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.