mom texted me today. She said “Cally, I know in your letter you said that you didn't want a relationship with us but this is my number if you ever want to talk  mom.” Bitch you don’t know shit. You said you didn’t read my letter. Clearly you didn’t. So how do you even know what it said?? And what the fuck would I want to talk to you about?? I haven’t had your number in 3 months. We haven’t had a conversation about jack anything in almost a year. 

I didn’t reply. I didn’t tell my husband about it. I read it and didn’t save the number and am currently just leaving it in my texts. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I’m not interested in repairing the dynamic. I wrote a whole ass letter. You chose not to acknowledge anything. I want to rip her a new one, but what would that even do?? I’m already the bad guy in this. I literally cannot win. 

Theme of my life currently. Like cannot win. I’m so glad for E and the M’s. Especially E. If he moves to the coast, I might join him. I miss my best friend. 

Realizations

I’m a fucked up person. I’m a goddam mess. I was a huge mess back then, and I had myself convinced I was ok... That I was becoming healthier. I was a motherfucking train wreck. In grad school, I was a train wreck. The WORST person. My behavior was insane. Why did I have to act like that?? And pretend I was doing well…?

I did drugs, got fucked up all the time, always had a side boy… why did I act like that? And why do I have some perspective that I was actually doing quite well then?? I didn’t start to get better for months past the event… and I was insane leading into it… I changed the timeline in my head. I made myself feel better about things, but it wasn’t until graduation that I was getting any of my shit together.

I am unlovable. That is why this marriage is not working. I am impossible to please when I should be working harder than ever to please someone else. I tear him down and he tears me down. Is this even going to work?? 

I’m at a loss

I’m trying hard to get my eating under control but I’m struggling a lot. My default is to binge. And then purge. Restricting is hard for me. 

Making conscious choices about food without being extreme is hard for me. I’m trying to have enough fuel (ie food in my body) to keep my mood intact and have the energy to do my job, be a mom, and do well with my husband. I’m trying not to be high maintenance with where I’ll allow us to eat or what. I’m trying to be careful not to go to either end of the spectrum too hard. 

I have no fucking balance with this. I’m either starving myself or eating enough for 3 of me. And I can’t keep being fat, so overeating is just creating purging recklessly and without regret. 

This morning I ate 2 egg whites, most of an apple, and a cup of coffee with one half and half creamer. There was a time when each of those things individual would have been a whole ass breakfast for me. It was still only about 120 calories at the most, but damn. I mean, is it crazy to agonize over 120 calories?? The pistachio packet that I ate yesterday and the protein shake the day before created the same reaction within me. These are reasonable, healthy options. These are foods that give me fuel to survive. 

Why is this so hard for me???? 

Then the other side of me is like “fuck it, just eat gummy bears and chips in bed with the lights off after getting super fucking high.” What IS that?? Is it because I let myself get too hungry? Is it because I have a fucked up brain?? 

I don’t even know how to qualify what I ate today... Breakfast as above, lunch was chips (about 12) and salsa, dinner was a cup of pasta salad and 3 French fries. It was about 600 calories total for the day. But damn lacking.

Tomorrow, I have no plan. I have no fucking life plan. I’m tired of everything. 

Vacay time

Binge and purge. It’s whatever. 

We booked a trip. That’s how you salvage a failing marriage - throw a vacation at it. For our anniversary. It feels amazing to be able to spend the money and plan a weekend that will let us feel like Covid isn’t around as badly as it is. I need it. I need it so badly I could die.   

2 months until I need to be ok with a swimsuit on the beach and showering outside. I’m going to lose weight, get a tan, and get some new clothes. I’m going to nail this. 

Time to restrict really hard. Time to cleanse. Time to fast. 

No food tomorrow. Planned intake is Diet Coke, water, gummy vitamins and fiber drink.

Should I start taking meds before this trip? I think so… 

Suffocating

Covid let me hide away. 

Social distancing = no social life. This means it doesn’t matter how I look in a dress/heels/makeup/shorts/swimsuit/tank tops because no one will fucking see me. 

