Relaxed, fasted, saved my energy and waited waited waited to walk 6 miles during the hottest part of the day. I didn't feel like I was sweating at all (but then again w/ a restrictive sports bra - medium my ass - a beater, men's long underwear, and a long sleeve cotton t-shirt, what can you really feel anymore?) so I was skeptical. I still plodded along though. Resisted the temptation to cheat, chug water, or catch the train back and pretend like I gave it my all.
Well, hard work pays the fuck off! I came back and pushed through 600 crunches (I was feeling the number 6 today) and stepped on that lovely little scale and nearly genuflected on the spot, I was so grateful to finally see 110. Can you believe that? It just confirms my thoughts that consistency gets results. Plain old sweat and cardio will get you where you want to go. Don't eat, don't gain. It can't get more simple than that.
Yes, what am I going to do once I start eating again? I get this question quite a bit.
Who the fuck says I'm ever going to eat normally again?
I have no problem having a few sips here, a bite a day twice a week there if I feel like it or can afford to gain under a pound that can easily be peed out/worked off later or the next day. Anymore than that and I'm going to get full, I'm going to retain, I'm going to get an extended belly, and I'm going to get depressed. I know how that story ends (in a binge and purge!) and I refuse to let it play through again. Way to tiring and I just can't bring myself to do that anymore. No, thank you!
See, I might be starving myself to death, but I don't want any unwanted attention/interruptions until it happens. I'm not even sure I want it to happen. I was so miserable before, but now I've got this to keep going. HWSNN is a fat, insensitive loser that was never good enough for me, but I was wallowing in depression and my fat thighs. Now, I have less of my thighs to hate and I'm not bed-ridden, so that's a plus. Maybe I can finally drag my ass away from him and pretend the last 4+ years didn't happen?
Hell, why stop there. Let me just pretend this whole life up 'til know didn't happen, and I just appeared as Fat Free Choco and didn't go through my Dark Choco phase! Pft, yeah right. See, that's my problem - I think too much. Let me just keep trodding along, one foot in front of the other, and not waste energy wondering about this or that. I'm pleased I'm making progress and I need to ignore all the other bullshit.
Skinny September is off to a solid start.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Failure, Party of One?
Didn't reach 110.
Binged on soy milk and am now even further away.
Hope I pee it out and can starve enough the next week while the gym is closed not to gain.
Will start walking again, starting tomorrow (at least 5 miles during the hottest part of the day to sweat the most, in my long underwear, 3 layers, etc.)
HWSNN was kicked out tonight for seriously looking me dead in the eye and trying to convince me to give him a year to fucking cheat on me. Oh, how I wish I could post his fat face all over the internet and shame him and his disgusting parents for raising such a base, selfish, miserable little cunt of a human being.
Whatever, next time I feel like binging, let me not forget how disgusting he is and how sick of this life I am and keep my fucking mouth shut. I couldn't even binge a pound tonight, I was just to tired/sick of it all.
Oh, did I mention he keeps telling me about one of his stupid Chinese friend (who's probably racist and spoke shit about me like the rest of them all did when I wasn't around) who wants to invest in American stocks? Why the *fuck* would I help this loser any more than I already have, or his dumbass friend that I don't even know? Do these idiots have no fucking shame? Two days in a row he's brought this investing shit up, I just told him to let me have a moment to clear my head, I just had a crappy day. How much more selfish can a pig get?? How many of his dumb cocksucking friends have I helped only to find out they've said so much racist shit about me and never to hear from them/have a smidgen of appreciation shown towards me at all? Fuck that and fuck them and fuck him for letting them think I'm just here to be used by everyone.
And that's all, folks! I really have nothing useful to say. I was late to work today because I couldn't get out of bed, went to the gym late, and still didn't even move the goddam scale. Bad day all around ended on a predictable low note.
Wake me up when I'm dead, ok? Thanks.
Binged on soy milk and am now even further away.
Hope I pee it out and can starve enough the next week while the gym is closed not to gain.
Will start walking again, starting tomorrow (at least 5 miles during the hottest part of the day to sweat the most, in my long underwear, 3 layers, etc.)
HWSNN was kicked out tonight for seriously looking me dead in the eye and trying to convince me to give him a year to fucking cheat on me. Oh, how I wish I could post his fat face all over the internet and shame him and his disgusting parents for raising such a base, selfish, miserable little cunt of a human being.
Whatever, next time I feel like binging, let me not forget how disgusting he is and how sick of this life I am and keep my fucking mouth shut. I couldn't even binge a pound tonight, I was just to tired/sick of it all.
Oh, did I mention he keeps telling me about one of his stupid Chinese friend (who's probably racist and spoke shit about me like the rest of them all did when I wasn't around) who wants to invest in American stocks? Why the *fuck* would I help this loser any more than I already have, or his dumbass friend that I don't even know? Do these idiots have no fucking shame? Two days in a row he's brought this investing shit up, I just told him to let me have a moment to clear my head, I just had a crappy day. How much more selfish can a pig get?? How many of his dumb cocksucking friends have I helped only to find out they've said so much racist shit about me and never to hear from them/have a smidgen of appreciation shown towards me at all? Fuck that and fuck them and fuck him for letting them think I'm just here to be used by everyone.
And that's all, folks! I really have nothing useful to say. I was late to work today because I couldn't get out of bed, went to the gym late, and still didn't even move the goddam scale. Bad day all around ended on a predictable low note.
Wake me up when I'm dead, ok? Thanks.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Binged on Popsicles - Dammit All!
And that's why I'm not 110 by now. Damn shame. There's 1 more day before August is over. Gonna wake up and put in my time and try not to pass out at work. I was so cold today, I didn't wear any tights, so my toes and chest were exposed and I just felt a little worn thin. My mouth was so dry from talking about stupid bullshit products that I neither care about nor would I myself even buy (stupid, overpriced material shit) that I had to rinse it out several times.
I binged during lunch because I was sitting out in the sun with sweatpants on under my dress (grabbed them from my bag) and it just felt so good. I didn't freak out though, because I ended up peeing it out later. But I was disappointed in myself because I didn't put in the hours/effort today in the evening. Whenever I cheat or don't push myself, the Almighty Scale knows and punishes me by not moving. It's ok though, there's still time tomorrow morning. I'm not getting my hopes up though, because I just drank some water and had twice as many pops as I should have (had to take a Centrium, my feet have been cramping intermittently since this afternoon).
Oh, and as expected, HWSNN is acting like a petulant child. Television's so loud again, I couldn't even follow what I was writing just now (hope it makes sense) and picking little fights. I just can't stand him. He's so selfish and negative. And he knows I know he's going out of his way to be as annoying as possible, trying to push my buttons and shit. Doesn't he realize, his stupid dick antics just fuel me to keep going and not fuck this up? Thanks, asshole. You're just the reminder I need as to why I keep this up so I can take my frustrations out somehow...I may not be the happiest, but I can keep trying to be the thinnest.
I binged during lunch because I was sitting out in the sun with sweatpants on under my dress (grabbed them from my bag) and it just felt so good. I didn't freak out though, because I ended up peeing it out later. But I was disappointed in myself because I didn't put in the hours/effort today in the evening. Whenever I cheat or don't push myself, the Almighty Scale knows and punishes me by not moving. It's ok though, there's still time tomorrow morning. I'm not getting my hopes up though, because I just drank some water and had twice as many pops as I should have (had to take a Centrium, my feet have been cramping intermittently since this afternoon).
Oh, and as expected, HWSNN is acting like a petulant child. Television's so loud again, I couldn't even follow what I was writing just now (hope it makes sense) and picking little fights. I just can't stand him. He's so selfish and negative. And he knows I know he's going out of his way to be as annoying as possible, trying to push my buttons and shit. Doesn't he realize, his stupid dick antics just fuel me to keep going and not fuck this up? Thanks, asshole. You're just the reminder I need as to why I keep this up so I can take my frustrations out somehow...I may not be the happiest, but I can keep trying to be the thinnest.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Just Another Day Without Food
Trying to go to bed early so I can get up and have enough time to sweat off at least a pound tomorrow before work. This will be pretty short.
I'm really close to 110 and I'm pleased that my hard work is going to pay off for once. Today was especially hard - HWSNN has been giving me grief all freaking day and I'm proud of myself for not giving in. He had so many chances to make things better between us and he shat all over each and every one. Selfish and greedy and (being the fat fucker he is) wanted to have his cake and eat it to. Now he just wants to ruin my plans and keep me miserable and clinging to him. He's not used to ever seeing me with such control and dedication in a long time, maybe even ever.
Anyway, I just need to keep this up until Thursday, and then I can finally eat something. Just wanted to post something today, this idiot is right next to me and being annoying as ever. I can't even hear myself think. Typical. He sees me online and wants all the attention on him - television is blaring, every two seconds he's poking me to mess up my attention. Did I mention he woke me up at 4AM with some smutty crap on Showtime? I can't change the past but I won't let him ruin my future.
Stay focused, stay strong, stay losing weight. That's all that matters right now...it keeps me focused and keeps me going.
I'm really close to 110 and I'm pleased that my hard work is going to pay off for once. Today was especially hard - HWSNN has been giving me grief all freaking day and I'm proud of myself for not giving in. He had so many chances to make things better between us and he shat all over each and every one. Selfish and greedy and (being the fat fucker he is) wanted to have his cake and eat it to. Now he just wants to ruin my plans and keep me miserable and clinging to him. He's not used to ever seeing me with such control and dedication in a long time, maybe even ever.
Anyway, I just need to keep this up until Thursday, and then I can finally eat something. Just wanted to post something today, this idiot is right next to me and being annoying as ever. I can't even hear myself think. Typical. He sees me online and wants all the attention on him - television is blaring, every two seconds he's poking me to mess up my attention. Did I mention he woke me up at 4AM with some smutty crap on Showtime? I can't change the past but I won't let him ruin my future.
Stay focused, stay strong, stay losing weight. That's all that matters right now...it keeps me focused and keeps me going.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Return of the Choco Beast!
Yes, yes, it's been an entire MONTH since I posted something. And don't think I forgot or overlooked it or didn't want to. I thought about it every day, but was going so up and down that I just couldn't bring myself to write about anything. Who am I to sit here and preach about "skinny or die, mother suckaaaa!" if I took a fucking "break" for 2 or 3 days and let myself get back up to 120.
Oh shit, fat's out of the bag now isn't it? Yup, I ate like a donkey - Mongolian barbeque and Mrs. Field's mini cookies for you Curious Cathys - and didn't purge because I didn't fucking feel like it. Also, because HWSNN got me a new laptop that I was in dire need of and had been dreaming about for some time now (not this particular one, because it's actually bigger than my last one, which makes me feel like I'm in a way bigger and needed something to accomodate my fat fingers/self, but that's for another post). That day I had been in heels for hours, walking around at work, then spending several more hours walking around trying to decide which machine to get, I was so famished. Combine physical exhaustion with HWSNN's pestering of never seeing me eat anything, I just gave in and *devoured* that spicy goodness, oh gawd.
Anyway anyway, lets not rehash the past. I ate and I enjoyed it for a second and felt bad and let it continue until I got up to 120 and nearly committed seppuku right there in the hotel bathroom because I undid how many weeks of working out in just how many days? Really Choco? *This* is your idea of "Fat Free" by eating half the food court in one evening? Oh hellz no!
So I vaguely admitted my transgressions on Twatter and vowed to get things under control. I never like to mention specific foods or anything, so I don't trigger anyone (I haaaaaaaaate those fat bitches that not only can't stop themselves from eating, but can't stop themselves from tweeting about all the nasty shit they just inhaled! Seriously? Why are you trying to drag the rest of us down with you??? Just say you binged and keep it moving! Don't go into detail about how the food was prepared and *ugh* go so far to post pics! Fat fuckers >:(
What was I saying? Yeah, so I've given up purging until at least after the gym is open again (it'll be closed from the 1st through the 8th for "renovations" read: because the staff is lazy and just wants time off. I bet not a damn fucking thing will be different) mainly because I am sick of it and I don't even want to eat. Two very good reasons, right? I waste so much time heaving my innards up and out that I could be relaxing in bed or doing whatever it is my ass wants, not doubled over some disgusting hole used to collect fecal matter and urine. Also, if I eat *anything* I immediately look at the time, see how long I have left until my body absorbs the damage, and count down if I can make it safely or not to get it out. Beyond crazy and obsessive. I don't want to do that anymore. But this is the case for any and everything I consume - nuts, fruit, liquids. Liquids are not air, people. They will show up on the scale!
Oh yes, I've given up my stupid lax tea for the time being (read: it's been about a week) because that shit was just adding water weight and not really moving shit - no pun intended. So what's a Mia to do to get her hydration fix? I discovered the wonderful world of popsicles! But not the fatty fat American kind that are XXL and full of sugar and milk or juice and shit. I'm talk the micro mini kind (like under 30 ml) from Japan that are more colored frozen water than anything. Amaaazing! I can have 5 in a day and it's not showing up on the scale enough for me to lose my shit. Ok, what's .2 lb really matter anyway? The alternative is me trying to only have a can of Rock* and not let it open the floodgates is always very slim. Regardless, I'd put back on the pound I just sweat out in the gym, and hate myself for the rest of the day. These ice pops are amazing and something different that helps me regulate what's going in me. And I'm still hydrated enough to trickle something out at regular intervals and when I wake up. Last thing I need is me passing out 'cos of dehydration, or even worse, dying out of the blue and I'm still big! I'd have nothing to show for all the shit I've been putting myself through, and the coroner would just be like: well, that was a waste. Her thighs are still huge!
So, anyway, I'm back and I'm skinny again. I as 113.8 before (barely 113 but I claimed that shit proudly!) and now I'm 113.4 and I haven't been purging every day, so I'm pleased. I got 3 new kinds of popsicles today: one is foul (I'll let HWSNN devour those), one is so so (only if I'm desperate), and one is great but has pieces of fruit in it :-| Whyyy! I don't want food sitting in my intestines, piling up and adding to my weight before I hit 105. Shit! There are only 5 in the box, thankfully, so I won't get this kind again for a few weeks. I know this is beyond looney tunes but a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do. I want to get back to restricting and stop this purging altogether. Let me finish August strong and actually try and enjoy September. It's not Mission: Impossible and I know I can do it if I remain strong. One day, one step, one pound closer to what I want...
Oh shit, fat's out of the bag now isn't it? Yup, I ate like a donkey - Mongolian barbeque and Mrs. Field's mini cookies for you Curious Cathys - and didn't purge because I didn't fucking feel like it. Also, because HWSNN got me a new laptop that I was in dire need of and had been dreaming about for some time now (not this particular one, because it's actually bigger than my last one, which makes me feel like I'm in a way bigger and needed something to accomodate my fat fingers/self, but that's for another post). That day I had been in heels for hours, walking around at work, then spending several more hours walking around trying to decide which machine to get, I was so famished. Combine physical exhaustion with HWSNN's pestering of never seeing me eat anything, I just gave in and *devoured* that spicy goodness, oh gawd.
Anyway anyway, lets not rehash the past. I ate and I enjoyed it for a second and felt bad and let it continue until I got up to 120 and nearly committed seppuku right there in the hotel bathroom because I undid how many weeks of working out in just how many days? Really Choco? *This* is your idea of "Fat Free" by eating half the food court in one evening? Oh hellz no!
So I vaguely admitted my transgressions on Twatter and vowed to get things under control. I never like to mention specific foods or anything, so I don't trigger anyone (I haaaaaaaaate those fat bitches that not only can't stop themselves from eating, but can't stop themselves from tweeting about all the nasty shit they just inhaled! Seriously? Why are you trying to drag the rest of us down with you??? Just say you binged and keep it moving! Don't go into detail about how the food was prepared and *ugh* go so far to post pics! Fat fuckers >:(
What was I saying? Yeah, so I've given up purging until at least after the gym is open again (it'll be closed from the 1st through the 8th for "renovations" read: because the staff is lazy and just wants time off. I bet not a damn fucking thing will be different) mainly because I am sick of it and I don't even want to eat. Two very good reasons, right? I waste so much time heaving my innards up and out that I could be relaxing in bed or doing whatever it is my ass wants, not doubled over some disgusting hole used to collect fecal matter and urine. Also, if I eat *anything* I immediately look at the time, see how long I have left until my body absorbs the damage, and count down if I can make it safely or not to get it out. Beyond crazy and obsessive. I don't want to do that anymore. But this is the case for any and everything I consume - nuts, fruit, liquids. Liquids are not air, people. They will show up on the scale!
Oh yes, I've given up my stupid lax tea for the time being (read: it's been about a week) because that shit was just adding water weight and not really moving shit - no pun intended. So what's a Mia to do to get her hydration fix? I discovered the wonderful world of popsicles! But not the fatty fat American kind that are XXL and full of sugar and milk or juice and shit. I'm talk the micro mini kind (like under 30 ml) from Japan that are more colored frozen water than anything. Amaaazing! I can have 5 in a day and it's not showing up on the scale enough for me to lose my shit. Ok, what's .2 lb really matter anyway? The alternative is me trying to only have a can of Rock* and not let it open the floodgates is always very slim. Regardless, I'd put back on the pound I just sweat out in the gym, and hate myself for the rest of the day. These ice pops are amazing and something different that helps me regulate what's going in me. And I'm still hydrated enough to trickle something out at regular intervals and when I wake up. Last thing I need is me passing out 'cos of dehydration, or even worse, dying out of the blue and I'm still big! I'd have nothing to show for all the shit I've been putting myself through, and the coroner would just be like: well, that was a waste. Her thighs are still huge!
So, anyway, I'm back and I'm skinny again. I as 113.8 before (barely 113 but I claimed that shit proudly!) and now I'm 113.4 and I haven't been purging every day, so I'm pleased. I got 3 new kinds of popsicles today: one is foul (I'll let HWSNN devour those), one is so so (only if I'm desperate), and one is great but has pieces of fruit in it :-| Whyyy! I don't want food sitting in my intestines, piling up and adding to my weight before I hit 105. Shit! There are only 5 in the box, thankfully, so I won't get this kind again for a few weeks. I know this is beyond looney tunes but a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do. I want to get back to restricting and stop this purging altogether. Let me finish August strong and actually try and enjoy September. It's not Mission: Impossible and I know I can do it if I remain strong. One day, one step, one pound closer to what I want...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Shitty Weekend (No Surprise)!
