Paranoia

I received the greatest of all compliments a few days ago (Saturday, to be exact).  My mom told me that I was "getting really skinny".  Wow.  I almost can't believe it, even typing it now.  Unfortunately, as amazing as that felt, I am still waiting for the day that I'm actually really skinny.  Because if you think about it, she could simply, and probably is, be comparing me to the whale that I was before.  So instead of being a whale, I'm more like a dolphin or maybe a small porpoise...Either way, I'm still large.

Moving on, something has been troubling me a little lately, and that's my increasing paranoia.  Everyone, I'm sure (though I don't know) has moments where they are paranoid, but I wonder sometimes how much is truly normal.  I always assume that when something bad happens, it's my fault, or if people are speaking in hushed voices, it's because they're talking about me.  But I think that's normal.  What mildly concerns me is the intense anxiety that I feel when, say, I'm boiling something or watching this vacuum filtration system (if you know what that is...science shit) at work and imaging all the ways it's about to explode, splash all over me, shatter, and kill me.  I think the same thing when I'm in a car, driving over a bridge, on an airplane, etc.  I never used to have these little visions, but now I can't stop them.

Also, my dreams are always chaotic, creepy, and violent.  Flashes of horror cross my mind, and they don't go away no matter how hard I try to think of something else.  Eventually they fade and I fall asleep or else I am plagued by terrific nightmares the entire night.  I'm not sure why these thoughts overtake me, and I have no idea how to get them to go away.  Is this just normal, too?  Then again, I am the person who envisions herself offing herself on a daily basis...not that I'm planning on doing that (so no one worry yet), but the image itself does cross my mind quite frequently.  Like I said, I can't control my thoughts, and they're rather disturbing.

At least I'm not hearing voices.

Bingeing

I think it's nearing that time of the month again because I've been bloated and bingeing.  For some reason, I always ALWAYS binge several times the week before I get my period.  Then, when I'm on my period, I have practically zero appetite.  In the end, I end up having a shitty fat week and then get back on track.  But I really wish that, for once, I wouldn't binge repeatedly.  It was my dad's birthday today so I had cake, steak, chips...need I say more?  I now have rolls.

Hopefully, I can turn this around and begin working out again tomorrow.  Also, I need to start sleeping...but I've been getting 6hours consistently every night, which isn't necessarily good for me.  Therefore, I'm going to inform you all that I had better eat less, exercise more, and finally sleep tomorrow so that in my next post I will have good news to tell you...

hopefully...

Popping pills

Yesterday, after two days of consecutive bingeing, I had the genius idea to take 6 laxatives.  The recommended dose is 1-3 in a day, but after taking 4, I decided to pop 2 more...just in case.  I admit that I was mildly concerned for the aftereffects because one can't really predict when, and to what degree, the little pink tablets will take effect.  For me, my stomach began churning when I woke up in the morning.  I fortunately made it through church without too many problems (though with great discomfort), and I managed to make it to my private bathroom in time when I got home.  They worked wonders, but my god, do they slaughter your stomach sometimes!  Painful.  Not overwhelmingly so by any means, but my legs felt numb for a while.


I'm still suffering enduring the effects now after a several hour long hiatus, and I'm crossing my fingers that I will be fine tomorrow since I have to work.  I love the feeling of not having shit in me, even though I know it doesn't help with weight loss, but it's definitely inconvenient when you have things to do.  To anyone considering the use of laxatives, I recommend you don't start because they're addicting.  Kind of like all the other destructive things I do; I don't recommend any of them.  Sure, I still do them, write about them, and sometimes congratulate myself on them, but if I were honest with myself, then I would probably go back in time and stop myself from beginning my own personal self destruction.  Unfortunately, I don't know when it began...


I don't think there was ever a set day or event that caused it.  Judging by my actions as a child, I think it was only a matter of time before I lost it.  When I first began not eating, I don't think I was really even doing it to lose weight.  It was just one meal at a time, or not wanting to eat while at work or in public, until slowly it morphed into something else entirely.


People say you never know what you've got until it's gone, but in this case, I think I never knew what I had until I had it all...and it's destroying me.

Burning it off

I just had a hot dog, and I'm trying to figure out how many calories that entailed...let's see:  hot dog, bun, onions, relish, mustard...?  I give up, so I'm guessing, it was at least 500 calories.  Sadly, I also had fruit for breakfast (100 cals), a protein bar for lunch (190 cals), and more fruit and carrots after work (250 cals?), so that brings me to *gasps*  1040 calories.  That's terrible!  Fortunately, I'm going to work out in about five minutes, and I'm planning on an hour on the elliptical and then weights for at least 30 minutes.  HOPEFULLY, that repairs some damage.  Why can't I just be less squishy?