I’m tired of that. I want to be seen. I want to start doing things again. Right now, I don’t encourage it, because I know my family is terrified of Covid, and I am terrified of how I look in literally all clothing. So I stay home where I’m safe and fat. 

The last 3 days I have barely eaten. Thursday I fasted, and Friday and Saturday comprised of one meal each day and a few bites or sips of whatever. I feel empty. I feel good. 

I weighed myself today, and I weigh one pound less than I did in May after my surgery weight loss. The weight I gained back due to hating my fucking job is almost gone. 3 more pounds and I’ll be at that weight. I need to lose at least 18 more pounds right now. I don’t even want to be thin anymore - I just don’t want to be fucking fat like I am now. 

I told my husband the other day if we ended this relationship,  I would get super skinny. He asked, “why would we have to end this for that to happen?” I didn’t reply. My thought process was intense…

Like: Because I want to do it in a way he wouldn’t like. Because it would involve coke and booze and starving like I have before. Because when it was intense the first time, I didn’t use coke or booze, but now I know how to do that also. So it would be game on. It wouldn’t take me long at all, especially if I was single and my child went back and forth each week and I had days completely alone where I didn’t need to be responsible. If I let that part of me out to the degree I would want to, he would not be able to handle it. I’m fat because this relationship has seemed ok the last 3 years. But now it doesn’t seem ok. 

So now what? I just do what I want for me. Maybe not the methods I would prefer but starving and weed will work. And I don’t even want approval... I want to be thin and seen. I miss being like I was in North Carolina. I had fucking confidence. I didn’t realize it, but I did. I felt good about how I looked. I haven’t felt that in years. Ever since I got pregnant I have hated my fucking body. That’s like 4 fucking years. 

I need to find myself again. I’m suffocating under a massive layer of fat and the weight of the world. 

Settle or leave

He gets nice when he needs something or wants something. Then it’s back to being a dick. I am really starting to resent him. 

I’m starting to think the only way to be happy is to be alone. Maybe what we think is achievable in relationships is not real. Maybe couples either resent each other and settle, or leave. Maybe there is no long-term happiness with a person. I don’t know anyone that has it. Ever. 

Maybe I got the best part of this already and it’s time to go. Maybe that’s what happens - you get a good small portion, and then you have to either settle or leave. 

I choose leave. I’m tired of being treated like this. I wonder if he will do it so I don’t have to. I wish he would. But I know he won’t make that decision for us. It’s always been me. And then I let him back in. So why would he change?? There’s no consequences. Seeing me suffer is not a consequence for him.  

Fast

I didn’t eat today. My husband is doing prep for a colonoscopy tomorrow, so I fasted also… Diet Coke and water is all I had today. Because he couldn’t eat, he didn’t see that I didn’t…

Today’s cals: 0

I forgot how good starving feels. 

I forgot what it’s like to fast for an entire day based on a whim in the morning. To get busy and forget about food, to not have to cook anything for a day, to feel empty. To just ignore that food exists.  

I feel foggy. I can’t form thoughts well. I feel good. 

Fuck food and thus stupid fat fucking body I’m trapped in. I’m going to look at thinspo. 

Think thin forever. 

Probation

He says I don’t listen. I don’t. Not to him. I’m done with listening to void, meaningless shit. I don’t care what his feedback is, because I don’t plan on changing anything about the way I operate with the current status of things. I’m not doing anything wrong, and the feedback I receive is about things like my parenting style or other shit he has no room to speak on. He says I talk to him with an attitude, but the percentage of the time that’s I do that to him, versus how much he does that to me, is minuscule in comparison. He’s entitled. He’s comfortable. He says I’m on probation. He’s going to have a rude awakening when he realizes this is all that I’m ever going to do for him. To change for him is to lose myself. I’m not losing myself for anyone in this life that does not cherish me. I will not mold into what I’m asked to become. If you cannot handle the person I am, I do not want to handle you. I don’t need anyone.