I'll keep this *really* brief (I know I always say that and then go on to write the Illiad) 'cos I'm packing up to leave. Want to have enough time to go to the gym early, drop of HWSNN, go back to the gym, clean up, and head to my interview in time. I want it that way and so it shall be!
I just wrote 2 paragraphs that went into detail about why I was so despondent this weekend, but it's much too shameful and depressing. No need to get specific about why my life sucks, just trust me, it does. Anyway, I didn't work out or steam today, and I'm sure I'm going to wake up a fat whale tomorrow. Marvelous! I will deal with that when the time comes to step on the scale.
Bought some makeup at the mall in an attempt to hide the dark circles under my eyes and trick people into thinking I'm pretty, but I just can't put this shit on my face. It's supposedly organic, animal-friendly, yadda yadda, but I only bought a primer and some concealer and a brush (and some "mist" to hydrate???) and shit was $150. I feel way too guilty and the sample she put on me makes me look like an oily pig. I'm returning this shit tomorrow. I'm fat and I'm ugly and I look like a sad panda - oh well! These are the genes I was born with. Why fake the funk with war paint? So god help me if I ever step out without it, people will hid their babies from me in terror. Well, the little Chinese ladies do that now already, anyway so no biggie.
What else? Oh yeah, tried on 27 shorts/jumpers at Forever 21, too big too big. Yes! Size 0s are a 24, so I must be a 3 or so? I want to be a 2, that's nice and even and definitely small. A 4 is somewhere in the land of not quite small enough and smaller than that *other* fatty over there, but don't get too cocky 'cos you're one latte away yourself. I want to lose 2 inches from my thighs. Then I will be able to feel like a real skinny twig bitch and can at least throw on what I want and make other hos feel fat and unhappy and hang around the mall/beach/wherever the fuck I want all day. Yes, I'll still be a miserable hag in an awful relationship, but who needs to know that other than me?
I just wrote 2 paragraphs that went into detail about why I was so despondent this weekend, but it's much too shameful and depressing. No need to get specific about why my life sucks, just trust me, it does. Anyway, I didn't work out or steam today, and I'm sure I'm going to wake up a fat whale tomorrow. Marvelous! I will deal with that when the time comes to step on the scale.
Bought some makeup at the mall in an attempt to hide the dark circles under my eyes and trick people into thinking I'm pretty, but I just can't put this shit on my face. It's supposedly organic, animal-friendly, yadda yadda, but I only bought a primer and some concealer and a brush (and some "mist" to hydrate???) and shit was $150. I feel way too guilty and the sample she put on me makes me look like an oily pig. I'm returning this shit tomorrow. I'm fat and I'm ugly and I look like a sad panda - oh well! These are the genes I was born with. Why fake the funk with war paint? So god help me if I ever step out without it, people will hid their babies from me in terror. Well, the little Chinese ladies do that now already, anyway so no biggie.
What else? Oh yeah, tried on 27 shorts/jumpers at Forever 21, too big too big. Yes! Size 0s are a 24, so I must be a 3 or so? I want to be a 2, that's nice and even and definitely small. A 4 is somewhere in the land of not quite small enough and smaller than that *other* fatty over there, but don't get too cocky 'cos you're one latte away yourself. I want to lose 2 inches from my thighs. Then I will be able to feel like a real skinny twig bitch and can at least throw on what I want and make other hos feel fat and unhappy and hang around the mall/beach/wherever the fuck I want all day. Yes, I'll still be a miserable hag in an awful relationship, but who needs to know that other than me?
Friday, July 22, 2011
Feeling Grumpy + Cold
I feel like HWSNN won't fucking shut the fuck up today - talking on and on and on about fucking nothing and getting on my last fucking nerve! He's beyond annoying! Every time I'm trying to do anything, he just opens his mouth so he can hear himself talk (literally, no exaggeration) and I can't even concentrate on whether to drink this or that, order this or that, purge now or in two minutes. Plus, I've started to let him drive because I'm fucking tired as shit all the time, and every time he's behind the wheel, I feel myself on the verge of having a heart attack. He never fucking listens! Just now, we were almost swiped by a truck and I'm sure his ass didn't even get why or realize the gravity of colliding with a semi. Of course, I would be the one ripped to shreds because it was on my side that he was drifting, just to keep that in mind. Maybe he's secretly trying to off me with all this bad driving, make it seem like an accident...hm...
Anyway, I'm in a foul as fuck mood because I spent all that time in the gym today only to get down to 118.2 That's the rate I used to be losing but once I decided to make up and try and do double time, I've been losing at least 1.x lbs so I see a different number every day. This is just what I was dreading would happen: the effort I put in is no longer enough, I'm already giving it my all, and my weight loss starts to stall. 118. 1 fucking 18. Would it have killed my body to sweat just a little more so I could see 117 today and know that I'm that much further from 120? My day feels like it was wasted (might as well eat that whole truck of food, pass the tabasco, please) and it makes me angry and nobody in particular. Other than myself.
On top of that, I crave everything over ice, so I have less of it and so I don't chug it, but that shit lowers my body temperature faster than a skinny can say "Splenda instead of sugar, please!" I'm always FREEZING after I rehydrate and stay FREEZING until I can pile on my boots and coat and sweater and whatever else, then I'm PISSED that I wasted time trying to plan a cute outfit or wear this skimpy top/dress that shows off my small arms because no one can even see them under all these goddamm layers - what's the fricken point??? Ugh, just thinking about how today was such a disappointment seems to have raised my body temperature (I'm wearing two coats and typing like the world's about to end so that may also have something to do with it) slightly, so that's nice. Let me try and be positive - I wore this bright yellow jumper in an effort to cheer myself up and I'm probably the most irritable I've been in a while. All because I couldn't sweat out .4 more lbs before I went and ate/purged. So fucking lame.
Oh yeah, I really wanted to pamper myself a bit before going to this crappy club tonight, but HWSNN insisted on eating, and all the spas closed by the time that was done. Marvelous. Then it was too late to squeeze basketball in - fantastic! I'm not going to waste anymore time bitching on here. Clubs close so goddam early over here (1:30, are you kidding me!!!) that I want to get there early and be the only one shaking my (newly) flat ass on the dancefloor if necessary, because I have to make up for today's string of disappointments. Oh gawd, what will I wear? I don't want to wear something skimpy, I want to be covered head to toe and just sweat my life out! But that shit isn't cute! Ah, l'sigh. I'm not going to stress though. Everyone's busted and beyond fat/sloppy in this town. By me showing up in something other than pajamas is an automatic placement at the top of the best dressed list, no lie.
I *must* be in constant motion tonight and sweat like nobody's business ('cos it's not) and I *must* make it to 2 classes tomorrow: Total Core/Shaping/Fusion/Some bullshit and Aqua Athletics or whatever it's called to make up for today. Almighty Scale, show mercy and fucking let me see 117 tomorrow, I implore you! Your humble servant can only take so much, wah~
Anyway, I'm in a foul as fuck mood because I spent all that time in the gym today only to get down to 118.2 That's the rate I used to be losing but once I decided to make up and try and do double time, I've been losing at least 1.x lbs so I see a different number every day. This is just what I was dreading would happen: the effort I put in is no longer enough, I'm already giving it my all, and my weight loss starts to stall. 118. 1 fucking 18. Would it have killed my body to sweat just a little more so I could see 117 today and know that I'm that much further from 120? My day feels like it was wasted (might as well eat that whole truck of food, pass the tabasco, please) and it makes me angry and nobody in particular. Other than myself.
On top of that, I crave everything over ice, so I have less of it and so I don't chug it, but that shit lowers my body temperature faster than a skinny can say "Splenda instead of sugar, please!" I'm always FREEZING after I rehydrate and stay FREEZING until I can pile on my boots and coat and sweater and whatever else, then I'm PISSED that I wasted time trying to plan a cute outfit or wear this skimpy top/dress that shows off my small arms because no one can even see them under all these goddamm layers - what's the fricken point??? Ugh, just thinking about how today was such a disappointment seems to have raised my body temperature (I'm wearing two coats and typing like the world's about to end so that may also have something to do with it) slightly, so that's nice. Let me try and be positive - I wore this bright yellow jumper in an effort to cheer myself up and I'm probably the most irritable I've been in a while. All because I couldn't sweat out .4 more lbs before I went and ate/purged. So fucking lame.
Oh yeah, I really wanted to pamper myself a bit before going to this crappy club tonight, but HWSNN insisted on eating, and all the spas closed by the time that was done. Marvelous. Then it was too late to squeeze basketball in - fantastic! I'm not going to waste anymore time bitching on here. Clubs close so goddam early over here (1:30, are you kidding me!!!) that I want to get there early and be the only one shaking my (newly) flat ass on the dancefloor if necessary, because I have to make up for today's string of disappointments. Oh gawd, what will I wear? I don't want to wear something skimpy, I want to be covered head to toe and just sweat my life out! But that shit isn't cute! Ah, l'sigh. I'm not going to stress though. Everyone's busted and beyond fat/sloppy in this town. By me showing up in something other than pajamas is an automatic placement at the top of the best dressed list, no lie.
I *must* be in constant motion tonight and sweat like nobody's business ('cos it's not) and I *must* make it to 2 classes tomorrow: Total Core/Shaping/Fusion/Some bullshit and Aqua Athletics or whatever it's called to make up for today. Almighty Scale, show mercy and fucking let me see 117 tomorrow, I implore you! Your humble servant can only take so much, wah~
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Fasted for 4 Days, Waste of Time
So I haven't been on here for what seems like donkey years and that's been a mix of me not wanting to drag my ass anywhere to go online and a mix of feeling like I was a big loser for not keeping my pace of 5 lbs/9 days. So, I chalked it up to "conserving energy" and "staying focused" and really just skirted anything else I had to do outside of going to the gym, finding new classes to join (because I said I would!), and losing weight. If I'm not going to face anything else that I have to do, at least let me do a good job with pleasing the scale, right?
Well, I've been doing good enough, I suppose. Enough so that the whores at the gym have the gall to bring up how much time I spend there everyday and to follow me around like hungry wolves to a roasting pig. This is exactly why I hate gyms - full of nosy bitches and horny pricks that want to fill their eyes to the brim full of other people: fat, skinny, whatever. They soak it up because they're not satisfied with their own lumps of flesh and pass time judging/lusting over others. If you'd only focus more on your ass then you'd be out faster and have more time to enjoy life outside, right, ho? Stop staring at me and stare at your own droopy snatch, maybe you'd do those squats a little bit better.
Ahem. I digress.
So, I've been maintaining a pound lost a day, which is slightly more than what I was doing before (still trying to make up for the past. Gawd, why can't I get over it?) but really now, how long can I keep this up? I say I'll be so happy to get to 115 and will ease up but that's a lie. That'll only be the end of the month, probably. I still have a month's membership. And if the scale goes from moving every day to just every other day...oh gee. It's going to fuck with my head. Like, rational me will say, "it's ok. .6 lbs lost is still good, and still going down. Chill the fuck out!" while irrational me will say, "you inadequate loser. It's still the same goddamm number! What's wrong with you! Somewhere out there, someone's reaching her goal and getting the gigs and guys and glory you want, and it's not you!" and then I'll be bed-ridden for a few days.
So, let me keep doing what was working before - eat and purge - and sweat as much as possible in 4-6 hours. Waking up early and going for 2 hrs, then dropping off HWSNN and heading back to get the rest out worked well for the week or so that I did it. I should try that again. Doing 1 big chunk of gym at a time is draining. I really hate people and how they always want to talk about shit that has nothing to do with them, quip about this and that and stare like they were raised without consideration or manners (probably were). No, if I can help it, I'll take the gym in small doses - crunches, steaming, classes, bball, adios!
HWSNN had some work dinners this week, so I obviously had no reason to eat by myself. I remember before feeling the urge to buy food and eat it alone in the room, without anyone seeing me and without having to see anyone, like some secret shame (ugh, weirdo). Now, I don't even *want* to eat. I know the full feeling that will follow and that feeling equals failure. Failure that I couldn't eat just 5 bites less, failure that I couldn't just not eat at all, failure that I even feel bad about eating 100 cals of nothing! Vegetables and fucking air. So I just restricted my liquid intake so I don't pass out from dehydration and didn't eat until today.
Tell me why the fuck it seemed like my body decided to give me grief and hold on to those liquids for dear life??? Even though I was sweating buckets, I felt like the scale was baaaarely moving. Then I realized that all the purging was sucking those liquids right out of me as fast as I was putting them in, duh! The little bit of lax tea or whatever that I would sip on right before bed didn't really matter, 'cos that's essentially all that stuck with me. So fasting is so not worth it for me. I want to drink drink drink as usual, but I'm so dehydrated that my body just holds on to that shit like a sponge and I barely pee anything out. I didn't feel shaky or so weak that I couldn't function before, so I'm going back to what I know best. Tonight though, I barely ate anything and just couldn't eat anymore. It was so unlike me. If I'm going to eat, I'm going to *eat* and not stop until it's gone. Guess my stomach has other plans for me, these days. I'm not complaining tho. Less time scarfing down means less of a chance that shit is absorbed and retained and more of a chance for me to keep getting smaller.
Speaking of which, my thighs might have shrunk (still trying to figure out if this is true) but it's in proportion to how I was before!!!! I'm MEGA MAD at this fact - what's the fucking point! Now I'm a walking bag of bones draped in chocolate, propped up by two fat marshmallow mounds. Give me a break! I thought my top couldn't get any smaller, and yet, the weight still seems to be coming from there. I can almost hear my thighs taunting me, "we're not going anywhere, Fatty McGee! You're stuck with us for liiiiife, mwa ha ha haaaa" every time I look in the mirror. It's *seriously* frustrating. It's beyond irritating, it's sad. I'll probably be forced to stop going to the gym before I can get them the way I want them to be, and then what am I going to do? I wish I could just donate them to some Body Salvation Army and pick up some other obsessed gal's thighs (that are probably perfectly normal) to replace them...wouldn't that be grand?
Well, I've been doing good enough, I suppose. Enough so that the whores at the gym have the gall to bring up how much time I spend there everyday and to follow me around like hungry wolves to a roasting pig. This is exactly why I hate gyms - full of nosy bitches and horny pricks that want to fill their eyes to the brim full of other people: fat, skinny, whatever. They soak it up because they're not satisfied with their own lumps of flesh and pass time judging/lusting over others. If you'd only focus more on your ass then you'd be out faster and have more time to enjoy life outside, right, ho? Stop staring at me and stare at your own droopy snatch, maybe you'd do those squats a little bit better.
Ahem. I digress.
So, I've been maintaining a pound lost a day, which is slightly more than what I was doing before (still trying to make up for the past. Gawd, why can't I get over it?) but really now, how long can I keep this up? I say I'll be so happy to get to 115 and will ease up but that's a lie. That'll only be the end of the month, probably. I still have a month's membership. And if the scale goes from moving every day to just every other day...oh gee. It's going to fuck with my head. Like, rational me will say, "it's ok. .6 lbs lost is still good, and still going down. Chill the fuck out!" while irrational me will say, "you inadequate loser. It's still the same goddamm number! What's wrong with you! Somewhere out there, someone's reaching her goal and getting the gigs and guys and glory you want, and it's not you!" and then I'll be bed-ridden for a few days.
So, let me keep doing what was working before - eat and purge - and sweat as much as possible in 4-6 hours. Waking up early and going for 2 hrs, then dropping off HWSNN and heading back to get the rest out worked well for the week or so that I did it. I should try that again. Doing 1 big chunk of gym at a time is draining. I really hate people and how they always want to talk about shit that has nothing to do with them, quip about this and that and stare like they were raised without consideration or manners (probably were). No, if I can help it, I'll take the gym in small doses - crunches, steaming, classes, bball, adios!
HWSNN had some work dinners this week, so I obviously had no reason to eat by myself. I remember before feeling the urge to buy food and eat it alone in the room, without anyone seeing me and without having to see anyone, like some secret shame (ugh, weirdo). Now, I don't even *want* to eat. I know the full feeling that will follow and that feeling equals failure. Failure that I couldn't eat just 5 bites less, failure that I couldn't just not eat at all, failure that I even feel bad about eating 100 cals of nothing! Vegetables and fucking air. So I just restricted my liquid intake so I don't pass out from dehydration and didn't eat until today.
Tell me why the fuck it seemed like my body decided to give me grief and hold on to those liquids for dear life??? Even though I was sweating buckets, I felt like the scale was baaaarely moving. Then I realized that all the purging was sucking those liquids right out of me as fast as I was putting them in, duh! The little bit of lax tea or whatever that I would sip on right before bed didn't really matter, 'cos that's essentially all that stuck with me. So fasting is so not worth it for me. I want to drink drink drink as usual, but I'm so dehydrated that my body just holds on to that shit like a sponge and I barely pee anything out. I didn't feel shaky or so weak that I couldn't function before, so I'm going back to what I know best. Tonight though, I barely ate anything and just couldn't eat anymore. It was so unlike me. If I'm going to eat, I'm going to *eat* and not stop until it's gone. Guess my stomach has other plans for me, these days. I'm not complaining tho. Less time scarfing down means less of a chance that shit is absorbed and retained and more of a chance for me to keep getting smaller.
Speaking of which, my thighs might have shrunk (still trying to figure out if this is true) but it's in proportion to how I was before!!!! I'm MEGA MAD at this fact - what's the fucking point! Now I'm a walking bag of bones draped in chocolate, propped up by two fat marshmallow mounds. Give me a break! I thought my top couldn't get any smaller, and yet, the weight still seems to be coming from there. I can almost hear my thighs taunting me, "we're not going anywhere, Fatty McGee! You're stuck with us for liiiiife, mwa ha ha haaaa" every time I look in the mirror. It's *seriously* frustrating. It's beyond irritating, it's sad. I'll probably be forced to stop going to the gym before I can get them the way I want them to be, and then what am I going to do? I wish I could just donate them to some Body Salvation Army and pick up some other obsessed gal's thighs (that are probably perfectly normal) to replace them...wouldn't that be grand?
