Okay so the remainder of Saturday went great. Was ready to dive into a binge session because I was bored but then at the very same time saw a Wii Active commercial and took it as a sign. Went to my gym and did 25 minutes on the E, 30 minutes of power walking on the T and lifted weights for about another 15 minutes. After I work out I feel like my desire to binge is totally washed away, or at least for a couple of hours. However,
Yesterday was a disaster. I blame.....myself. A small part of me wants to blame me sis though. I explain:
SO I was awoken on Sunday by my sister coming home from her BF's. I passed out on the couch as usual. My meds had me really foggy feeling......and while trying to 'de-fog' my sister tells me to get dressed! We are going to Flattop for their B-fast Buffet! Yip-the fucking -yee. So I said "I can't, I'm broke and really can't spend any money on food when we have stuff at the house." PERFECT I think.
WRONG.......Sister offers to pay for me.......crap. She's already been making comments lately about how I always cook but never eat with her and lata lata. She never really says anything so I have noticed her concern lately. SO, I agree to go. B-fast is my favorite type of food and I ate a ridiculous amount. I puked once at the restaurant and again when i got home. I weighed in at 153 still. YES. Everything is okay.....even though I feel terrible for eating I am still 153. So I laid around the house all day in my pj's feeling depressed and fat and lonely as usual. I flipped through stupid re-runs on tv. I drank a Miller Chill and had 3 shots of Apple Vodka. I snorted a Seroquel. My nerves were starting to relax. THEN my sister gets home from work and tells me to, again, get dressed because we are going to her BF's for a BBQ. FUCK FUCK FUCK.
SO I roll out with her and roll back to the house at about 10pm. I managed to keep my eating minimal (only pasta salad and potato salad) and puked after I ate but I drank like 9 Corona's and beer makes me bloat up like a Fat Opera Singer. I came home and passed out before I could think of weighing in. I woke up this morning at.....159!!!! Hence "ARE YOU KIDDING ME??" I ate 4 laxatives with my coffee this morning and I have a full busy day so I am hoping when I get home I will be down to at least 155.
I'm so fucking depressed. I feel like I have really been trying and doing good for myself lately. Then I take a couple hours when I am actually trying to enjoy my life, enjoy people, and stop focusing off jumping off my balcony over calories and loneliness and it becomes a major set back. To me, it's not fucking fair at all. I wish weight loss was like getting your way when you were little.
Ana, if I throw myself on the ground and kick and scream will you let me loose some fucking weight? Oh...no....no.. u won't? Yeah, didn't fucking think so. Thanks for nothing..., again.
Going to wish for a meteor strike.....
Stay strong fatties.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I know exactly how you feel, unfortunatly it happens to me all the time. You make that choice to be social, that one choice to be with people instead of locking yourself away in your little world where dieting and losing weight are all that matters. A part of you wants to be free, wants to be social have friends and have a normal life. Then there's the other part that tells you that being thin is all that matters. And you have to choose. And that is (in my opinion) the most horrible thing about all this. Just some radnom thoughts from me. Hope you pull out of this soon though! Take care!
ReplyDelete