In all honesty, I think I'm nearly as small (and I use that word loosely) as I was in high school.  I've been wearing jeans from my senior year that are baggy, but I think they were baggy then as well.  I remember distinctly that they weren't baggy when I bought them, but when I stopped eating, they turned into trousers.  It's odd that even now that I'm losing weight, I feel like a giant.  I don't think I ever won't feel huge, and I think I will always have it programmed in my mind that I am a whale.

My coworkers already noticed that I apparently "don't eat" within my first week of working.  In my defense, however, I always eat lunch while I'm there...sure, it's coffee and a protein bar, but last time I checked a protein bar was in fact food.  Therefore, I eat.  I'm not sure why I'm the one who gets hounded for this when plenty of other people sometimes skip lunch.  Perhaps, I'm just the most consistent and clearly have an intense love/addiction to caffeine, but I still eat.  When one of the guys asked me one time (joking) if I was anorexic or bulimic, I laughed, said no, and explained that if I was then I would be skinny...sad life.  I am in no one category so it's a good thing I don't like being categorized, but why can't I at least get the advantage of not being a drooping body of lard?

Life sucks.  Why do we put up with it every day?

**

Have you ever felt like you were drunk without a drop of alcohol touching your tongue?  I swear I have been for the past hour.  It happens to me sometimes that I'll suddenly feel a little dizzy before my mind goes fuzzy, my vision slightly delayed, and the world seems like it's turning upside down.  My skin usually starts to sweat, my arms grow weak, and I swear that my heart is pounding.  When you're sipping a special drink and this happens, you think, "Yes, my (enter alcohol of your choice) is working!"  But when you're simply sitting on a piano bench, struggling to see the keys, you think, "Holy shit, what is this?!"  And then, you continue to attempt to play, pretending like it's normal to feel like you're about to fall to the floor.

If you're me, you might decide that you drank to much water or ate too much food and a trip to the bathroom is just the right cure.  That's what I did, and while my head still hurts, at least part of my discomfort is gone.  I'm sure that was not good for me, but, like I've said a million times, when do I ever do anything that's good for me?

...although I did go tanning today for the first time in a very long time AND I got my nails touched up.  They're gold now, by the way, and I love them.  Also, I thought I'd mention that yesterday? Friday the 13th?  Yeah, I was definitely jinxed because everything I did was chaos.  I work in a lab, and I was convinced, at one point, that when I turned on a sink, I was going to somehow start a fire.  That's how disastrous my day was.  Fortunately, no fire was started, but don't get me started on all my other troubles.  I blame the date.

A slightly better morning

...but shitty day.  Fortunately, I didn't wake up with the incessant need to hurl the contents of my stomach into the toilet this morning, but my mouth has felt terrible still as a result.  I don't know if the acid did something or if my mouth is just dry...I think my teeth or rotting, though, because they're extremely sensitive and hurt sometimes when I chew gum.

Moving on, I worked out today, so I'm proud.  I ate about 900 calories (could definitely improve that number) and burned only about 500 at the gym.  I really need to counteract my previous week's bingeing spree because I look like a cow.  I swear that the cows along the road on my way to work are mooing in irritation because they think I've escaped the pasture.  Honestly, I just hate feeling like a man.  Girls are supposed to be dainty not beastly, so what am I?  Some odd kind of man flower?  I would be frightened if I saw me...oh wait, I do, and I'm petrified.  A woman at work told me that I have "the prettiest eyes," which is lovely to hear, but it's my only redeeming quality.

I would really like, also, to move out of my parents' house so that I can wallow in my misery ini peace.  They keep trying to get me to socialize, despite my preference to remain by myself.  For some reason, it is beyond them how people desire different things in the world and how their spawn could possibly not be an exact replica of their personalities. I sound extremely bitter, I know, and perhaps I am, but I want you to know that I really do love my parents.  But when they assume that I am one way when I am not, it irks me...such as when my mom describes me as a "bubbly, happy person."  Do I really seem cheerful to you?  No, probably not, but she's not supposed to know that.  Either I hide things really well and doesn't pay attention or I truly don't know myself at all.  I don't know which is worse.

Painful beginnings

I began my day by purging this morning.  I woke up from my long 2 hour "nap" last night (or rather, this morning), and I was so nauseous that I had to vomit.  As expected, my day sucked and I felt like shit.  So I'm going to bed, and should have gone several hours ago to make up for my lack of sleep last night.  It was all kind of a blur, really...one of those nights when I put off tomorrow by remaining awake and thus suffering the following day.  I don't know why I do it, and I know I'm doing it now.  I guess I just know how much I don't want to wake up, but sadly, I can't stop time.  Wish I could.  Where's magic when you need it?