Sunday, July 17, 2011
I'm a Fat, Lazy, Hypocrite!
I'll keep this short because I want to get up early to steam for 2 hours before I drive HWSNN to work and then begin my afternoon onslaught of at least 5 miles. It's already after 11 (can't believe it) and I feel like getting a goddam spicy big bite from the devil's headquarters (7-11, why do they have to be open 24/7???) I probably will but I thought I was too tired to binge. But who cares? I'll get cold and feel even worse and hopefully just sleep through the night and wake up without hitting snooze in the morning.
Today was another bunk day. I only walked 5.75 miles and played neither basketball nor beach tennis long enough. I just could not bring myself to do either for as long as I wanted (30 and 15 mins respectively) because I was bored. I wasn't whooping ass in bball, yes I was winning at first but I just felt like doing something else, and I was doing well with the faux-tennis, but again, my mind was elsewhere. And god help me if my heart isn't in something, my body will not follow, that's for sure. Every job that I found boring or a waste of my time, I just mentally shut myself off and disconnected until I quit because I'd just show up so late and couldn't be bothered.
So what did I do? I almost cut a fat bitch in the steam room for barking at me to cut off the light, when there are 2 HUGE signs that say the lights must be kept on at all times (probably for whackjobs like me that try and sleep in there, so the nosy staff can see if somebody's passed out when they make their rounds). That whore wasted my time and got me so fucking mad that I didn't enjoy my steaming and actually left 5 mins early when I could have squeeze out another .2 pounds and seen 121 today. Isn't that some shit?! If I see that fucking stumpy sack of shit in there again I will seriously tell her to shut the fuck up and go get a dictionary to translate and comprehend the signs. She had the *nerve* to belch out: it's my choooooice. No you fucking fat lump of lard, your choice was to stop eating decades ago so you could enjoy the benefits of having little old lady legs that are twigs. *That* was your choice! Being a nasty cunt and yelling at me about turning the goddam lights on so I can read and last longer while I'm sweating out my fat misery is *not* your choice!!
That's fine though, moment's passed. I will kick her ass if she dares cross me again - I argued for 30 seconds and said to myself, "she obviously doesn't know what a grudge holding bitch I am. She'll learn soon enough." I pay my pennies to suffer in this smelly shithole just like you, you short little twat. Don't start making up rules and pulling out "rights" from your flabby ass like you run shit. I'm not on that Californian-high-all-the-time-good-vibes-duuuude shit either. I'm straight East Coast crazy and will make you cry before you even realized I insulted you, your kids, your parents, and whatever else comes to mind.
Ugh, what a negative post! And so much for keeping it short, damn. Sorry about that. I'm just mad at myself for not getting to the gym early enough and paying the price. Tomorrow's going to be full of phone calls, running around, trying to get crap done that I don't want to do, but HWSNN certainly can't/won't do himself, and other lameness. I just want to be skinny already, get a job doing something that fat people can't do, and enjoy the perks that come with thinness. I want my hard work to really show and bring a smile to my lips instead of this furrow at my brow. I want results, dammit!
Today was another bunk day. I only walked 5.75 miles and played neither basketball nor beach tennis long enough. I just could not bring myself to do either for as long as I wanted (30 and 15 mins respectively) because I was bored. I wasn't whooping ass in bball, yes I was winning at first but I just felt like doing something else, and I was doing well with the faux-tennis, but again, my mind was elsewhere. And god help me if my heart isn't in something, my body will not follow, that's for sure. Every job that I found boring or a waste of my time, I just mentally shut myself off and disconnected until I quit because I'd just show up so late and couldn't be bothered.
So what did I do? I almost cut a fat bitch in the steam room for barking at me to cut off the light, when there are 2 HUGE signs that say the lights must be kept on at all times (probably for whackjobs like me that try and sleep in there, so the nosy staff can see if somebody's passed out when they make their rounds). That whore wasted my time and got me so fucking mad that I didn't enjoy my steaming and actually left 5 mins early when I could have squeeze out another .2 pounds and seen 121 today. Isn't that some shit?! If I see that fucking stumpy sack of shit in there again I will seriously tell her to shut the fuck up and go get a dictionary to translate and comprehend the signs. She had the *nerve* to belch out: it's my choooooice. No you fucking fat lump of lard, your choice was to stop eating decades ago so you could enjoy the benefits of having little old lady legs that are twigs. *That* was your choice! Being a nasty cunt and yelling at me about turning the goddam lights on so I can read and last longer while I'm sweating out my fat misery is *not* your choice!!
That's fine though, moment's passed. I will kick her ass if she dares cross me again - I argued for 30 seconds and said to myself, "she obviously doesn't know what a grudge holding bitch I am. She'll learn soon enough." I pay my pennies to suffer in this smelly shithole just like you, you short little twat. Don't start making up rules and pulling out "rights" from your flabby ass like you run shit. I'm not on that Californian-high-all-the-time-good-vibes-duuuude shit either. I'm straight East Coast crazy and will make you cry before you even realized I insulted you, your kids, your parents, and whatever else comes to mind.
Ugh, what a negative post! And so much for keeping it short, damn. Sorry about that. I'm just mad at myself for not getting to the gym early enough and paying the price. Tomorrow's going to be full of phone calls, running around, trying to get crap done that I don't want to do, but HWSNN certainly can't/won't do himself, and other lameness. I just want to be skinny already, get a job doing something that fat people can't do, and enjoy the perks that come with thinness. I want my hard work to really show and bring a smile to my lips instead of this furrow at my brow. I want results, dammit!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Hit A Mental Roadblock Today
But I still managed to push myself to stick w/ my gym time until I saw 122 (praise be to you, Almighty Scale!) and am happy I did. According to my progress chart, I should've been 120, but let me stop harping on last week. That horse is dead and rotting now, what's done is done. As a reminder to what happens when I slack off, I forced myself to go shopping and went straight to the "small" section for everything: dresses, jeans, bras. The usual things that never fit the way they should and make me sad and mopey. Last time I went shopping at the beginning of the month, I could barely get into size 5 skinny jeans. Well, today I got my fat ass in, zipped up, and not bursting out. Damn right I bought 3 pairs of different colors and styles and brands just to make sure I don't ever try and give myself a break in the next 6 weeks before my gym membership expires (I'm not renewing that shit, fuck no).
If I'm able to drop 30 lbs in in this first month and a half, what can I do in the second? At the very *least* get down to 110. If I'm not a size 3 or even a 1 by then, I'll feel like a failure. Not because those numbers are anything special, but because they are lower than where I am now. They signify progress and a step closer to perfection. My thighs still jiggle now and the gap is barely noticeable. There's maybe a pencil's width of space and they still spread when I sit. I want smooth sailing between my legs (that sounds dirty, hm) and no change from when I go from standing to sitting to squatting to whatever. I want sticks for legs, essentially, yes. When they get very slender, I'll start toning them so they don't look gross. I don't want muscle, but I don't want wobbly, either. I was so pleased with myself at dinner, I had almost nothing! Purging was a breeze! It's like, I can't even will myself to eat like I was even a week ago, because it's just so exhausting to deal with the guilt and doubting if I got everything out. Once I'm out of the 120s, I'm just going to stick to 24 oz a day, fuck it.
Oh, I tried 32As because I'm sick of wearing these junior's tops with the boobs built-in (it's been wicked cold these days and I need a bra for under my 4 layers - tank, long sleeve, turtleneck, hoodie - so I don't let my sad chest get on my nerves. The 34Bs I've been wearing suck! I wear them all the way over, so isn't that essentially like a 32? Whenever I'm measured, they say 32 but before that shit was uncomfortable, so I always took 34s and just wore them as tight as possible. I hate back fat and bras that look like they're cutting off circulation. In reality, I think I was a 33 or something. Anyway, the 32s are for true skinnies that are like, 31s or something, because I felt like a fraud. The A cup was fine, I barely filled that shit out either, and the padding felt like I was walking around with airbags so whatever. I didn't get any of them. I'll stick to my less padded bras that run smaller (I have about 3 now that are decent, just lined, no padding) and my dresses/tops that come with breasts pre-installed. HWSNN says he feels like he's sleeping with a different person now, it's weird, and I think, 'Good. Then the old me is really becoming a thing of the past, finally.'
I was going to wait until the 110s to try going out again, get new clothes and try new places that are a little trendier, start shmoozing my way to meeting the right people to get connections and look for management. Then I thought, why wait? Go to the places you hate (because they're filled with tiny women of East-Asian descent that weren't raised on this fatty fat moo moo shit) and just dance until you can't move - and then dance some more. I'm not interested in getting attention - never happens - or making fake friends for the night to never hear from them again or having some ugly drunk try and liquor me up to rub his dirty dick on me in some corner. Thanks, but college was over years ago. I'm gonna do my own thing and enjoy the music and just not think about anything for 2 hours. Have I forgotten what it means to have a good time?
Ah, I bought more long underwear for my workout shit, so I'll never have to go another day w/o a pair like today. I power-walked 7 miles today and was actually please! That might not sound like much, but considering I usually only do 4 or 5, this was really pretty good for me. But I didn't sweat anything out - here comes the feeling of inadequacy again. I was devastated. Seriously, I wanted to just leave the gym right then. Why didn't any of my fat/frustration/failure come out as usual? I was wearing 4 layers. It's because I had a loose sweatshirt on instead of my usual tight, long underwear, duh! Never again will I waste time like that if it doesn't translate to buckets of sweat drenching my clothes. Sweat = exertion = results. End of story.
Well, time to get my ass moving and get back to the shithole to change and head out. My afro looks like crap and I have to de-hairify my body but who cares? I got a shit ton of new flavored chapstick and with heels my underarms will be so far above everyone's head, who's going to notice? I'm getting waxed when I hit 120 I decided. I know, I was supposed to get a laptop but we're supposedly moving next week and I should probably wait. 120 waxing and yoga pants, 115 pedi and bikinis (small bottoms or I'm going to scream!!), 110 new laptop and new management. Life's so much easier when you have a clear plan and goals that you can actually attain. If I wasn't focused on getting my body in proportion, I don't know how I would get out of bed every day, honestly. Actually, I know I wouldn't. That was me for the last X months before this, basically. Never again, never again.
If I'm able to drop 30 lbs in in this first month and a half, what can I do in the second? At the very *least* get down to 110. If I'm not a size 3 or even a 1 by then, I'll feel like a failure. Not because those numbers are anything special, but because they are lower than where I am now. They signify progress and a step closer to perfection. My thighs still jiggle now and the gap is barely noticeable. There's maybe a pencil's width of space and they still spread when I sit. I want smooth sailing between my legs (that sounds dirty, hm) and no change from when I go from standing to sitting to squatting to whatever. I want sticks for legs, essentially, yes. When they get very slender, I'll start toning them so they don't look gross. I don't want muscle, but I don't want wobbly, either. I was so pleased with myself at dinner, I had almost nothing! Purging was a breeze! It's like, I can't even will myself to eat like I was even a week ago, because it's just so exhausting to deal with the guilt and doubting if I got everything out. Once I'm out of the 120s, I'm just going to stick to 24 oz a day, fuck it.
Oh, I tried 32As because I'm sick of wearing these junior's tops with the boobs built-in (it's been wicked cold these days and I need a bra for under my 4 layers - tank, long sleeve, turtleneck, hoodie - so I don't let my sad chest get on my nerves. The 34Bs I've been wearing suck! I wear them all the way over, so isn't that essentially like a 32? Whenever I'm measured, they say 32 but before that shit was uncomfortable, so I always took 34s and just wore them as tight as possible. I hate back fat and bras that look like they're cutting off circulation. In reality, I think I was a 33 or something. Anyway, the 32s are for true skinnies that are like, 31s or something, because I felt like a fraud. The A cup was fine, I barely filled that shit out either, and the padding felt like I was walking around with airbags so whatever. I didn't get any of them. I'll stick to my less padded bras that run smaller (I have about 3 now that are decent, just lined, no padding) and my dresses/tops that come with breasts pre-installed. HWSNN says he feels like he's sleeping with a different person now, it's weird, and I think, 'Good. Then the old me is really becoming a thing of the past, finally.'
I was going to wait until the 110s to try going out again, get new clothes and try new places that are a little trendier, start shmoozing my way to meeting the right people to get connections and look for management. Then I thought, why wait? Go to the places you hate (because they're filled with tiny women of East-Asian descent that weren't raised on this fatty fat moo moo shit) and just dance until you can't move - and then dance some more. I'm not interested in getting attention - never happens - or making fake friends for the night to never hear from them again or having some ugly drunk try and liquor me up to rub his dirty dick on me in some corner. Thanks, but college was over years ago. I'm gonna do my own thing and enjoy the music and just not think about anything for 2 hours. Have I forgotten what it means to have a good time?
Ah, I bought more long underwear for my workout shit, so I'll never have to go another day w/o a pair like today. I power-walked 7 miles today and was actually please! That might not sound like much, but considering I usually only do 4 or 5, this was really pretty good for me. But I didn't sweat anything out - here comes the feeling of inadequacy again. I was devastated. Seriously, I wanted to just leave the gym right then. Why didn't any of my fat/frustration/failure come out as usual? I was wearing 4 layers. It's because I had a loose sweatshirt on instead of my usual tight, long underwear, duh! Never again will I waste time like that if it doesn't translate to buckets of sweat drenching my clothes. Sweat = exertion = results. End of story.
Well, time to get my ass moving and get back to the shithole to change and head out. My afro looks like crap and I have to de-hairify my body but who cares? I got a shit ton of new flavored chapstick and with heels my underarms will be so far above everyone's head, who's going to notice? I'm getting waxed when I hit 120 I decided. I know, I was supposed to get a laptop but we're supposedly moving next week and I should probably wait. 120 waxing and yoga pants, 115 pedi and bikinis (small bottoms or I'm going to scream!!), 110 new laptop and new management. Life's so much easier when you have a clear plan and goals that you can actually attain. If I wasn't focused on getting my body in proportion, I don't know how I would get out of bed every day, honestly. Actually, I know I wouldn't. That was me for the last X months before this, basically. Never again, never again.
Friday, July 15, 2011
3 Square Meals? Um, No Thanks!
I've replaced meal time with working out: about 1.5 hours in the morning, 2.5 hours in the afternoon, and another hour at night. I'm so exhausted from walking, sweating, crunching, hopping around from this part of the gym to that and back again to keep from getting bored/going bonkers that when I'm *not* in that shitty hell hole, all I can think about is resting or what errands I should have done but didn't do. Then I'm running around, trying to make up for lost time/get to some place before it closes, and whoops! There goes the chance to eat. Aww, damn! I really wanted to shove unwanted calories in my gullet and cry about it for the next 12 hours! Phooey.
The day goes by so much quicker when my main focus is to get the scale to show a lower number than the previous day, and to have that number keep showing up whether it's on this side of the room or that. On this scale or that one or the one over there. Whether I weigh now or in 5 minutes. Then I know I really did a good enough job to let myself hydrate and relax until basketball before the dungeon closes. If not, well that means I better check Twatter, see the lazy bums still whining about their 3500 calorie day and how they're so far away from their goals, and go back in the steam room/treadmill/whatever torture device I can get to and sweat out my inadequacy.
See, I'm so tired of excuses. I was always like this, even when I was younger. I hate people who complain but never tried to change whatever was making them unhappy. It's like, if your shoes hurt your feet, why for godssake do you keep wearing them?? Why not get another pair/style? Heck, why not go barefoot? But to continue to wear shoes that are uncomfortable, but stupidly complain about it is the same to me as not changing your eating habits, not doing any exercise, and really not doing anything about the fat that's making you miserable. It's all relatively simple: stop eating, start moving, watch things change. Stick with it, don't get lazy, see results come to fruition.
So, that's why I stepped up my workouts. Once a day, 4 miles was good, but then it wasn't enough. Twice a day, 4 miles and adding the steam room was better, but how long until I taper off? So, here I am, three times a day, making sure to sweat buckets every time, and still steadily losing. I've already decided to join classes when I'm past 120, so I can keep things interesting and stay motivated. I want to have solid legs, not smaller ones that still sway with a breeze or jiggle when I run or spread like fat in a bag when I sit. I don't want an athlete's body at all, (because I'm not a fucking athlete, stop asking!), I want someone to look at me and go, "Damn, that's a skinny bitch," and not have any mother fucker be able to say anything otherwise. Unarguable frailty. Let the outside match the inside, I'm tired of this fat covering that lets every idiot think they can treat me like an impenetrable elephant.
Oh, and wouldn't you know it? My period came back to spit on my grave this afternoon. Just when I thought that shit had packed up and left town, it just rained on my parade and tried to stick me one last time. That's cool, bitch. Do what you gotta do. I get it that nobody ever likes your ass when you roll through, and you're generally hated by bajillions, from little girls to older ladies. I feel your pain (every 27 days) but you *will* be out of my life soon enough. I don't care where the fuck you take you go but you can't come back to visit me again! Don't even send postcards. I will celebrate (new white skirt?) when the time comes that you should be here and you wind up missing. Who said being tight with Ana doesn't do a body good? Probably a fattie with a light period, hmph.
The day goes by so much quicker when my main focus is to get the scale to show a lower number than the previous day, and to have that number keep showing up whether it's on this side of the room or that. On this scale or that one or the one over there. Whether I weigh now or in 5 minutes. Then I know I really did a good enough job to let myself hydrate and relax until basketball before the dungeon closes. If not, well that means I better check Twatter, see the lazy bums still whining about their 3500 calorie day and how they're so far away from their goals, and go back in the steam room/treadmill/whatever torture device I can get to and sweat out my inadequacy.
