I try to enjoy it; I really do. I even start to feel festive by the time I wake up thanksgiving morning. Unfortunately, by the time I’m laying in bed that night, as now, I loathe both the holiday and myself. Why can’t I just eat a normal meal? Why do I get full so quickly on actual food but then have seven desserts? (Literally, seven.) I have zero desire to eat tomorrow and hope I can get to at least dinner without doing so. Thank goodness it’s back to a regular schedule next week and I can heavily restrict three days and at least skip lunch the other two. Also, I’ve got to get more exercise. My thighs are so squishy it’s horrifying. My sister got gastric bypass surgery recently so she gets full quickly and “can’t” eat dessert or other simple carbs. I wish bring morbidly obese wasn’t a requirement to get that. I need it as prevention, to physically stop me from stuffing my face whenever there’s food around. I was watching a drug documentary when I got home tonight and honestly for like an hour I was wishing I was still a drug addict so I’d be obsessing about that instead of just food all the time. My sister’s bestie is super tall and thin and is on the ketogenic diet, which everyone accepts for some reason. I stopped eating meat a decade ago with no issue; maybe I just need to start telling everyone I don’t eat sugar or something so the fear of being called out will keep me accountable. Hmm…
So all week I’ve been stuck in the binge cycle, finally culminating with a purge last night. Then today I’ve been eating shit again, and tomorrow I’m going to the beach and will have to be in a bikini hating myself. I don’t understand why I can’t quit this shit. Why can’t I stop eating before I’m uncomfortably full? Why am I so drawn to all the worst shit? Why do I keep buying binge food and keeping it in the house when I fucking know better? And why is starving the next day the only solution that seems reasonable to my fucked-up brain? Logically I know that doesn’t help. I know it likely is a strong contributor to my binging behavior. Why is ED able to override my logical side EVERY TIME??
I feel like my entire life is a giant hypocritical situation. I want to be thin, but I don’t stop stuffing my face. I hate having an eating disorder, but I want to go back to when I was just anorexic. I take care of my outer body, with lotion and serums and all that shit, but I treat my internal body like shit, with a diet of garbage and no exercise.
Part of me blames it on the depression, which just makes motivating myself to do anything so goddamn difficult. But part of me just thinks I’m fucking lazy. I know what I have to do to get my body where I want. I’m sure I’ve posted “plans” on here a dozen times. So why can’t I fucking DO that??
sorry I’ve been kind of MIA lately; it’s not that I didn’t have anything to say but rather I just haven’t had the energy to write.
I’ve sunk into another depression and I’m feeling pretty stuck. I can’t sleep (hence the midnight post) but I’m tired all the time. I only want to eat junk food and I have no energy or motivation to work out or run. I’m forgetting to do everything on my to-do list and my house is a mess. I haven’t paid any bills that aren’t on auto-pay in like two months, and work is giving me a panic attack.
I don’t know how to get out of this funk. I’d make an apt with my shrink, but getting set up with my new insurance and her new facility is one of the things on my to-do list that I keep forgetting to do.
It seems like it should be so simple: buy more healthy snacks and less junk; get outside for a quick run; engage in relaxing activities. But i can’t. It literally seems impossible right now. I want to cry, but even that seems like too much work.
*sigh* maybe I’m just not meant to be happy.
I am close to a breakdown. I can feel it. I’ve been binging all day, couldn’t muster the energy to go outside even though it was freaking gorgeous, and just keep wanting to cry. I feel like a giant whale, even though I know I look thin from photos taken yesterday and comments by relatives.
I thought writing would make me feel better but I literally can’t think of anything to say that isn’t completely self-depreciating and awful. I’ll just sum it up simply: Failure.