Just Stay Focused

...and try to be a little more positive and just a little lighter than the day before, and somehow the weeks fly by. Do I want my months to be a blur of weight loss and steam and pounds lost and gained? Not necessarily but you can't (or can you?) have it all. There are only so many hours in the day and between juggling work and my future and trying to safely and somewhat rationally get down to where I'd like to be in terms of weight, it doesn't leave much energy or time for me to do much else.

Anyway, I just wanted to jot down a little bit and thoughts on what's been going on. I'd like to keep things going nicely like this: wake up early, get a lot done, drink a little bit and restrict without going nuts, and just feel less like I'm being controlled by my ED and more like I have some say in what's going on in my life.

We'll see how long these good feelings last. I'm not trying to be skeptical or cynical, just practical.

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.

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...

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.

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~

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.