See, I'm so tired of excuses. I was always like this, even when I was younger. I hate people who complain but never tried to change whatever was making them unhappy. It's like, if your shoes hurt your feet, why for godssake do you keep wearing them?? Why not get another pair/style? Heck, why not go barefoot? But to continue to wear shoes that are uncomfortable, but stupidly complain about it is the same to me as not changing your eating habits, not doing any exercise, and really not doing anything about the fat that's making you miserable. It's all relatively simple: stop eating, start moving, watch things change. Stick with it, don't get lazy, see results come to fruition.
So, that's why I stepped up my workouts. Once a day, 4 miles was good, but then it wasn't enough. Twice a day, 4 miles and adding the steam room was better, but how long until I taper off? So, here I am, three times a day, making sure to sweat buckets every time, and still steadily losing. I've already decided to join classes when I'm past 120, so I can keep things interesting and stay motivated. I want to have solid legs, not smaller ones that still sway with a breeze or jiggle when I run or spread like fat in a bag when I sit. I don't want an athlete's body at all, (because I'm not a fucking athlete, stop asking!), I want someone to look at me and go, "Damn, that's a skinny bitch," and not have any mother fucker be able to say anything otherwise. Unarguable frailty. Let the outside match the inside, I'm tired of this fat covering that lets every idiot think they can treat me like an impenetrable elephant.
Oh, and wouldn't you know it? My period came back to spit on my grave this afternoon. Just when I thought that shit had packed up and left town, it just rained on my parade and tried to stick me one last time. That's cool, bitch. Do what you gotta do. I get it that nobody ever likes your ass when you roll through, and you're generally hated by bajillions, from little girls to older ladies. I feel your pain (every 27 days) but you *will* be out of my life soon enough. I don't care where the fuck you take you go but you can't come back to visit me again! Don't even send postcards. I will celebrate (new white skirt?) when the time comes that you should be here and you wind up missing. Who said being tight with Ana doesn't do a body good? Probably a fattie with a light period, hmph.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
No Excuses, No Fat, No Mercy
Today was great, from start to finish. Weight loss wise, that is. I mean, what else really matter to me right now, duh, right? Anyways, why did it go so well? I got my ass up before 7 AM and ran - yes, *ran* for a straight mile and then power walked for 2 more. I popped that out in 30 minutes and then crunched myself into another dimension, and steamed myself back to reality all before 9 AM. Drove H.W.S.N.N. to work, turned around, and did it all over again. I was just so pumped to be going back for a 2nd round when I usually would just be waking up again and checking Twatter, feeling crappy for sleeping in and fucking up. But here I was, walking to Timbuktu and feeling *good* it was like some natural high that all those doctor's talk about (although I don't think they quite meant for you to get it like this...)
I was right smack at 124.0 and if I wanted to, I could've seen 123 today but I figured I'd let myself have something to look forward to tomorrow - who wants to see the same # 2 days in a row? Not me! I feel like a failure if the scale doesn't change from day to day. Like, really now. What am I doing if I'm not losing weight? Waiting for it to just fall off when it's ready? Pft. I took a break last weekend and we saw how that turned out (please, see last entry) so I'll never slack off again. Not until I'm 100 lbs (hahhahahahahha) which is quite a while's away.
Earlier, I saw someone ask "why are we doing this to ourselves??" and I thought, what a stupid fucking question. Because it makes us have something to work hard for, to look forward to, to strive towards, to gain order and control in a chaotic, messed up, superficial, stupid world. Because someone, sometime, somewhere made us feel inadequate, slighted, less than worthy of attention or affection (whether purposefully or not) and here we are, trying to make up for it in our own sad way, knowing that it's unhealthy or leading to our demise, but still showing dedication rivaling that of any other person who's determined to succeed in achieving some perfection.
It's like, bitch, really, if you have to ask then you obviously are just going through some bored phase during the summer months, realizing your thighs still rub together but unwillingly to do a damn thing about it. Please, stop following me and filling my timeline with your shit about ringdings and ho-hos. I hate those fatties that go on and on about all the food they ate and how they aren't losing weight. Every time, I vow to block them but forget which whale it was that ruined my afternoon with her binge pics/descriptions, and she stays safe for another day. That'll all change when I get my new laptop and I can be on all day, looking at thinspo in my new place and avoiding food like the hobos outside my door. I can't wait!
Oh yes, this took me a good like, eternity to write because this mofo wouldn't stop talking to me about all sorts of random shit. I hope it makes sense. I wanted to write about staying focused, making up for lost time, yakking up my 1 meal of the day (and getting sick of it, but not enough to ever stop or get lazy and not get it all out), the cunts at the gym following me around and judging my neuorsis, and best of all, legit thigh gaps AND kicking my period's ass and finally getting rid of it, but it was hard enough to end this coherently, let alone talk about all that stuff. Until tomorrow, then! At least I wrote something. I'm going to fudge the time so it shows up for Thursday, shh~
I was right smack at 124.0 and if I wanted to, I could've seen 123 today but I figured I'd let myself have something to look forward to tomorrow - who wants to see the same # 2 days in a row? Not me! I feel like a failure if the scale doesn't change from day to day. Like, really now. What am I doing if I'm not losing weight? Waiting for it to just fall off when it's ready? Pft. I took a break last weekend and we saw how that turned out (please, see last entry) so I'll never slack off again. Not until I'm 100 lbs (hahhahahahahha) which is quite a while's away.
Earlier, I saw someone ask "why are we doing this to ourselves??" and I thought, what a stupid fucking question. Because it makes us have something to work hard for, to look forward to, to strive towards, to gain order and control in a chaotic, messed up, superficial, stupid world. Because someone, sometime, somewhere made us feel inadequate, slighted, less than worthy of attention or affection (whether purposefully or not) and here we are, trying to make up for it in our own sad way, knowing that it's unhealthy or leading to our demise, but still showing dedication rivaling that of any other person who's determined to succeed in achieving some perfection.
It's like, bitch, really, if you have to ask then you obviously are just going through some bored phase during the summer months, realizing your thighs still rub together but unwillingly to do a damn thing about it. Please, stop following me and filling my timeline with your shit about ringdings and ho-hos. I hate those fatties that go on and on about all the food they ate and how they aren't losing weight. Every time, I vow to block them but forget which whale it was that ruined my afternoon with her binge pics/descriptions, and she stays safe for another day. That'll all change when I get my new laptop and I can be on all day, looking at thinspo in my new place and avoiding food like the hobos outside my door. I can't wait!
Oh yes, this took me a good like, eternity to write because this mofo wouldn't stop talking to me about all sorts of random shit. I hope it makes sense. I wanted to write about staying focused, making up for lost time, yakking up my 1 meal of the day (and getting sick of it, but not enough to ever stop or get lazy and not get it all out), the cunts at the gym following me around and judging my neuorsis, and best of all, legit thigh gaps AND kicking my period's ass and finally getting rid of it, but it was hard enough to end this coherently, let alone talk about all that stuff. Until tomorrow, then! At least I wrote something. I'm going to fudge the time so it shows up for Thursday, shh~
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Can't Slack Off/Relax...Not Now
Just wrote 2 paragraphs chronicling my failures and weak moments over the past weekend, and I guess even Blogger didn't want to see that shit get posted, because my computer had to be re-booted. Anyway, all I did was bla bla bla about how it was stupid to try and lie to myself that it's ok to drink energy drinks like a fish and not work out, but stand around like a lazy asshole and sleep all day instead of going to do cardio and walking at least 5 miles. Wrong! Obviously! I retained all that water and ballooned up like a goddam blimp. Coupled with my evil, pointless period, I was sucking up and retaining every little bit of moisture in the air possible. Disgusting!
Sooo, I went all the way up to 129 I think on Monday, sweated down to 127 or so, then 128 yesterday and sweated down to 126, then 127 maybe (I tend to block out the first number after it shocks me awake pre-gym) and back down to 125 today. Oh lord. I played a solid 40 minutes of basketball tonight (I stuffed, trash-talked, and played *hard* D - 'not in MY house, fool! - the whole time) and really felt good. I pushed through 600 vertical and cross crunches, 8 push ups (forgot to do the 2nd half, must do some before bed, now that I remember), and 2 sets of 10 inner thigh crunches or whatever their fancy name is called.
Ok, so here's my regular couple of sentences devoted to how much I hate my thighs. Seriously now, I am soooo over them! They have passed the point of being the freak that keeps showing up to the events with all the funny, interesting, likable people, that just shows up and kills the mood. Nobody wants to be around, see, or even acknowledge them, and yet, there they are...time after time. They are so unsightly and just in the way - like, gawd! Just fucking go back to where you came from! Why are you still here? No, no really. Get the fuck out of here. Security?!? I have ribs ready to take out an eye, a clavicle you can pick your teeth with, and thighs that you can use as flotation devices in the event of an emergency. *Hums "One of These Things is Not Like the Other"* How annoying. Just why, oh, why can't I look even and balanced? Plus, my hair's becoming a flat, smooshed mess because of all the steam room time I spend lying on my back. I have to find new positions, but that's the most comfortable one and allows me to stay in there for the longest. I can deal with a lopsided 'fro for now if it means more weight loss - I already look like a fat, ugly mess, who the hell is noticing my hair when my thighs are flapping around making babies cry and old ladies faint?
Anyway, I really need a new computer, and already decided I wouldn't get one until I'm out of the 120s. Well guess what? This chick is sick of worrying about her adapter becoming unplugged because her shit would shut down immediately or the fact that her monitor is hanging on to the keyboard by a wish and a dream and little else. It's time to get serious and fucking drop 6 pounds by Monday and start the week off with a new set of #s and a new goddam laptop. A'int no ifs, ands, or big butts about it! I want a new toy to play with and cheer me up! 5 days, 5 pounds. I must do this. I have to make up for lost time.
Sooo, I went all the way up to 129 I think on Monday, sweated down to 127 or so, then 128 yesterday and sweated down to 126, then 127 maybe (I tend to block out the first number after it shocks me awake pre-gym) and back down to 125 today. Oh lord. I played a solid 40 minutes of basketball tonight (I stuffed, trash-talked, and played *hard* D - 'not in MY house, fool! - the whole time) and really felt good. I pushed through 600 vertical and cross crunches, 8 push ups (forgot to do the 2nd half, must do some before bed, now that I remember), and 2 sets of 10 inner thigh crunches or whatever their fancy name is called.
Ok, so here's my regular couple of sentences devoted to how much I hate my thighs. Seriously now, I am soooo over them! They have passed the point of being the freak that keeps showing up to the events with all the funny, interesting, likable people, that just shows up and kills the mood. Nobody wants to be around, see, or even acknowledge them, and yet, there they are...time after time. They are so unsightly and just in the way - like, gawd! Just fucking go back to where you came from! Why are you still here? No, no really. Get the fuck out of here. Security?!? I have ribs ready to take out an eye, a clavicle you can pick your teeth with, and thighs that you can use as flotation devices in the event of an emergency. *Hums "One of These Things is Not Like the Other"* How annoying. Just why, oh, why can't I look even and balanced? Plus, my hair's becoming a flat, smooshed mess because of all the steam room time I spend lying on my back. I have to find new positions, but that's the most comfortable one and allows me to stay in there for the longest. I can deal with a lopsided 'fro for now if it means more weight loss - I already look like a fat, ugly mess, who the hell is noticing my hair when my thighs are flapping around making babies cry and old ladies faint?
Anyway, I really need a new computer, and already decided I wouldn't get one until I'm out of the 120s. Well guess what? This chick is sick of worrying about her adapter becoming unplugged because her shit would shut down immediately or the fact that her monitor is hanging on to the keyboard by a wish and a dream and little else. It's time to get serious and fucking drop 6 pounds by Monday and start the week off with a new set of #s and a new goddam laptop. A'int no ifs, ands, or big butts about it! I want a new toy to play with and cheer me up! 5 days, 5 pounds. I must do this. I have to make up for lost time.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Hot Sauce + Dairy = Trouble
Went to Denny's yesterday with H.W.S.N.N. It was his first time (natch) and he ordered 2 separate breakfast meals. No surprise there, he's a real fat ass at heart and so am I, no wonder we were drawn to each other (at first anyway). I of course basically did the same. I won't go into details so I don't trigger any of you poor souls into late-night Julia Child's style binging, but it was serious. I even got iced coffee - 'For energy at the gym after!' - to round things out. Biiiiiiiiiig fucking mistake. Second mistake? Dousing everything in some bootleg hot sauce like I was 15 again!
I used to eat food so spicy when I was younger, I would just numb my tongue into oblivion. And not the kind of hot that is like, one green pepper seed in a vat of stew. I know how some people are (Like, omigawd! I'm on fiyah!). No, I'm talking about, Shit, is that another ulcer forming? Why couldn't I have asked for mild this time? I was raised with heat all around. I think my mother would give me chili peppers to suck on instead of a bottle, if my memory serves me correctly...spicy has always been my pal.
Until yesterday. The combination of this no-name tobasco sauce that was probably first bottled in the '70s, coupled with the probably whole fatty-fat milk in my iced coffee (or the more "conservative" half and half, hah. Half fat mixed with no fat is still fat, dummies!) made for a slow-acting laxative. H.W.S.N.N. has finally realized that I'm serious about disappearing and has taken to sitting in booths with me and blocking me in so I can't purge while he's paying the bill. Well, the anxiety of feeling all that goddamm Denny's traveling through my system into my intestines where I'd be too late to hurl them out must have light the match that ignited my bowels because I could hardly make it 5 mins down the road to the bathroom in his office.
After doing damage there, we went to the gym and I couldn't even whoop his ass on the basketball courts because I was still feeling weak from taking a semi-legit crap, the first in 2 weeks. So, instead, I masked my ED cold sweat by punishing myself in the steam room. As *soon* as I got out, back to the toilets! Oh gawd, it was horrible. I really thought I was going to be found dead and naked in that crummy gym's bathroom. What a fitting end. Just the thought of the indignity of it all gave me enough energy to shuffle my droopy ass out to the showers and fling on my clothes.
That night was tough. I was empty and tired and knew I had work early this morning full of standing and smiling and general fake fucking positivity (that shit takes energy!) so I forced H.W.S.N.N. to drag his ass to 7-11 and get me juice and chips. Yes, I said it: FOOD. I drank all 16 oz of that shit (so sweet!) and ate most of those goddamm oily pieces of regret. I fell into a tormented sleep but managed to stay conked out until dawn. Usually I wake up in the middle of the night (either I was socked in the face or the neighbors are high and fighting/roaming the streets) so I took this as a sign of extreme exhaustion after trying to digest all that crap.
Anyway, I was late for the gig today, as usual, and I just walked in like nothing was amiss. If you don't make a big deal then chances are other people won't either. Unless they are some nosy, stick-in-the-mud pricks that are out to ruin your day. Luckily, that was not the case. I immediately cracked open what I *thought* was my new best friend (but like all "good" friends, I was betrayed) those sexist, pink Rock* energy drinks and had about 5 sips before I started feeling doped up. Like, I was on Twatter, posting a new message every 15 seconds kind of feeling. I had to check the ingredients (is there smack in here?) and then check my pulse. It was a weird, uneasy feeling. I didn't finish the can and just had ice water. Passed out in my car during my extended break and somehow managed the day without incident.
Had Japanese food, too much as usual. Purged it, but maybe not thoroughly enough. Felt fat, weak, and disgruntled, so I again skipped basketball - I'm glossing over this because I'm so mad at myself for being weak - and went straight to the steam room (my sanctuary) for 30 minutes. The experience was nearly ruined by a gassy lady that kept farting or queefing or SOMETHING for the .2 seconds she lasted. Thank god she was too frail to stay in there for any longer. She looked like she was a few sweat drops away from dying herself. Should have asked her for some advice now that I think of it...
Anyway, here I am. Bought some liquid Hello Pussy sugary shit drink from the Japanese convenience store (why is it pink *and* slightly bitter???) that disappointed me. Also got some other shit I shouldn't have, but I won't go into details so no one's triggered. I'm not proud of eating, but I don't want to make a fucking scene this weekend by hitting concrete 'cos my body decided to peace out on me. I'm sure no one would try and break my fall but everyone would have their cameras out and I'd be on YouTube before my head even touched the ground. At least let me be underweight by then so I look lovely while I'm out! Right? Right?? The camera adds 15, not 10 lbs, for my unlucky self.
I used to eat food so spicy when I was younger, I would just numb my tongue into oblivion. And not the kind of hot that is like, one green pepper seed in a vat of stew. I know how some people are (Like, omigawd! I'm on fiyah!). No, I'm talking about, Shit, is that another ulcer forming? Why couldn't I have asked for mild this time? I was raised with heat all around. I think my mother would give me chili peppers to suck on instead of a bottle, if my memory serves me correctly...spicy has always been my pal.
Until yesterday. The combination of this no-name tobasco sauce that was probably first bottled in the '70s, coupled with the probably whole fatty-fat milk in my iced coffee (or the more "conservative" half and half, hah. Half fat mixed with no fat is still fat, dummies!) made for a slow-acting laxative. H.W.S.N.N. has finally realized that I'm serious about disappearing and has taken to sitting in booths with me and blocking me in so I can't purge while he's paying the bill. Well, the anxiety of feeling all that goddamm Denny's traveling through my system into my intestines where I'd be too late to hurl them out must have light the match that ignited my bowels because I could hardly make it 5 mins down the road to the bathroom in his office.
After doing damage there, we went to the gym and I couldn't even whoop his ass on the basketball courts because I was still feeling weak from taking a semi-legit crap, the first in 2 weeks. So, instead, I masked my ED cold sweat by punishing myself in the steam room. As *soon* as I got out, back to the toilets! Oh gawd, it was horrible. I really thought I was going to be found dead and naked in that crummy gym's bathroom. What a fitting end. Just the thought of the indignity of it all gave me enough energy to shuffle my droopy ass out to the showers and fling on my clothes.
