He’s been sniffing around today I can’t explain it, but my body feels tense and on edge. My mind feels useless and scatty. My future looks hopeless and worthless.
I hate when I feel like this. I want to buy pills, I’m toying with self harm. I’ve thrown up. I’m slipping somewhat and it scares me.
Just go to bed loopy. No buying pills, no self harm, no undoing the progress you’ve made lately.
Just go to bed!!
Last night after meds, I shovelled choclate and crisps into my gob. Previous meals, dinner and a supper scone had been purged, but damn it, I couldn’t throw up after meds as I wouldn’t sleep.
I feel utterly disgusted with myself and I’m desperate to burn.
I keep doing this; the nightime feasts. I wake up with wrappers on my bedside table, some of which I remember and some that I don’t.
It bugs me that they’ve literally just printed off a booklet from another health trust, and they’ve not even attempted to adapt it, or personalise it. I get that it might be a useful tool, but it feels like an after thought, something printed randomly from the web. Plagiarised!!!!!!
Putting that aside, I will complete it. I will attempt to log my feelings, eating habits and use of not so good weight control measures. I will try.
It’s all so blah!!!!! But at least I guess, it’s a start at helping me.
Those 3 little words bellowed continuously through the bathroom door. The handle squeeked and juddered as tiny hands kept twisting it. Toddlers are relentless!!!! Actually is he even classed as a toddler anymore? He’s 3, and a sturdy build at that.
I’d already locked it.
“Just go away, please please just go away.”
Fingers sticky with strands of stretchy saliva, eyes reds and puffy, and my stomach contracting, as hard as I could muster. It’s getting harder to throw up now. My gag reflex has almost gone completely, but I’ve not been to the gym today, and I can’t afford to absorb the calories and fat from those delicious hot dogs (OH lovingly prepared), that I ravenously consumed earlier.
I’m sorry little man. I’m sorry I can’t do better. I’m sorry for ignoring you and for wishing you’d go away. I’m sorry I’m such a crap mum.
The fatter I feel. I look down on my grotesque lump of a mid rift and I shudder. The number on the scale is going down excrutiatingly slowly, but I dont believe it anyway.
I’m fat, outta shape and ugly., and let’s be honest, I’m a drug addict.
I’m getting no help over here, and I have no one to talk too
I’m struggling to keep afloat. Today i purged at work, AT WORK and again after dinner at home. I then hit the gym already exhausted but the usuál mantra of run fatty run overode all my senses, so I ran.
!The crash is coming. I’m losing control. My chest is tight and I’m often oddly breathless.
I need help
A few days ago, I blamed this on drug withdrawal, but I was wrong. I’ve since recieved my correct meds, but the nausea has persisted.
My little jaunt to the gym today hasn’t helped I’ve not worked out in days, it was worrying me. So today, I pushed through the feelings of sickness, lightheadedness, and utter fatigue
JUST 10 MORE Kcal LOOPY, COME ON FATTTY; 10 MORE!!!! So 10 became 100, and then 150, and then 300. I was in no fit state for this, but in the war between my body, and my mind….my mind won out.
Now home, I’m wondering is it just a mundane bug that will run it’s course soon, or is it much more serious. I’m catastrophising, but I’m on a heck off a lot of pills; some prescribed, and some not Are my liver, pancreas or my kidneys crying out for help.
The scales, by the way have finally dipped below 57kg. 56.9 to be precise, but is this actually a win, or is my body slowly giving up.
It’s the new year and for many off us, that means RESOLUTIONS. Most of these will centre around health and fitness goals.
That can only mean one thing. Crowds of women flocking to gyms, squeezed into lycra. Don’t get me wrong, I admire their gusto. Today I sweat amongst them. But OH dear Lord!! I wish this lycra fad would end. I’m blind as a bat, but even my eyes gasped at the muffin tops and camel toes!!! I dread to think what someone with 20/20 vision would be subjected to.. Having said that, keep it up ladies, may 2020 bring you fitness and good health.
I’m starting the year at 59.15 kg. It’s a figure that does not sit well with me. I’m sporting muffin tops off my own. I feel grotesque. I can sense a working out frenzy coming. I don’t do things by half, it’s not in my black and white nature.
Let’s hope I can stay in control. Gym sessions, will at least, reduce my need to purge.