Every time I set a goal I don’t meet it. I wanted to be in good shape for my fitting next week, but I haven’t run once all month and haven’t managed to go more than 24 hours without eating some sort of junk food – I’m even craving it now as I write this!
March is no excuses, bc if I don’t run then I’m never going to be able to do my race in April. Maybe that’s it – I always put shit off until I absolutely *have* to do it. The wedding isn’t for three more months – Hubs and I are finally making this shit legal after two years of just walking around with a ring on – so maybe I’ll finally get serious with my diet in May. They can take the dress in a whole size two weeks before the big day, right?
I’ll also be done with school then, and I always stress-eat while studying/doing homework. So note to self: no more school. Three degrees is enough.
I never did get around to calling my shrink to up my meds, and I feel like now it’s too late for that as well. Antidepressants always take like 3-4 weeks to kick in, so by the time I adjusted to the higher dose it would be spring and I wouldn’t have to deal with SAD so much anyway.
I fucking hate living in New England. Half of me wishes the hubs had been disgusted with my bulimia when we met – because it was full-blown bulimia at that point, I’d completely given up on restricting and just b/p’ed all day every day – and our relationship hadn’t gone anywhere, we never moved in together or bought a house or any of that shit. Then I could have moved somewhere warm like I wanted to and not had to deal with the added burden of SAD on top of everything else. But the other half of me loves him and couldn’t imagine life without him and I know he’ll never leave, so I guess I’m just doomed to be miserable for at least a quarter of every year.
Ugh I sound like such a whiney little bitch.