That night was tough. I was empty and tired and knew I had work early this morning full of standing and smiling and general fake fucking positivity (that shit takes energy!) so I forced H.W.S.N.N. to drag his ass to 7-11 and get me juice and chips. Yes, I said it: FOOD. I drank all 16 oz of that shit (so sweet!) and ate most of those goddamm oily pieces of regret. I fell into a tormented sleep but managed to stay conked out until dawn. Usually I wake up in the middle of the night (either I was socked in the face or the neighbors are high and fighting/roaming the streets) so I took this as a sign of extreme exhaustion after trying to digest all that crap.
Anyway, I was late for the gig today, as usual, and I just walked in like nothing was amiss. If you don't make a big deal then chances are other people won't either. Unless they are some nosy, stick-in-the-mud pricks that are out to ruin your day. Luckily, that was not the case. I immediately cracked open what I *thought* was my new best friend (but like all "good" friends, I was betrayed) those sexist, pink Rock* energy drinks and had about 5 sips before I started feeling doped up. Like, I was on Twatter, posting a new message every 15 seconds kind of feeling. I had to check the ingredients (is there smack in here?) and then check my pulse. It was a weird, uneasy feeling. I didn't finish the can and just had ice water. Passed out in my car during my extended break and somehow managed the day without incident.
Had Japanese food, too much as usual. Purged it, but maybe not thoroughly enough. Felt fat, weak, and disgruntled, so I again skipped basketball - I'm glossing over this because I'm so mad at myself for being weak - and went straight to the steam room (my sanctuary) for 30 minutes. The experience was nearly ruined by a gassy lady that kept farting or queefing or SOMETHING for the .2 seconds she lasted. Thank god she was too frail to stay in there for any longer. She looked like she was a few sweat drops away from dying herself. Should have asked her for some advice now that I think of it...
Anyway, here I am. Bought some liquid Hello Pussy sugary shit drink from the Japanese convenience store (why is it pink *and* slightly bitter???) that disappointed me. Also got some other shit I shouldn't have, but I won't go into details so no one's triggered. I'm not proud of eating, but I don't want to make a fucking scene this weekend by hitting concrete 'cos my body decided to peace out on me. I'm sure no one would try and break my fall but everyone would have their cameras out and I'd be on YouTube before my head even touched the ground. At least let me be underweight by then so I look lovely while I'm out! Right? Right?? The camera adds 15, not 10 lbs, for my unlucky self.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
I Like Having Ultimate Control
I've had so many people use me for their own greed and goals and then toss me like an empty carton to the side and never think twice about me ever again. I can't control them, I can't make them not be an asshole or a bitch or a vapid, slobbering cunt monster only out to make themselves happy. But what I can take charge of is my body. While I'm struggling with it's shape and certain parts - I'm looking at you, Thunder Thighs - overall, it has shrunk in the last 5 weeks. I'm a small on top and bottom, but barely. I don't want to feel like I'm one breath away from bursting out of my clothes, so I push myself just a little harder and walk just a little further to make sure I can go to sleep at night and truthfully said I did everything I could during the day to get a step closer to being dainty.
I met this old dude today at Starbucks - really just a waste of my time. He had crater/pockmarked skin, thinning (teased) hair, was barely my height (I was wearing flip flops for chrissake), and was aggressively in my face with questions. I tried to feign politeness but I was just thinking the whole time, I ended my steam time early for this clown? The only thing worth remembering about the whole sordid affair was that the first thing out of his mouth was: you lost weight! And you look much younger, like you're in high school. Now, at my ripe old age of 24, I don't give two hoots about looking younger. I just want to be treated with some care and respect. I have always had dark circles under my eyes (oh, genetics, how you hate me) so I don't think I ever looked the right age. I think my tired-ass face coupled with my height has always made me appear to be older when I was younger, and now that I'm well into adulthood, hah, and shrinking down to the body or a teenager, I guess I do appear younger.
What it really is my lack of boobs, let's be honest. I've recently stocked up on all those tops that have the built-in bras, so they nicely mask the fact that I have nothing on my chest other than skin and nipples. I've never had cleavage, don't even know what the word means. I'm ok with that, because it allows me to buy smaller tops and never look like a skany whore in low-cut blouses. That's ok, I guess. I wish the fat would start coming from my thighs, but they are just so goddam stubborn! The new underwear I loaded up on is actually too big - once I put a pair on, they start to stretch and bunch and they are hanging on. Gross. I'll have to just suck it up until they start falling off though, because I don't know if I can exchange them. Who does that anyway? Return underwear? Yuck! If I wait until I really lose, maybe I can get down to a size 3.
Anyway, nosy bitches are looking over my shoulder and pretending to be cleaning up or whatever, so I guess I'll end this here. Haven't eaten yet today and really don't feel like it, knowing I'm going to have to yak it all up right after anyway. But I know I will feel even more exhausted come tomorrow morning, and I need above all to keep my spirits up and energy pumping enough to keep the scale moving in my favor. That fasting shit just isn't an option now - it makes you weak, which makes you start craving crazy shit, and the body has a way of over-ruling even the most determined mind. The last thing I need is to eat like a cow and then gain 6 pounds and feel miserable and know I set myself back 1/2 a month because I really wanted some fucking fried rice. Um, no, I'll pass, thanks.
I met this old dude today at Starbucks - really just a waste of my time. He had crater/pockmarked skin, thinning (teased) hair, was barely my height (I was wearing flip flops for chrissake), and was aggressively in my face with questions. I tried to feign politeness but I was just thinking the whole time, I ended my steam time early for this clown? The only thing worth remembering about the whole sordid affair was that the first thing out of his mouth was: you lost weight! And you look much younger, like you're in high school. Now, at my ripe old age of 24, I don't give two hoots about looking younger. I just want to be treated with some care and respect. I have always had dark circles under my eyes (oh, genetics, how you hate me) so I don't think I ever looked the right age. I think my tired-ass face coupled with my height has always made me appear to be older when I was younger, and now that I'm well into adulthood, hah, and shrinking down to the body or a teenager, I guess I do appear younger.
What it really is my lack of boobs, let's be honest. I've recently stocked up on all those tops that have the built-in bras, so they nicely mask the fact that I have nothing on my chest other than skin and nipples. I've never had cleavage, don't even know what the word means. I'm ok with that, because it allows me to buy smaller tops and never look like a skany whore in low-cut blouses. That's ok, I guess. I wish the fat would start coming from my thighs, but they are just so goddam stubborn! The new underwear I loaded up on is actually too big - once I put a pair on, they start to stretch and bunch and they are hanging on. Gross. I'll have to just suck it up until they start falling off though, because I don't know if I can exchange them. Who does that anyway? Return underwear? Yuck! If I wait until I really lose, maybe I can get down to a size 3.
Anyway, nosy bitches are looking over my shoulder and pretending to be cleaning up or whatever, so I guess I'll end this here. Haven't eaten yet today and really don't feel like it, knowing I'm going to have to yak it all up right after anyway. But I know I will feel even more exhausted come tomorrow morning, and I need above all to keep my spirits up and energy pumping enough to keep the scale moving in my favor. That fasting shit just isn't an option now - it makes you weak, which makes you start craving crazy shit, and the body has a way of over-ruling even the most determined mind. The last thing I need is to eat like a cow and then gain 6 pounds and feel miserable and know I set myself back 1/2 a month because I really wanted some fucking fried rice. Um, no, I'll pass, thanks.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Stay Strong, Stay Thin
This has become my new mantra of sorts. It used to be "Fuck the rest, just do your best," but that wasn't enough. This is also simple and catchy and really does keep me going if I feel like walking a little less or maybe even not working out at all. Fat people stay fat because they are weak. They most likely want to lose the weight, but don't know where to start (just put one foot in front of the other...) and are scared to even begin because of failure. Don't they realize, if you just don't even allow yourself to think of not reaching your goal, then you have no choice but to keep your lard ass going forward?
That's basically how I was for most of my life. I didn't realize that I didn't have to be *healthy* and skinny. Who the fuck really cares or is gonna stop me now that I'm an adult? Nobody, that's who. I'm literally wasting away in front of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and all he can do is shake his head and say he's not happy about it all. Oh well, I'm not happy with you using me and treating me like a whore, but that didn't stop you from being a dick, did it, hmm? No? Ok, I'll keep doing what I'm doing and you keep doing what your doing, alrighty then?
I have no room for weakness in my life anymore. If I don't get as skinny as I want to be, it is entirely my fault. There is no one forcing me to eat or forcing me to not stay in the gym until the scale moves. The scale doesn't lie (all the time). If you sweat enough and don't put anything in your body, you *will* lose. There's no way to magically get heavier just from breathing air, I mean shit. On the same token, I know I'm not going get as thin as I want from moping in bed and not forcing myself to sweat out the fat, the frustrations, the feelings of bigness and failure. So, I push harder, and walk further, I sit in the steam room for longer. There's no excuse for anyone to be doing more than me unless they have more determination. And I'm pretty damn set on knowing what it feels like to have small thighs and to not have them touch.
I went clothes shopping over the weekend and fit in things ranging from a size 4 to a size 7, from a small to a medium and still even a large. What the fuck? Goddamn all you stupid gay designers that know nothing about a woman's body other than your men loving asses shot out of them and started hating them since birth, apparently. It gets my goat how these so-called talented designers refuse to actually design for real women's bodies and keep using these damn pre-pubescent little girls who have no hips, no ass, no nuthin' to make the clothes look like they are on living things and not lifeless mannequins. How hard is it to make a hanger look good, anyway? And you know they've straight up starting using men in women's fashion now??? Like, not even transexuals or women with all the goodies - straight up men with long hair and a bit of blush. Well fuck that, where's the logic in having a dude walk down the runway in a skirt and telling me to buy it because it's haute?
Almighty Scale, let me get super skinny so I can be successful then blow the roof of this whole goddamn industry and tell them a piece of my mind! I'll lie about my age if I have to and maybe even feign interest in whatever fat, balding executive if it will guarantee me some TV/magazine/interview time to point out the sheer lunacy of it all. My old (ha) ass is nearing model retirement age anyway, so it's not like I'd be throwing away a possible future of many years of catwalk delight. Just the thought of getting a chance to say "fuck you" to a lot of the assholes that make a normal-sized gal like I used to be feel like a fat monster keeps me strong and working towards thin. How silly is that?
That's basically how I was for most of my life. I didn't realize that I didn't have to be *healthy* and skinny. Who the fuck really cares or is gonna stop me now that I'm an adult? Nobody, that's who. I'm literally wasting away in front of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and all he can do is shake his head and say he's not happy about it all. Oh well, I'm not happy with you using me and treating me like a whore, but that didn't stop you from being a dick, did it, hmm? No? Ok, I'll keep doing what I'm doing and you keep doing what your doing, alrighty then?
I have no room for weakness in my life anymore. If I don't get as skinny as I want to be, it is entirely my fault. There is no one forcing me to eat or forcing me to not stay in the gym until the scale moves. The scale doesn't lie (all the time). If you sweat enough and don't put anything in your body, you *will* lose. There's no way to magically get heavier just from breathing air, I mean shit. On the same token, I know I'm not going get as thin as I want from moping in bed and not forcing myself to sweat out the fat, the frustrations, the feelings of bigness and failure. So, I push harder, and walk further, I sit in the steam room for longer. There's no excuse for anyone to be doing more than me unless they have more determination. And I'm pretty damn set on knowing what it feels like to have small thighs and to not have them touch.
I went clothes shopping over the weekend and fit in things ranging from a size 4 to a size 7, from a small to a medium and still even a large. What the fuck? Goddamn all you stupid gay designers that know nothing about a woman's body other than your men loving asses shot out of them and started hating them since birth, apparently. It gets my goat how these so-called talented designers refuse to actually design for real women's bodies and keep using these damn pre-pubescent little girls who have no hips, no ass, no nuthin' to make the clothes look like they are on living things and not lifeless mannequins. How hard is it to make a hanger look good, anyway? And you know they've straight up starting using men in women's fashion now??? Like, not even transexuals or women with all the goodies - straight up men with long hair and a bit of blush. Well fuck that, where's the logic in having a dude walk down the runway in a skirt and telling me to buy it because it's haute?
Almighty Scale, let me get super skinny so I can be successful then blow the roof of this whole goddamn industry and tell them a piece of my mind! I'll lie about my age if I have to and maybe even feign interest in whatever fat, balding executive if it will guarantee me some TV/magazine/interview time to point out the sheer lunacy of it all. My old (ha) ass is nearing model retirement age anyway, so it's not like I'd be throwing away a possible future of many years of catwalk delight. Just the thought of getting a chance to say "fuck you" to a lot of the assholes that make a normal-sized gal like I used to be feel like a fat monster keeps me strong and working towards thin. How silly is that?
Friday, July 1, 2011
July's Here! Skinny or Die (or Both)
June was about re-training my mind to stop looking for food every 2 hours when I was bored or doing something monotonous to pass the time and keep my hands and mouth busy. Wrong, wrong, wrong. What I needed to be doing was getting my ass up and doing jumping jacks or running up and down stairs or something. Anyway, that's in the past because I caved in and wasted money that could be going to some bills on a lousy membership to this lousy sports "club" (read: safe haven for the out of shape and elderly).
I haven't been getting up as early as I'd like to walk my 5 miles before driving the SO off to his office and heading back to sweat out some more (it's been more like wake up too late, feel guilty, stay in bed for an hour longer than I should, then go to the steam room, will myself lighter, weigh in, feel the heavy shame of failure, then put in a couple of defeated hours of poor cardio before I weigh in again and again and again). I absolutely don't care what any of the staff thinks that I'm in there for 4 hours at a time, weighing in on my scale and the gym's scale too. One manager is pregnant (but not really) and ready to explode fat everywhere, and the rest of the staff is lumpy, stumpy, and rounder than a doughnut. The cleaning staff too! (Do they get free memberships?) So if they think I'm neurotic or obsessed, they are right and get a gold star for seeing the obvious.
I haven't made an effort to write on here because after reaching my GW of 130, I foolishly ate like it was going out of style and apparently was lazy with my purge. I gained 2 pounds back (this is after throwing up enough to still feed a family of 4) and was so dejected. Instead of not eating anything the next day, what did I do? Binge and repeat, of course! I was hovering around 132 and going bonkers. I had to gain control of the situation and last night ate very little, but made sure to purge, purge, purge. Took another 5 fiber pills (apparently 1 dose does jack) and finally shat out the saddest little shit ever (TMI, sorry). Whatever, I woke up to 131.8 today and after wasting the afternoon in the gym, the scale did its usual cunty shit and bounced betweene 129.8 and 130.0 so I'll just go with 129 to make myself feel better. Yes I'm a cheater.
I'm also a big fat loser because I'm heading *back* to the gym to play basketball with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. I'm not going to be all lazy tonight either - I'm kicking ass and taking names and I will sit in that goddam steam room for another 30 minutes even if I want to scream and cry and drink up the entire Pacific Ocean. I can't keep setting myself up for failure - if I'm not fainting, I'm not in trouble and I can push a little harder. Because of my freaking Invisalign, I don't think I'll be able to do the lemonade cleanse until the end of the year, but that's ok, by then I'll be so skinny (wishful thinking) that I'll need drastic measures to keep from eating. I'm strong enough to keep eating and puking, so by golly I'll keep going until I choke. Just gotta limit it to once a day and no breads/rice/noodles/carbs/greasy shit because that stuff is such a bitch coming back up!
Oh, one other annoying thing: I don't even begin to fill out my 34B anymore...and it was already a stretch back when I was chubby. I wanted to go shopping today for probably a 32A, but first thing's first! Gotta round out my nights with some bball to get a full body workout and kick my ass in gear. I can always make myself cry with my flat chest tomorrow, what's the rush, right? Sadly, my thighs are still like 2 large loaves of bread. Refusing to give up any of the fat they are so desperately clinging to. That's fine, though. I will break them down in the end, they can't stay jiggly forever!
I haven't been getting up as early as I'd like to walk my 5 miles before driving the SO off to his office and heading back to sweat out some more (it's been more like wake up too late, feel guilty, stay in bed for an hour longer than I should, then go to the steam room, will myself lighter, weigh in, feel the heavy shame of failure, then put in a couple of defeated hours of poor cardio before I weigh in again and again and again). I absolutely don't care what any of the staff thinks that I'm in there for 4 hours at a time, weighing in on my scale and the gym's scale too. One manager is pregnant (but not really) and ready to explode fat everywhere, and the rest of the staff is lumpy, stumpy, and rounder than a doughnut. The cleaning staff too! (Do they get free memberships?) So if they think I'm neurotic or obsessed, they are right and get a gold star for seeing the obvious.
I haven't made an effort to write on here because after reaching my GW of 130, I foolishly ate like it was going out of style and apparently was lazy with my purge. I gained 2 pounds back (this is after throwing up enough to still feed a family of 4) and was so dejected. Instead of not eating anything the next day, what did I do? Binge and repeat, of course! I was hovering around 132 and going bonkers. I had to gain control of the situation and last night ate very little, but made sure to purge, purge, purge. Took another 5 fiber pills (apparently 1 dose does jack) and finally shat out the saddest little shit ever (TMI, sorry). Whatever, I woke up to 131.8 today and after wasting the afternoon in the gym, the scale did its usual cunty shit and bounced betweene 129.8 and 130.0 so I'll just go with 129 to make myself feel better. Yes I'm a cheater.
I'm also a big fat loser because I'm heading *back* to the gym to play basketball with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. I'm not going to be all lazy tonight either - I'm kicking ass and taking names and I will sit in that goddam steam room for another 30 minutes even if I want to scream and cry and drink up the entire Pacific Ocean. I can't keep setting myself up for failure - if I'm not fainting, I'm not in trouble and I can push a little harder. Because of my freaking Invisalign, I don't think I'll be able to do the lemonade cleanse until the end of the year, but that's ok, by then I'll be so skinny (wishful thinking) that I'll need drastic measures to keep from eating. I'm strong enough to keep eating and puking, so by golly I'll keep going until I choke. Just gotta limit it to once a day and no breads/rice/noodles/carbs/greasy shit because that stuff is such a bitch coming back up!
