Sunday, June 21, 2009

INSANITY

What is the definition of insanity again? Doing the same thing and expecting different results? Well, here I am. My life is fucking crazy around two things: money and food. I am in the hole at least 700 bucks (maybe more by now) and just ate a huge piece of apple pie and some peanut butter and honey (after my food day was complete).
How do I really feel? Like I can't count on myself. Like I am a loose-cannon who does self-destructive, childish things and then is pissed when the universe holds me accountable.
AARRRGGHH.
So what is the answer? 1, 2, and fucking 3.
So the powerless thing is easy, I'm sorta fucked. The coming to believe is harder. Do I believe that I can be restored to sanity around my money? Well, not really. Around my food? Not really. But you know the cool thing is that I felt that same way last year this time, but around my bulimia. I was sure that I would puke the rest of my life. And here I am, with 5 months clean. WOW.
So I know that I can be restored to sanity. I just need to remember during my days how insane I really am.
So let's redefine our abstinance, first with food. I will eat no more than 5 times a day. I will not eat past 7pm. I will not eat processed sugar. I will no longer combine raisins with nuts, or peanut butter with ANYTHING. As for the rest, following this plan above is good for me. I feel sure that with lots of exercise, I can lose my weight nice and slowly on this plan. Let me repeat it.
No more than 5 times a day
No processed sugars
no eating past 7pm
no combining raisins with nuts
no combining peanut butter with anything
Oh, and I am WELCOME to get a 3 dollar frozen yogurt everyday. with almonds.
As for the money?
that i will save for tomorrow.

My Fears are Unfounded. . .

Tonight we had a wonderful night. We went to a loadie party and met Matt's old friends. It started out pretty awkward, but soon enough, I had a good time. Then we went to a roller derby, which was also fun. Then we came back and Matt fell asleep on the couch. I told him a couple of times that it was time to go to bed, and he mumbled, "m hm." He didn't get up, and so I said, "let's go!" Then he said, "quit fucking buggin' me about it." At which point I said, "sleep like shit, fine, I don't care." Then he called me, but I snapped at him and walked away.
Now he is back on his computer, will probably fall asleep soon, and I will not get to sleep with him four nights in a row.
Bummer for me.
Fabu out

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

WTF?

Here I am again, on day 5 of the Master Cleanse. My food got so scary. Over eating and gaining weight. I topped out at 179, but that was in the evening, after I had eaten. I was planning to go on the Cleanse anyway, because I am SICK and FUCKING tired of thinking about what, when, how much and how I will eat. Am I gaining or losing? I am fat! I am not fat! Jesus. I just needed a fucking break. So here I am, on day 5. And I am remembering the last time, when on day 7 I weighed myself and I had lost only 3 pounds. I guess the real question is why the fuck am I doing this? I know, I know. I want to see if I can make decisions with my food and stick with them. But I wasn't counting on the whole shaky thing. That kinda sucks. I don't think I did any exercise last time I was on the Cleanse. Maybe that is what the shaking is about. In any case, I ain't eatin' tonight, so I am writing this to process those feelings. Sometimes when I come close to doing something but don't do it, I have an excess of energy in my body. And I seem to have this excess energy anyway. Last night, I was exhausted, but fairly humming with energy. I had what I have heard termed restless-leg syndrome. I had to do extensive yoga stretching just to sleep. And my true love was gone. Lame.
I am grateful, grateful to have not thrown up since Jan 27. What a miracle. And I have gained NO weight. I fluctuate between 175 and 179. So fucking what. I remember being over 200 pounds, and being so grateful when I went down under 200. So it is all relative. I could weigh 155 and feel totally skinny, then run into someone my height who would consider that weight grounds for suicide. So, I'm off the weight subject.
Fabu out