Oh, one other annoying thing: I don't even begin to fill out my 34B anymore...and it was already a stretch back when I was chubby. I wanted to go shopping today for probably a 32A, but first thing's first! Gotta round out my nights with some bball to get a full body workout and kick my ass in gear. I can always make myself cry with my flat chest tomorrow, what's the rush, right? Sadly, my thighs are still like 2 large loaves of bread. Refusing to give up any of the fat they are so desperately clinging to. That's fine, though. I will break them down in the end, they can't stay jiggly forever!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Snap Out of It & Get Back on Track!
Totally slipped into some depressed funk towards the end of last week - what a blur. I got a gig doing beauty promo work and just fumbled my way through the weekend. It was a welcome distraction to the the pathetic excuse of a "relationship" that I'm suffering through, but I had to have a bottle of crappy Coke during the second day, just so I wouldn't fall over. Of course, I had my nightly meal that I purged right after, but at least my nose didn't bleed.
Only problem was, the shitty gym I was going to has shortened hours over the weekend, so I couldn't work out before/after the gig for 3 whole days. Of course, the Almighty Scale was being a cunty dick, and throwing up random numbers just to kill my spirit. Somehow, I'm still 132 despite no extra physical activity since Thursday. I really really wanted to get down to 130 by the end of the month, and I still have 3 days, technically. This morning, I was 132.4, and normally after a work out, I go down at least a pound.
Yesterday during a little basketball 1 on 1 with The Cheater, I was so dizzy I had to sit down. I had jumped rope and done 5 min of the stairmaster like it was going out of style, and then the added stress of trying to defend this 200 lb trainwreck was a little too much, I guess. At least I stepped foot inside that shithole. I'm waiting for my car to finish being worked on while it rains, and then I'm going to spend at least 2 hours today sweating my sorrow and fat out. Have another gig for tomorrow and Thursday and I really need to go all out.
If only I could lose 5 pounds from each thigh and another 5 from my fat ass, I would be so much happier. That's the only place that I really have any fat to spare. Maybe 2.5 from my stomach...anyway, June was purge month, July will be liquid cleanse month. I'm tired of wasting money on food.
Only problem was, the shitty gym I was going to has shortened hours over the weekend, so I couldn't work out before/after the gig for 3 whole days. Of course, the Almighty Scale was being a cunty dick, and throwing up random numbers just to kill my spirit. Somehow, I'm still 132 despite no extra physical activity since Thursday. I really really wanted to get down to 130 by the end of the month, and I still have 3 days, technically. This morning, I was 132.4, and normally after a work out, I go down at least a pound.
Yesterday during a little basketball 1 on 1 with The Cheater, I was so dizzy I had to sit down. I had jumped rope and done 5 min of the stairmaster like it was going out of style, and then the added stress of trying to defend this 200 lb trainwreck was a little too much, I guess. At least I stepped foot inside that shithole. I'm waiting for my car to finish being worked on while it rains, and then I'm going to spend at least 2 hours today sweating my sorrow and fat out. Have another gig for tomorrow and Thursday and I really need to go all out.
If only I could lose 5 pounds from each thigh and another 5 from my fat ass, I would be so much happier. That's the only place that I really have any fat to spare. Maybe 2.5 from my stomach...anyway, June was purge month, July will be liquid cleanse month. I'm tired of wasting money on food.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Just Going through the Motions
Another day, another heartache, another meal, another purge.
I haven't lost anything in 2 days, but I haven't dragged myself to the gym either.
The only way I've maintained my weight is by crying and going to this beauty gig. Isn't that funny? I'm hired to look pretty and speak about the benefits of some shallack that doesn't do shit for your skin - if your skin is sagging, spolotchy, oily, nasty, and gross, no, spending $$$ on this shit will not make you look any better. There, I said it. - and I'm so ugly and pathetic on the inside. Not much on the outside either.
Let me please just get down to 130 by the end of the month. That will be pounds down and let's just say half way. I was going to be happy with 120 but it's not enough. I want to keep going until I can't anymore. Go big or go home, right? Or should I say small or go cry? Hah.
I haven't lost anything in 2 days, but I haven't dragged myself to the gym either.
The only way I've maintained my weight is by crying and going to this beauty gig. Isn't that funny? I'm hired to look pretty and speak about the benefits of some shallack that doesn't do shit for your skin - if your skin is sagging, spolotchy, oily, nasty, and gross, no, spending $$$ on this shit will not make you look any better. There, I said it. - and I'm so ugly and pathetic on the inside. Not much on the outside either.
Let me please just get down to 130 by the end of the month. That will be pounds down and let's just say half way. I was going to be happy with 120 but it's not enough. I want to keep going until I can't anymore. Go big or go home, right? Or should I say small or go cry? Hah.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Feeling Worn Out & Doubtful
It's late, but I wanted to update a little something.
My nose has been bleeding a lot in the last day or two. I think it's unrelated to all the purging - I've had bad nosebleeds since I was really young. Usually because of extreme heat, cold, dry air, pollen and my allergies acting up, or general stress. Well, it's been unusually hot all of a sudden with the air reeking of whatever has been shedding from the trees. I'm sure I'll get over it. I haven't stopped purging and don't plan on stopping until I'm out of the 130s, thank-you-very-much.
Anyway, I don't trust the scale anymore and I'll just chalk that up to another one of my flaws/paranoias/ridiculous shortcomings. Fucking thing loves to dance through every number possible before arbitrarily settling on whatever it feels like for the day, and rarely is it the number I want. I haven't done crunches in 2 days and my flabby, fatty fat lower abdomen isn't hiding the fact for me at all. It's so gross - the way it just sits there. Solid fat. Sticking out and ruining my shape.
If I kind of make my legs tight (flex a little) I have a thigh gap when my feet are together, but I feel like that's cheating. Plus, the meat on my thighs still hangs there like some treat for a pack of hungry wolves, so what does it matter? I'm going to have to start doing something to tone them, but god, I know they will just balloon up and negate all of my hard work. My jeans still aren't baggy or loose and I'm really bummed about that. I was hoping to get some new (smaller) clothes, but I might as well just tattoo a fucking "L" on my ass and be done with it.
When will I ever ever ever get to feel whispy and waifish? Seems like just a wild, sad dream. I'll probably die before I ever get to know the feeling.
My nose has been bleeding a lot in the last day or two. I think it's unrelated to all the purging - I've had bad nosebleeds since I was really young. Usually because of extreme heat, cold, dry air, pollen and my allergies acting up, or general stress. Well, it's been unusually hot all of a sudden with the air reeking of whatever has been shedding from the trees. I'm sure I'll get over it. I haven't stopped purging and don't plan on stopping until I'm out of the 130s, thank-you-very-much.
Anyway, I don't trust the scale anymore and I'll just chalk that up to another one of my flaws/paranoias/ridiculous shortcomings. Fucking thing loves to dance through every number possible before arbitrarily settling on whatever it feels like for the day, and rarely is it the number I want. I haven't done crunches in 2 days and my flabby, fatty fat lower abdomen isn't hiding the fact for me at all. It's so gross - the way it just sits there. Solid fat. Sticking out and ruining my shape.
If I kind of make my legs tight (flex a little) I have a thigh gap when my feet are together, but I feel like that's cheating. Plus, the meat on my thighs still hangs there like some treat for a pack of hungry wolves, so what does it matter? I'm going to have to start doing something to tone them, but god, I know they will just balloon up and negate all of my hard work. My jeans still aren't baggy or loose and I'm really bummed about that. I was hoping to get some new (smaller) clothes, but I might as well just tattoo a fucking "L" on my ass and be done with it.
When will I ever ever ever get to feel whispy and waifish? Seems like just a wild, sad dream. I'll probably die before I ever get to know the feeling.
Monday, June 20, 2011
I'll Probably Never be Satisfied
I really realized that today. Just when I thought I safely passed my first goal weight, the scale jumps around from 134.0 to 134.4 to 134.6 to 135.2 to 136.4 back down to 134.4 (hm, yes, I was OCD and moved it around a millimeter to the left, right, up, down, and everywhere in between). Like, what the fuck, yo? I'm so determined to get down to 130 by Friday for this promo gig I have, I even bit the bullet and signed up for a 7 day trial at this craptacular gym that the significant other swears up and down by like it's the best thing since fucking 0 calorie sparkling water.
So I spend over 2 hours there, sweating and dying and slagging off the water weight and I stupidly weigh myself on the gym's scale first - yes, I brought 1 (of course I have more than 1) with me as a back up for consistency's sake - and what does it say? That I'm 136 lbs!!! What the fuck! And it's one of those old type scales you see in a doctor's office, so it's got to be right, right? Of course I check on my glass scale and it says 135.2 That's what I weighed yesterday, so I'm beyond bummed. I woke up 136.6 and just worked my heart out to get under 135.
Well, not one to give up easily, especially since I dragged my ass into that fucking gym in first place, I went to the steam room and nearly melted the fuck away. Oh my god! I've never been in something so hot before! I know I'm pretty dehydrated and already sweat more than usual on the little stairmaster thingymabob with my 3 long-sleeved layers on, so imagine my surprise when I was literally covered in sweat from head to toe. Like, I've never seen so much liquid come out of me before at one time, ever! Not even to pee!
Thankfully, I weighed myself again and saw 134.4 come up several times, so I settled with that number. I didn't do any crunches or push ups yet, and that's usually when I sweat out another 1/2 pound of water weight, but I'm planning on going back tonight to play some basketball and give that sweat box room another go. I absolutely hate gyms - watching other fat people sit on a bike for all of 3 minutes, give up, stretch (as if they did anything) and leave or watching scrawny old people with 1 foot in the grave bundled up in their windbreakers and sweatpants walking faster than I am, looking like they're about to keel over at any minute and just die - and I'm still panting next to them thinking about how I wish my thighs were smaller like granny's next to me. Sick, right?
Anyway, I just totally fucked up and ordered a medium, iced, soy green tea latte so there goes my no calories for the day! I'm a total fattie at heart, just masquerading in this skinnier woman's body. I feel full and guilty and gross. If I could purge out liquids I would, but it seems kind of stupid and beyond ridiculous, so I'll just wait to pee it out later, I guess. I need to hydrate before bball anyway. Can't work out if you're too sick to function, right? I'm thinking about being a real pig and getting 1/2 hot sandwich from this place called Togos. I *despise* sandwiches but this place puts dirty ol' Subway to shame and it's sooo yummy (had a bite from the SOs over the weekend and nearly died). Yes, it's about 500 calories but who cares when it's going to wind up going down the drain anyway, right?
I wonder how long I can keep this eat and purge once a day routine up...until I get down to 120 I guess. Every time I feel like stopping, I see a ridiculously overweight person and vow never to be like him/her. Or I see a very petite woman and promise that will be me in just a few months. And goddamm it I'm sick of things not going my way. I'm not giving up on this. This is for *me* and I will know what it feels like to be small and light! I won't feel guilty asking for a piggy back ride and I won't feel stupid to even think about getting one in the first place.
So I spend over 2 hours there, sweating and dying and slagging off the water weight and I stupidly weigh myself on the gym's scale first - yes, I brought 1 (of course I have more than 1) with me as a back up for consistency's sake - and what does it say? That I'm 136 lbs!!! What the fuck! And it's one of those old type scales you see in a doctor's office, so it's got to be right, right? Of course I check on my glass scale and it says 135.2 That's what I weighed yesterday, so I'm beyond bummed. I woke up 136.6 and just worked my heart out to get under 135.
Well, not one to give up easily, especially since I dragged my ass into that fucking gym in first place, I went to the steam room and nearly melted the fuck away. Oh my god! I've never been in something so hot before! I know I'm pretty dehydrated and already sweat more than usual on the little stairmaster thingymabob with my 3 long-sleeved layers on, so imagine my surprise when I was literally covered in sweat from head to toe. Like, I've never seen so much liquid come out of me before at one time, ever! Not even to pee!
Thankfully, I weighed myself again and saw 134.4 come up several times, so I settled with that number. I didn't do any crunches or push ups yet, and that's usually when I sweat out another 1/2 pound of water weight, but I'm planning on going back tonight to play some basketball and give that sweat box room another go. I absolutely hate gyms - watching other fat people sit on a bike for all of 3 minutes, give up, stretch (as if they did anything) and leave or watching scrawny old people with 1 foot in the grave bundled up in their windbreakers and sweatpants walking faster than I am, looking like they're about to keel over at any minute and just die - and I'm still panting next to them thinking about how I wish my thighs were smaller like granny's next to me. Sick, right?
Anyway, I just totally fucked up and ordered a medium, iced, soy green tea latte so there goes my no calories for the day! I'm a total fattie at heart, just masquerading in this skinnier woman's body. I feel full and guilty and gross. If I could purge out liquids I would, but it seems kind of stupid and beyond ridiculous, so I'll just wait to pee it out later, I guess. I need to hydrate before bball anyway. Can't work out if you're too sick to function, right? I'm thinking about being a real pig and getting 1/2 hot sandwich from this place called Togos. I *despise* sandwiches but this place puts dirty ol' Subway to shame and it's sooo yummy (had a bite from the SOs over the weekend and nearly died). Yes, it's about 500 calories but who cares when it's going to wind up going down the drain anyway, right?
I wonder how long I can keep this eat and purge once a day routine up...until I get down to 120 I guess. Every time I feel like stopping, I see a ridiculously overweight person and vow never to be like him/her. Or I see a very petite woman and promise that will be me in just a few months. And goddamm it I'm sick of things not going my way. I'm not giving up on this. This is for *me* and I will know what it feels like to be small and light! I won't feel guilty asking for a piggy back ride and I won't feel stupid to even think about getting one in the first place.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Feel Like I Still Look the Same
I know I'm down to 136.6 since the beginning of the month, but I feel like you really can't tell. Actually, I *know* you really can't tell. I'm still as wide as I was before, still have a pooch at my lower abdomen, still don't feel like my shirts fit any looser or that my pants look any different. Where is this supposed weight coming from/going? How much do I need to lose until I finally feel like I'm really...feminine? Like, I could actually be swept off my feet and not how I am now? Too large and heavy and ungainly for anyone but the World's Strongest Man to attempt to pick up?
While digging through my computer, I happened upon some pictures of myself in a bikini from last year was it? I was so disgusting. I barely recognize myself - my face just looked like a puffed up mess. And the thighs! Oh those goddamm thighs from hell. They seriously look like hamhocks. How the fuck did I stand myself? I feel embarrassed even seeing these pictures months later, say nothing of when they were current and I was that much heavier. Looking at my fat little self and remembering how much bigger I've always felt throughout life is totally motivation to not slip up, to not miss a moment to purge or to walk just a little bit more and try a little bit harder to shed these pounds.
I can't ever let myself get fat again and go back to how I was. I must must must not let myself down and keep this up. It's getting easier as time goes by. I binge less often and can only eat so much until I seriously feel full enough to vomit without any help. I mean, of course I have to wiggle my finger a little bit but it comes out so easily and forcefully I can't help but feel relieved and, well *good* that I got that shit out. Best of all, my stomach is still expanded and feels full, even though there's nothing really in there.
Anyway, last night, I went out to two clubs in an attempt to finally dance off some more calories and keep myself on track. The first one was jam-packed full of short, obese women. It was weird. I stood out because I am tall and obviously under 200 pounds (no exaggeration) but I felt weird. None of them were dancing anyway, so I went to another club. I fucking hate that other one - better music, but *full* of tiny, little, Asian-looking women. Wearing tube tops for dresses and heels to make their legs look longer and leaner, and they still don't even come up to my shoulders. Flipping their fucking hair and shaking their no asses and lapping up all the attention. Loud and boisterous and falling all over the place, bursting with the knowledge that they are envied and desired and loving every minute.
Meanwhile, I'm as tall as all the other midget men in this town, ignored and feeling out of place. Approached only by the crazy, cock-eyed bathroom attendant who would probably have tried to dance with the potted plant if it was on wheels. Of course I wanted to binge when I got back to the room (bought some funky, flat "cracker" things that are really just over-priced pressed styrofoam for the weight-conscious. 19 equal 1 serving for only 130 calories - how is that possible? What the heck?) but wouldn't you know it? The Laughing Cow cheese wedge I bought had something stuck in it. If that wasn't a sign from the universe telling me to roll my fat ass over and go to sleep, I don't know what would be. So that's exactly what I did - empty stomach, empty heart, full of self-loathing.
At least I woke up early enough to drag myself to walk and appease the Almighty Scale. I just have to stay strong!
While digging through my computer, I happened upon some pictures of myself in a bikini from last year was it? I was so disgusting. I barely recognize myself - my face just looked like a puffed up mess. And the thighs! Oh those goddamm thighs from hell. They seriously look like hamhocks. How the fuck did I stand myself? I feel embarrassed even seeing these pictures months later, say nothing of when they were current and I was that much heavier. Looking at my fat little self and remembering how much bigger I've always felt throughout life is totally motivation to not slip up, to not miss a moment to purge or to walk just a little bit more and try a little bit harder to shed these pounds.
I can't ever let myself get fat again and go back to how I was. I must must must not let myself down and keep this up. It's getting easier as time goes by. I binge less often and can only eat so much until I seriously feel full enough to vomit without any help. I mean, of course I have to wiggle my finger a little bit but it comes out so easily and forcefully I can't help but feel relieved and, well *good* that I got that shit out. Best of all, my stomach is still expanded and feels full, even though there's nothing really in there.
Anyway, last night, I went out to two clubs in an attempt to finally dance off some more calories and keep myself on track. The first one was jam-packed full of short, obese women. It was weird. I stood out because I am tall and obviously under 200 pounds (no exaggeration) but I felt weird. None of them were dancing anyway, so I went to another club. I fucking hate that other one - better music, but *full* of tiny, little, Asian-looking women. Wearing tube tops for dresses and heels to make their legs look longer and leaner, and they still don't even come up to my shoulders. Flipping their fucking hair and shaking their no asses and lapping up all the attention. Loud and boisterous and falling all over the place, bursting with the knowledge that they are envied and desired and loving every minute.
Meanwhile, I'm as tall as all the other midget men in this town, ignored and feeling out of place. Approached only by the crazy, cock-eyed bathroom attendant who would probably have tried to dance with the potted plant if it was on wheels. Of course I wanted to binge when I got back to the room (bought some funky, flat "cracker" things that are really just over-priced pressed styrofoam for the weight-conscious. 19 equal 1 serving for only 130 calories - how is that possible? What the heck?) but wouldn't you know it? The Laughing Cow cheese wedge I bought had something stuck in it. If that wasn't a sign from the universe telling me to roll my fat ass over and go to sleep, I don't know what would be. So that's exactly what I did - empty stomach, empty heart, full of self-loathing.
At least I woke up early enough to drag myself to walk and appease the Almighty Scale. I just have to stay strong!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
So Tired of Wasting $ on Food
Since all I do is throw it back up or feel guilty and disgusting about it for the rest of the day. I have bills to pay, dammit! Imagine how much money I'd save if I just stopped buying food that makes me hate myself - literally it would be hundreds of dollars a month.
I also feel so damn bad when I think about people who are starving to death and want desperately not to. Like, those poor souls who have no choice and would do anything for a hot meal and a full belly. I would carve off my fat and give it to them if I could. If I could give them food and take away my thoughts about eating, if there were some way to be rewarded for helping them out by having the self-control to just keep my mouth shut, I would in a heartbeat.
Anyway, after a small weight gain (.8 pounds) by foolishly thinking I could eat and still see the scale go down, I binged and purged my brain away yesterday, and walked 4.5 miles this morning before weigh in to get back on track. I'm headed in the right direction and just want so badly not to fuck it up. 137.4 goddamm, if I could just have sweat today and brought that down to solid 137. I would feel a little more comfortable. Problem is I barely perspired (should have ran, but I wouldn't have lasted) and I haven't taken a shit in a day or two.
I see some people sweat like they are being roasted alive and really wish I had that problem. It would be gross as all hell, but at least I'd be skinnier and it would be worth it. Instead, I'm here at Borders, wearing sneakers, long jeans, a shirt, and an over-sized sweatshirt and my toes are still cold and my fingers are getting there too. I hate being cold all the time.
My plans on dancing my fat away of course aren't working out because I have no one to go out with and who wants to be the fat, pathetic, desperate looking girl who shows up to a club all dressed up and by herself? The wolves will be on my like flies on shit, thinking I'm looking for a sugar daddy or a dick to fuck me (*yawn*) and any other people will think there's something wrong with me and avoid me like SARS. Nothing worse than going to a place and being ignored and watching all the other patrons enjoying themselves and having a good time while you're on your cell phone or by yourself. Lame.
I also feel so damn bad when I think about people who are starving to death and want desperately not to. Like, those poor souls who have no choice and would do anything for a hot meal and a full belly. I would carve off my fat and give it to them if I could. If I could give them food and take away my thoughts about eating, if there were some way to be rewarded for helping them out by having the self-control to just keep my mouth shut, I would in a heartbeat.
Anyway, after a small weight gain (.8 pounds) by foolishly thinking I could eat and still see the scale go down, I binged and purged my brain away yesterday, and walked 4.5 miles this morning before weigh in to get back on track. I'm headed in the right direction and just want so badly not to fuck it up. 137.4 goddamm, if I could just have sweat today and brought that down to solid 137. I would feel a little more comfortable. Problem is I barely perspired (should have ran, but I wouldn't have lasted) and I haven't taken a shit in a day or two.
I see some people sweat like they are being roasted alive and really wish I had that problem. It would be gross as all hell, but at least I'd be skinnier and it would be worth it. Instead, I'm here at Borders, wearing sneakers, long jeans, a shirt, and an over-sized sweatshirt and my toes are still cold and my fingers are getting there too. I hate being cold all the time.
My plans on dancing my fat away of course aren't working out because I have no one to go out with and who wants to be the fat, pathetic, desperate looking girl who shows up to a club all dressed up and by herself? The wolves will be on my like flies on shit, thinking I'm looking for a sugar daddy or a dick to fuck me (*yawn*) and any other people will think there's something wrong with me and avoid me like SARS. Nothing worse than going to a place and being ignored and watching all the other patrons enjoying themselves and having a good time while you're on your cell phone or by yourself. Lame.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Road Trip's Over + I'm Still on Track
Somehow managed the 2,000 mile drive from Middle-of-Nowhere, Missouri all the way out here to Civilization-and-Normalcy, California without any major incident. I *had* to break my fast with some restrictive eating but felt like a cheating failure every time.
I only ate twice a day and never finished anything...just a few bites here and there, no carbs and if I did have meat, I threw it up quickly after. I kept my liquid intake minimized as much as possible as well (so I wouldn't have to frequently stop to use the bathroom, but also so I wouldn't retain anything and feel bloated and disgusting). I cheated the last 150 miles and fucking got Burger King (haven't had it in over 6 months) in a foolish, backwards way of thinking that I'd be treating myself. After 2 bites - literally, the follow up bite that's supposed to confirm how delicious it was - I was sick. Just peeled of the burger and threw the rest away. Couldn't even look at the fries I used to love.
Just the fact that I had to eat disgusted me. I like to chew and swallow, physically the sensation is calming? soothing? relaxing?, but the guilty feeling that comes with it these days isn't worth it. All I can look forward to is the expected bowel movement that follows rather quickly afterwards. I feel lighter and happier that I expelled this bit of crap that wanted to make me fatter and keep me from my goals. I thought I'd replace solid foods with one or two cups (6-12 oz) of green tea latte or matcha drink mixes, but that shit has about 150 calories in it! Wtf is that!
I've got to stick to water while out and about. Sparkling water leaves this sticky, filmy feeling (reminds me of drinking Coke or some other crappy soda) on my teeth and will cloud my Invisalign over time. Not worth it. Now that I have my car, I plan on driving to the mountains or hilly areas to hike and kill hours of the day and really power my way through to 135. I want to get there before Monday, let's keep our fingers crossed. I would have been so disappointed and heartbroken if I had gone back up, and the fact that my careful planning and feeble attempt of self control (at least I didn't eat *all* the crap I ate, I did purge as much as I could, no sweets) did help keep my weight steady makes me feel better. Just stick with this and I *will* lose weight.
I'm just waiting to see the fat start to disappear. I want to look smaller and petite. Let me appear more "girly" for once and not feel like this towering linebacker. I want someone to be afraid to bump into me because I look so thin. Let people think twice about how they deal with me because they are afraid of damaging me. I'm tired of being seen as this tough, big, strong girl that can take anything and be walked all over and stepped on and just bounce back. Let me know how it feels to be handled with care, like something delicate that needs to be treasured.
I only ate twice a day and never finished anything...just a few bites here and there, no carbs and if I did have meat, I threw it up quickly after. I kept my liquid intake minimized as much as possible as well (so I wouldn't have to frequently stop to use the bathroom, but also so I wouldn't retain anything and feel bloated and disgusting). I cheated the last 150 miles and fucking got Burger King (haven't had it in over 6 months) in a foolish, backwards way of thinking that I'd be treating myself. After 2 bites - literally, the follow up bite that's supposed to confirm how delicious it was - I was sick. Just peeled of the burger and threw the rest away. Couldn't even look at the fries I used to love.
Just the fact that I had to eat disgusted me. I like to chew and swallow, physically the sensation is calming? soothing? relaxing?, but the guilty feeling that comes with it these days isn't worth it. All I can look forward to is the expected bowel movement that follows rather quickly afterwards. I feel lighter and happier that I expelled this bit of crap that wanted to make me fatter and keep me from my goals. I thought I'd replace solid foods with one or two cups (6-12 oz) of green tea latte or matcha drink mixes, but that shit has about 150 calories in it! Wtf is that!
I've got to stick to water while out and about. Sparkling water leaves this sticky, filmy feeling (reminds me of drinking Coke or some other crappy soda) on my teeth and will cloud my Invisalign over time. Not worth it. Now that I have my car, I plan on driving to the mountains or hilly areas to hike and kill hours of the day and really power my way through to 135. I want to get there before Monday, let's keep our fingers crossed. I would have been so disappointed and heartbroken if I had gone back up, and the fact that my careful planning and feeble attempt of self control (at least I didn't eat *all* the crap I ate, I did purge as much as I could, no sweets) did help keep my weight steady makes me feel better. Just stick with this and I *will* lose weight.
I'm just waiting to see the fat start to disappear. I want to look smaller and petite. Let me appear more "girly" for once and not feel like this towering linebacker. I want someone to be afraid to bump into me because I look so thin. Let people think twice about how they deal with me because they are afraid of damaging me. I'm tired of being seen as this tough, big, strong girl that can take anything and be walked all over and stepped on and just bounce back. Let me know how it feels to be handled with care, like something delicate that needs to be treasured.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Won't Let My Period Ruin Things
Don't people normally gain weight during their periods because of water retention etc? Well, I've got a way to combat that - just don't eat. No salt, no water, no nothing. I drastically cut down on everything going in. From multiple liters down to about half of one a day. Whatever I drank was peed out - I won't give my body the chance to hold on to anything and balloon up. I can't get bloated if I'm not putting anything in there to begin with, right?
This last week of daily purging was really tiring. It got me down to where I wanted in time, thanks be to the Almighty Scale, and now it's time to fast to keep it off and keep going. I haven't been under 140 in what feels like ages. At least 2 years, I think. My body is still revolting - flat stomach, protruding ribs, and fat thighs. What kind of hodgepodge of a woman is that? My legs refuse to budge - like Custer's Last Stand or something. Infuriating. We'll see who wins this war in the end.
I was so dizzy and my vision was impaired from the heat and my period coming suddenly that I stumbled and fell into a chair at the post office today. I had to sit down for a minute while I struggled with what felt like a head rush Xs 100. My back was pounding and I literally was in a fog - my sight, my hearing...moving my limbs was like, a completely foreign feeling. I never ever sweat, and here I was drenched and doubled over, shaking and terrified I couldn't get back to my apartment before I threw up or shat all over myself.
Of course, nobody cared. Nobody saw a girl literally wobbling and clutching the wall for support and thought to ask if I was feeling ok. Human beings are shameful, selfish slugs. Only care about themselves and how they can better themselves. If there's nothing in it for him, the average person won't even raise their head to check.
Anyway, I have a 2,000 mile journey ahead of me today, in my old Jag. Will it make it? Will I? It's been raining severely - which is fine as long as it cools down and doesn't turn even more humid. I don't know which would overheat faster, my body or my car. I want both of us to make it for 12 hours at least. But does anything ever turn out the way I want?
This last week of daily purging was really tiring. It got me down to where I wanted in time, thanks be to the Almighty Scale, and now it's time to fast to keep it off and keep going. I haven't been under 140 in what feels like ages. At least 2 years, I think. My body is still revolting - flat stomach, protruding ribs, and fat thighs. What kind of hodgepodge of a woman is that? My legs refuse to budge - like Custer's Last Stand or something. Infuriating. We'll see who wins this war in the end.
I was so dizzy and my vision was impaired from the heat and my period coming suddenly that I stumbled and fell into a chair at the post office today. I had to sit down for a minute while I struggled with what felt like a head rush Xs 100. My back was pounding and I literally was in a fog - my sight, my hearing...moving my limbs was like, a completely foreign feeling. I never ever sweat, and here I was drenched and doubled over, shaking and terrified I couldn't get back to my apartment before I threw up or shat all over myself.
Of course, nobody cared. Nobody saw a girl literally wobbling and clutching the wall for support and thought to ask if I was feeling ok. Human beings are shameful, selfish slugs. Only care about themselves and how they can better themselves. If there's nothing in it for him, the average person won't even raise their head to check.
Anyway, I have a 2,000 mile journey ahead of me today, in my old Jag. Will it make it? Will I? It's been raining severely - which is fine as long as it cools down and doesn't turn even more humid. I don't know which would overheat faster, my body or my car. I want both of us to make it for 12 hours at least. But does anything ever turn out the way I want?
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Road to Where I Am Now
I remember when I first purged consistently because of severe depression - about 5 years ago when I was alone in China and literally had no one around me who could understand what I was going through. I had always had weird eating habit and was generally unhappy but that winter was beyond control - and that's exactly how I got some by restricting and purging. I didn't even know about eating disorders beyond that sad white girls had them and I was obviously too fat and too brown to even have that cross my mind. I was just disgusted with food and tired of being so obviously bigger than everyone else.
I also hated the stares I would get on the street and the comments about my hair and skin. It was like all the behind-closed-doors judging - even racism to an extent - that I had been struggling with in America (subtle things like "I don't like black girls" to "You're OK for a black girl" to "Why's your hair like that?" to "You're not small but it's ok because you're tall") all that shit was just dumped on me out in the open. Shouted across the street on wide-grinning smiles and gap-toothed faces, with nudges and whispers, pointing and stares, crying children and parents that didn't even describe me as a person, just telling the children to look away. I was never warned or even mentally prepared for the excruciating zoo effect in that country and it triggered a downward spiral and self-realization that has changed my outlook on life and the way I see the world forever.
Yes, this was when I started to eat only plain egg-fried rice (really, the Chinese kind that is nothing but day-old white rice, egg, scallions, and a little oil) and drink strawberry milk. I left my apartment once a day, if even, would bring the food back to my room, eat alone and then violently vomit back out alone as well. If I lost weight, I don't know. I didn't have a scale and had limited contact with anyone. This was between semesters and I saw one old classmate several weeks after the 1st semester had ended in passing in the lobby of our hotel. I remember her saying "you lost so much weight!" but I don't remember ever looking or feeling noticeably thinner. I smiled a tight-lipped smile, hugged her petite self and returned to my room to cry or sleep. Probably both.
But that was a brief period of purging in my life. I came back to the States and started binge eating and felt serious guilt. Always under the recommended caloric amount but damn, I was such a fat pig anyway, did I need that much? I wasn't running marathons or on a sports team, I should be able to eat so much less, right? Why was I even eating at all? I could have a bowl of cereal all day and be good. Why eat any more? I had unknowingly been restricting all my life and now that I wasn't, I was out of whack. With my depression getting worse and being forced to take pills with a list of side-effects longer than the Illiyad, my weight went up. I was still "healthy" but was so disappointed that I was no longer comfortably underweight. Meanwhile, my depression had come to define me and I was losing control of my life...
Now I'm pretty much at rock bottom, I guess. My lifetime nemesis - the Thunder-Thigh Twins - have become unbearable. I can't wear anything without seeing them taunting me and ruining an outfit and protruding everywhere. They've cost me so many jobs that I wanted and ruin my chances at ever being small or light or slender. Each one alone has 5 pounds of fat and that seriously disgusts me. So, I began to purge again. This last week has been exhausting, a cycle of fasting, minimal eating, repetitive purging, and the weakness that follows. I've moved the scale enough to where I wanted to be, but of course it's not enough. I need to keep going because I'm too close to the edge - it can always creep back up and my hard work will be gone in an instant.
But really, the number doesn't matter. My thighs might never even shrink. I can only eat so little and purge so much and neither will undo the hurt and erase the pain. I can try an avoid triggering images and ignorant people and become asexual so the pain of rejection over things I can't control doesn't hurt as much but that leaves me very alone. These feelings are bound to me forever. Try as hard as I can I can't expel them from my mind and I know they've tainted my soul .
I also hated the stares I would get on the street and the comments about my hair and skin. It was like all the behind-closed-doors judging - even racism to an extent - that I had been struggling with in America (subtle things like "I don't like black girls" to "You're OK for a black girl" to "Why's your hair like that?" to "You're not small but it's ok because you're tall") all that shit was just dumped on me out in the open. Shouted across the street on wide-grinning smiles and gap-toothed faces, with nudges and whispers, pointing and stares, crying children and parents that didn't even describe me as a person, just telling the children to look away. I was never warned or even mentally prepared for the excruciating zoo effect in that country and it triggered a downward spiral and self-realization that has changed my outlook on life and the way I see the world forever.
Yes, this was when I started to eat only plain egg-fried rice (really, the Chinese kind that is nothing but day-old white rice, egg, scallions, and a little oil) and drink strawberry milk. I left my apartment once a day, if even, would bring the food back to my room, eat alone and then violently vomit back out alone as well. If I lost weight, I don't know. I didn't have a scale and had limited contact with anyone. This was between semesters and I saw one old classmate several weeks after the 1st semester had ended in passing in the lobby of our hotel. I remember her saying "you lost so much weight!" but I don't remember ever looking or feeling noticeably thinner. I smiled a tight-lipped smile, hugged her petite self and returned to my room to cry or sleep. Probably both.
But that was a brief period of purging in my life. I came back to the States and started binge eating and felt serious guilt. Always under the recommended caloric amount but damn, I was such a fat pig anyway, did I need that much? I wasn't running marathons or on a sports team, I should be able to eat so much less, right? Why was I even eating at all? I could have a bowl of cereal all day and be good. Why eat any more? I had unknowingly been restricting all my life and now that I wasn't, I was out of whack. With my depression getting worse and being forced to take pills with a list of side-effects longer than the Illiyad, my weight went up. I was still "healthy" but was so disappointed that I was no longer comfortably underweight. Meanwhile, my depression had come to define me and I was losing control of my life...
Now I'm pretty much at rock bottom, I guess. My lifetime nemesis - the Thunder-Thigh Twins - have become unbearable. I can't wear anything without seeing them taunting me and ruining an outfit and protruding everywhere. They've cost me so many jobs that I wanted and ruin my chances at ever being small or light or slender. Each one alone has 5 pounds of fat and that seriously disgusts me. So, I began to purge again. This last week has been exhausting, a cycle of fasting, minimal eating, repetitive purging, and the weakness that follows. I've moved the scale enough to where I wanted to be, but of course it's not enough. I need to keep going because I'm too close to the edge - it can always creep back up and my hard work will be gone in an instant.
But really, the number doesn't matter. My thighs might never even shrink. I can only eat so little and purge so much and neither will undo the hurt and erase the pain. I can try an avoid triggering images and ignorant people and become asexual so the pain of rejection over things I can't control doesn't hurt as much but that leaves me very alone. These feelings are bound to me forever. Try as hard as I can I can't expel them from my mind and I know they've tainted my soul .
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
I'm Just Going to Numb Myself
Not much to say today. I've officially entered the Fourth Ring of Hell with this nightmare situation (can't even call it a relationship) and have just given up and given in. I've let this boy rob me of my hope and I am tired of fighting for respect and trying to get him to change. I don't want to be totally disregarded like this anymore, but if I leave now without a steady job or place to go or emotional support I will be either pushed to living on the streets or pushed to...god knows where. I was sad and lonely but hopeful before him and now I'm just sad and broken. He of course doesn't care and has gotten what he wants out of me, so it's up to me to remove myself.
I lost 2 pounds in 1 day so at least it's bringing me closer to my stupid goals. Just that much closer to literally becoming nothing but a memory. I bought binge food and could you believe I didn't even touch it? Just sitting in the freezer.
I'll do some crunches and fill myself with thinspo instead of eating and the inevitable purging. I die a little inside more and more each day, just waiting for my body to physically catch up and match. What's most sad is that I've let a stupid boy that doesn't deserve me ruin my life that was already headed for the shitter and taken his abuse and internalized it into an eating disorder that was laying wait beneath the surface. Who is he? Why did I let myself become so void of self-respect that I'd let anyone treat me this way?
Maybe I gave up long ago and have just been waiting for something to use as a scapegoat for a lifetime of frustration, rejections, and disappointment on. That's probably it. Had I ever received the affection that I looking for, I would have traveled along a different path, I'm sure. Even if that relationship was short-lived, if it was "normal" I would have had a taste of what I always wanted and a little more hope to keep going like everyone else. But instead I found him and have be dealing with this. So many days and nights of subtle digs that now have become brazen declarations of hate. Wow. You really think you can say all that and apologize a few hours later and that I'll forget?
Maybe the first, fourth, fourteenth time. But not the fortieth. So I give up. This is not what life should be. Let me change the scale because I cannot change anything else right now.
I lost 2 pounds in 1 day so at least it's bringing me closer to my stupid goals. Just that much closer to literally becoming nothing but a memory. I bought binge food and could you believe I didn't even touch it? Just sitting in the freezer.
I'll do some crunches and fill myself with thinspo instead of eating and the inevitable purging. I die a little inside more and more each day, just waiting for my body to physically catch up and match. What's most sad is that I've let a stupid boy that doesn't deserve me ruin my life that was already headed for the shitter and taken his abuse and internalized it into an eating disorder that was laying wait beneath the surface. Who is he? Why did I let myself become so void of self-respect that I'd let anyone treat me this way?
Maybe I gave up long ago and have just been waiting for something to use as a scapegoat for a lifetime of frustration, rejections, and disappointment on. That's probably it. Had I ever received the affection that I looking for, I would have traveled along a different path, I'm sure. Even if that relationship was short-lived, if it was "normal" I would have had a taste of what I always wanted and a little more hope to keep going like everyone else. But instead I found him and have be dealing with this. So many days and nights of subtle digs that now have become brazen declarations of hate. Wow. You really think you can say all that and apologize a few hours later and that I'll forget?
Maybe the first, fourth, fourteenth time. But not the fortieth. So I give up. This is not what life should be. Let me change the scale because I cannot change anything else right now.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
...Tell 'em that It's Human Nature
It's amazing how intelligent women wind up in toxic relationships with no-good assholes that use them, emotionally cripple them, and drain away any ounces of self-esteem that said women might have accumulated over a difficult lifetime. They are smart enough to tell their friends and family never to settle, to share sage advice when needed and offer support to be strong. Love yourself! Conquer the world! We are women!
Yadda, yadda, yadda. Then the door closes, the masks come down, and the insecurities fuck with their heads. What happened to that woman with the smile big enough to block out the sadness? Where did the lady I know who said she'd never let some asshole treat her like she's nothing? How is it so easy to tut-tut at another woman's weakness and then fall victim to the same abuse that she's going through?
For me, I know it was easy for me to tell other girls in my life (classmates, co-workers, broken souls that spilled their guts in despair) what to avoid, what to do, how to cope because I had never been in that situation. I'd never even had a real "relationship" with a boy - Romeo, asshole, stalker, anyone - to know what it's like, but I damn sure read those magazines and heard enough times to know what trite shit I should repeat to someone when the time called for it. Silly me. Always the one's who don't really know that will act like they do, because if they did, they would just offer a shoulder and and a napkin and let you cry.
Right now, I have two choices moving forward: get up, warm those fucking 90 calories of vegetables - despite not being hungry and knowing this is some comfort food - or stay strong and eat nothing so the Almighty Scale can be appeased and not go up in anger at my weakness. 90 calories all day isn't bad, but you know what? 0 calories is even better. I didn't even do anything to warrant me eating, who am I kidding?
My other choice: stay with this boy who has become progressively meaner and cruel, lashing out and stomping on my dignity over the years or the alternative of me drifting between Nowhere and Hell. I know I will have a fighting chance to work as a fit/print model if I can only slim down. When I was in NY I *just* missed so many gigs because of my size. If I can just keep trudging forward, losing weight, ignoring him, and getting smaller, I know I have a better chance than I did when I was bigger. I should have used the motivation of seeing those women with jacked-up faces and odd looks (but with slender frames and tiny measurements) getting more attention as motivation to work on my own body, but I didn't.
Damn, I wish I hadn't turned down modeling in boarding school. What did an education bring me but the knowledge to realize how ass-backwards and fucked up the world is and that there's really no point to anything but to struggle and die? Who knows where I'd be now if I had just listened to those scouts...I know where I'll be in 6 months if I can only just stay strong, stay focused, and keep pushing forward.
Yadda, yadda, yadda. Then the door closes, the masks come down, and the insecurities fuck with their heads. What happened to that woman with the smile big enough to block out the sadness? Where did the lady I know who said she'd never let some asshole treat her like she's nothing? How is it so easy to tut-tut at another woman's weakness and then fall victim to the same abuse that she's going through?
For me, I know it was easy for me to tell other girls in my life (classmates, co-workers, broken souls that spilled their guts in despair) what to avoid, what to do, how to cope because I had never been in that situation. I'd never even had a real "relationship" with a boy - Romeo, asshole, stalker, anyone - to know what it's like, but I damn sure read those magazines and heard enough times to know what trite shit I should repeat to someone when the time called for it. Silly me. Always the one's who don't really know that will act like they do, because if they did, they would just offer a shoulder and and a napkin and let you cry.
Right now, I have two choices moving forward: get up, warm those fucking 90 calories of vegetables - despite not being hungry and knowing this is some comfort food - or stay strong and eat nothing so the Almighty Scale can be appeased and not go up in anger at my weakness. 90 calories all day isn't bad, but you know what? 0 calories is even better. I didn't even do anything to warrant me eating, who am I kidding?
My other choice: stay with this boy who has become progressively meaner and cruel, lashing out and stomping on my dignity over the years or the alternative of me drifting between Nowhere and Hell. I know I will have a fighting chance to work as a fit/print model if I can only slim down. When I was in NY I *just* missed so many gigs because of my size. If I can just keep trudging forward, losing weight, ignoring him, and getting smaller, I know I have a better chance than I did when I was bigger. I should have used the motivation of seeing those women with jacked-up faces and odd looks (but with slender frames and tiny measurements) getting more attention as motivation to work on my own body, but I didn't.
Damn, I wish I hadn't turned down modeling in boarding school. What did an education bring me but the knowledge to realize how ass-backwards and fucked up the world is and that there's really no point to anything but to struggle and die? Who knows where I'd be now if I had just listened to those scouts...I know where I'll be in 6 months if I can only just stay strong, stay focused, and keep pushing forward.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Will Anyone Ever Care About Me?
I have been failing so long at everything that I've really wanted to achieve, I expect it now. Like, I would be genuinely shocked if the scale did move, if my hair didn't fall out, if I received genuine affection instead of gimme, gimme, gimme (your help, your sex, your energy). I am just a walking zombie. Smiling when it's called for, nodding and responding when necessary, willing myself to get through whatever small task as normally as possible. Still the same sweet, young lady with the melodic voice as ever, I guess.
How can nobody see the sadness in my eyes and the hurting that's in my heart? It's because no one cares, or not enough to notice or say anything at least. Human beings are twisted and warped, nasty little animals. Some delight in other's misfortune and suffering...wishing negativity and bad things to happen so they can feel a little better about themselves. Others simply can't be bothered to think of anyone but themselves and the object(s) of their attention.
When have I ever been on someone's mind, other than as a place to stick a throbbing organ or as a means to an end through my connections or help or what have you? I have no real friends who miss me if they haven't heard from me in days, weeks, months...years. No one to make sure I'm not crying at all hours of the day and night, lonely and hating who I am, the way I look, or what I've become. No one to call and say they miss me and really mean it. No guy who wants to know me and enjoys being with me because I'm interesting, and not because he's just trying to sleep with me and move on to the next one.
If these are supposed to be the best years of my life, why do they feel like the worst? If I was at least slender and willowy and was able to slide in and out of pants with ease, I could feel better. Like there was something about me that was undeniably lovely. I know I'm a big, jiggly mess of a thing. Fat thighs, fat butt. They attract the kind of lewd dogs that just want to hump you like an animal. If I were more "delicate" then I'd at least feel like I could be considered by guys who want to shower me with love and make me happy. Protect me and cherish me and treat me with warmth.
Will that ever happen? Can it ever happen? I'm afraid I know the truth: even if I get down to just a whisper of my current monstrous size, I still have my hair going against me and the fact that I'm the color that I am. There's never been anything wrong with me all along. Most of the girls I went to school with were nothing special, they were just not my shade. I should just join the bandwagon: bleach my skin, wear a wig, get breast implants, and watch my life change for the better. Why keep fighting it? This is what the world has confirmed that people like to see. Being thin is just part of the equation.
How can nobody see the sadness in my eyes and the hurting that's in my heart? It's because no one cares, or not enough to notice or say anything at least. Human beings are twisted and warped, nasty little animals. Some delight in other's misfortune and suffering...wishing negativity and bad things to happen so they can feel a little better about themselves. Others simply can't be bothered to think of anyone but themselves and the object(s) of their attention.
When have I ever been on someone's mind, other than as a place to stick a throbbing organ or as a means to an end through my connections or help or what have you? I have no real friends who miss me if they haven't heard from me in days, weeks, months...years. No one to make sure I'm not crying at all hours of the day and night, lonely and hating who I am, the way I look, or what I've become. No one to call and say they miss me and really mean it. No guy who wants to know me and enjoys being with me because I'm interesting, and not because he's just trying to sleep with me and move on to the next one.
If these are supposed to be the best years of my life, why do they feel like the worst? If I was at least slender and willowy and was able to slide in and out of pants with ease, I could feel better. Like there was something about me that was undeniably lovely. I know I'm a big, jiggly mess of a thing. Fat thighs, fat butt. They attract the kind of lewd dogs that just want to hump you like an animal. If I were more "delicate" then I'd at least feel like I could be considered by guys who want to shower me with love and make me happy. Protect me and cherish me and treat me with warmth.
Will that ever happen? Can it ever happen? I'm afraid I know the truth: even if I get down to just a whisper of my current monstrous size, I still have my hair going against me and the fact that I'm the color that I am. There's never been anything wrong with me all along. Most of the girls I went to school with were nothing special, they were just not my shade. I should just join the bandwagon: bleach my skin, wear a wig, get breast implants, and watch my life change for the better. Why keep fighting it? This is what the world has confirmed that people like to see. Being thin is just part of the equation.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
One Small Victory, I Guess...
Today started out way too late. As usual, I woke up early (after about 4 hours of sleep) but couldn't will myself to get out of bed until I was so disgusted I couldn't lie there anymore. I figure, if I'm not awake then I'm not eating, so that's a good thing. But I realize that it's totally killed my metabolism and that's why the second *any* food enters my body, I balloon up several pounds. Thankfully, I'm down to 145 and stayed there all day.
Well, I thought about eating nonstop for a few hours and finally caved in and got a goddamn salad. Could it really even be considered a salad though? It was full of blue cheese, bacon bits, and 8 small cubes of steak. I loved and hated every bite. Actually, after the first few mouthfuls, I could have stopped and would have been OK. But as usual, once I started I had to finish.....everything.
I couldn't take the thought of all that I ate and how I didn't even like it, so I purged. So wasteful. But after the first little bit comes up and I see it collecting in the bowl, I feel so relieved. So happy that I was at least strong enough to get it out of me, although I was too weak to let it in me in the first place.
Anyway, what did I do just a few hours later? Had some cereal and purged again. But I didn't have any water this time and it was unpleasant coming up. I don't think I got all if it out and am unhappy about the thought of my weight going back up. Invisalign be damned, I'm going to alternate between tea and water every two hours for the next week and hopefully lose 10 pounds. If only I could go out dancing regularly, it's such a good work out for me.
The countdown is on until I head back to Cali...it's so cold there, but that's not so bad. I can wear clothes to hide my fat legs and stick to clear soups if I'm cold and really really hungry and thinking about food. Once I get to my first goal weight, I'll start planning to head to LA or San Fran so I can finally get serious about modelling again. That's my motivation right there and that's what's going to keep me going. I believe in the power of the Almighty Scale!
Well, I thought about eating nonstop for a few hours and finally caved in and got a goddamn salad. Could it really even be considered a salad though? It was full of blue cheese, bacon bits, and 8 small cubes of steak. I loved and hated every bite. Actually, after the first few mouthfuls, I could have stopped and would have been OK. But as usual, once I started I had to finish.....everything.
I couldn't take the thought of all that I ate and how I didn't even like it, so I purged. So wasteful. But after the first little bit comes up and I see it collecting in the bowl, I feel so relieved. So happy that I was at least strong enough to get it out of me, although I was too weak to let it in me in the first place.
Anyway, what did I do just a few hours later? Had some cereal and purged again. But I didn't have any water this time and it was unpleasant coming up. I don't think I got all if it out and am unhappy about the thought of my weight going back up. Invisalign be damned, I'm going to alternate between tea and water every two hours for the next week and hopefully lose 10 pounds. If only I could go out dancing regularly, it's such a good work out for me.
The countdown is on until I head back to Cali...it's so cold there, but that's not so bad. I can wear clothes to hide my fat legs and stick to clear soups if I'm cold and really really hungry and thinking about food. Once I get to my first goal weight, I'll start planning to head to LA or San Fran so I can finally get serious about modelling again. That's my motivation right there and that's what's going to keep me going. I believe in the power of the Almighty Scale!
Friday, June 3, 2011
Why Must I Eat Once It's Dark Out?
I think it's because I really really can't stand to eat with/around other people so I wait until I'm really alone and just go to town. I also don't like sleeping on an empty stomach, for some reason. I like the feeling of being full and drifting off to sleep. At the same time, I hate the feeling because with me, it's either all or nothing. I won't eat all day or I'll eat way too much.
Take the last 30 hours or so: Ate too much (well, wasn't hungry and ate an unnecessary 400 calories or so of food anyway) and then spent all of Friday drinking water only. Skipped weigh in because I felt disgusting, and knew that the scale would only make me feel worse. Plus, I knew I had an event that I was hired to model at tonight, and I have this fucking lower belly that seems more pronounced these days - am I retaining too much liquid?
Anyway, I just checked to see if I was lighter at all, and low and behold, after pissing the day away (literally) I am down 4 pounds from Thursday. Great, right? Of course not. I have a fucking sub laying about 10 feet away that I want to devour but I know the inevitable regret that will be waiting for me after I finish the last bite.
Why or why can't I just keep my mouth shut and stick to water? How am I going to lose weight and keep it off if I keep eating like a normal person?
Take the last 30 hours or so: Ate too much (well, wasn't hungry and ate an unnecessary 400 calories or so of food anyway) and then spent all of Friday drinking water only. Skipped weigh in because I felt disgusting, and knew that the scale would only make me feel worse. Plus, I knew I had an event that I was hired to model at tonight, and I have this fucking lower belly that seems more pronounced these days - am I retaining too much liquid?
Anyway, I just checked to see if I was lighter at all, and low and behold, after pissing the day away (literally) I am down 4 pounds from Thursday. Great, right? Of course not. I have a fucking sub laying about 10 feet away that I want to devour but I know the inevitable regret that will be waiting for me after I finish the last bite.
Why or why can't I just keep my mouth shut and stick to water? How am I going to lose weight and keep it off if I keep eating like a normal person?
Thursday, June 2, 2011
1XX Pounds of Self-Loathing
I'm tired of not liking what I see in the mirror.
My mind has an image of what I look like - bigger hair, thinner thighs, flatter stomach, brighter smile - but then I see my reflection and am honestly confused. Who is that huge monster looking back at me? Is this how others really see me?
The main thing that's bugged me is my proportions: my top does not match my bottom at all. Actually, the problem is really just the top of my thighs. They are too big for the rest of me.
I know some people would be content with my shape, but I am not. I can never get pants that fit properly...the waist will be too big if I want my legs to not look like sausage casings, or I'll feel like my thighs are about to explode if I want my pants to not fall down.
Anyway, I'm going to change this. I want to decrease the number on the scale as much as possible. Let me have some control in this stupid little world. I can do anything I put my mind to right?
My mind has an image of what I look like - bigger hair, thinner thighs, flatter stomach, brighter smile - but then I see my reflection and am honestly confused. Who is that huge monster looking back at me? Is this how others really see me?
The main thing that's bugged me is my proportions: my top does not match my bottom at all. Actually, the problem is really just the top of my thighs. They are too big for the rest of me.
I know some people would be content with my shape, but I am not. I can never get pants that fit properly...the waist will be too big if I want my legs to not look like sausage casings, or I'll feel like my thighs are about to explode if I want my pants to not fall down.
Anyway, I'm going to change this. I want to decrease the number on the scale as much as possible. Let me have some control in this stupid little world. I can do anything I put my mind to right?
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