Tuesday, December 31, 2013

not since 2 became the new 4 and 6 became the new 14.

"I've got thick skin and an elastic heart."


First things first. HAPPY 2014 EVERYONE!!! I know we've been up and down for a while now but hey, I am going to start this year with a positive frame of mind. I can totally do this. I can totally lose this weight. 

And from that lead, my first weigh in of 2014:

From a starting weight of a disgusting 62.8kg, my weight is now 57.2kg!!!!

It's nowhere near an end point, but, I'm going down and that is what is important! I lost nearly 2kgs in the past 4 or 5 days. If I think of it that way, it's not nearly as fast as I would like, but I'll take it. And for today, dieting is on hold. It's New Years, I'm Asian, and I'm cooking and eating dumplings. 

Then I'm going to spent hours in the gym trying work off an indeterminate number of calories. 

The online dating guy continues to baffle me. I am currently operating under the guise that he is seeing multiple other girls. If that's the case then I am flattered to be the one that he chose to call at midnight. He had been texting me all night (while I was on duty at work!) and then called me at midnight, blind drunk. I'm surprised he was even operating a phone. 

I don't even want to begin to have a crack at what is going on. Just forget it. Focus on me. Focus on losing weight. He can do whatever he wants to do. If it fits in with me then cool, if not then too bad. 

This year will be about me babes. I'm going to become who I want to be. Thin. Very thin. Thin and gorgeous. Smart. Plays guitar. It'll happen. Watch this space!

Saturday, December 28, 2013

my fitness pal

"Well this particular scenario feels like another all time low."


MyFitnessPal. I am so addicted to it. My username is JudithMarie24 if anyone wants to add me.

So my friends, here is my intake for today:

-1 cup of mac and cheese 250cal
-1/3 cup of cooked spinach 14cal
-1 serving of rice vermicelli 90cal
-1 can of sardines in tomato sauce 140cal
-1 cup of cherries 74cal

=568cal total intake

And my output:
-30mins of Tae Bo ....which apparently is -297cal. Seems far too efficient but then again, compared with how tired I feel, it sure feels like -297cal.

=net intake of 271 calories. 

And the magic sentence...if every day were like today, I would weigh 51.8kg in 5 weeks. Oh god, please let every day of the next 5 weeks be like today. 

And even though it is only 1pm, I have decided I will not eat any more today. I may do some more exercise later. If I get hungry, I will drink hot tea and cold water. No alcohol. No juice. No coffee. Maybe a can of coke zero if I'm really desperate. 

The thing about MyFitnessPal is that it totally freaks me out about my intake. I mean, 74cal in a cup of cherries! WTF! I thought I was having a nice low calorie snack! 
I didn't feel like I'd had a big lunch/ morning snack at all but 568 in total says otherwise! I should really trade the mac and cheese for 10 cups of salad or something like that. The spinach was a really nice surprise. Maybe I'll live off spinach for a while. 

My lack of appetite continues! And I'm so glad. I still can't eat. And after a few bites I begin to feel a bit nauseated. The lack of food is already starting to give me a bit of a hunger headache, I'm still waiting for myself to adjust to it. 

Thanks for the feedback about the guy I met online. It is nice to see that my sentiments are shared. The whole thing confuses me. I agree that men can be huge sleezeballs and I just have to be super careful about it all. And in a fit of ego I agree that I deserve better than someone who is still scouting for better options. But...unless he has amazing organisational capacity that I can't even begin to fathom, then he's being really quite sweet to me. 

He's currently on holiday in another part of the country with a big group of his friends. They planned the trip a year ago apparently. They've hired a series of beach houses, brought their boats. Lots of fishing, an outdoor spa, and relaxing and drinking. Sounds good, I'm seething with jealousy. 

He left the day after our last date. But he's been texting me good morning every day, good night every night and he updates me several times a day on what he's up to. He sends me pictures of everything. He says he wishes I were there too. Tells me to rest well on my days off, tells me I must be feeling tired on my long days. 

It makes me feel...really quite...chuffed. Mind you, it's entirely possible that he is very organised and is juggling this same act with goodness knows how many girls. If he is doing that, then I wish I had half of his logistical skill. It would come in really useful in my job! Still, it's nice to pretend that it might just be me. 

I should make a habit of thinking of him at mealtimes, then I might just not eat for the next five weeks and weigh less than 50kg at the end of it all. Less than 50kg seems like an impossibility. It seems like a dream. I haven't been less than 55kg for such a long time. 

The plan is to weigh myself in 2 days time. On New Year's morning. 


Friday, December 27, 2013

I HATE ONLINE DATING. SERIOUSLY WTF.

"And I let it all out to find that I'm not the only person with these things in mind."


HAPPY CHRISTMAS LADIES AND GENTS!!!! Hope you are all having a good holiday season, one way or another. 

So a couple of things have been happening. SERIOUSLY, I HATE ONLINE DATING. I have no idea why I did this! It's killing me!!!!! And really, it just shows how paranoid I am as a person. I am definitely losing my grip on life though, I don't know what to do about it. I just wish I had never done it, then I would be in the midst of this self inflicted mental torture. 

So this is what I'm doing (yes, I know how mental it is. I know it's paranoid. I know it's stalker-ish. I know it is just plain wrong): I'm signing into the online dating site, just to see if the guy I'm seeing is still using his account. And what do you know, he is like, permanently on there! His account is so bloody active, which makes me feel great. 

We've been on 3 dates now. And the last date, it was so nice. We had dinner by the beach, we went for a relaxing walk along the beach, holding hands, or with his arm around me. We stopped and kissed. It was honestly probably one of the nicest dates I've ever been on. 

I admit I was a bit smitten afterwards. But now I know for sure that he's been on there since our date and it makes me want to kick my own head in. I don't ever want to check again, but I also can't stop doing it. It's a real problem! And it's all in my head. 

Part me really wants to just flat out ask him, how many other girls are you seeing. Are you interested in me at all, or are you just courting a big group of us and seeing who comes up trumps? Fuck. 

There is only one good side effect in all of this. I can't eat. At all. 

By my home scales, before I met up with him 2 weeks ago, I weighed in at 62.8kg. Now I'm weighing in at 59kg. So you know, that's reasonable. I'm happy with that! I can feel the difference, but it's not enough for anyone to notice, it's not enough to show in the way clothes fit. It's just not enough. 

But given the way my weight has been going, I'm just glad it's finally going in the right direction. Basically, I'll take what I can get. 

Today I ate...chicken noodle soup, half a bowl of that for lunch. 2 flat whites. 3 bites of salad for dinner. That's it. I don't know how many calories that is...maybe...500-600. Maybe a bit less. Every time I think about him, I want to vomit. I hope this feeling lasts forever. 

Thursday, December 19, 2013

chase and status

"Can you feel my heart is beating..."

So my weight has been static. My fridge is full of juice, diet coke and chilled water and fat free yoghurt. I am so sticking to this...except when I go out. Which is a lot this holiday season. I'm eating out a lot. Can't wait for it to be over so that I can just hike myself up at home, drink lots and go to the gym. Surely that will make me lose weight. Surely. 

Another venture that I have started (on the advice of an old surgical boss) is online dating. He made a very good point to me, if I don't go out much to meet people, and I don't want to date another doctor, and I don't do any online dating, then how exactly do I plan on meeting anyone? Now, when we were having this conversation I was blind drunk on champagne, wine, port and tequila, but somehow in my miserable and hung over state, I remembered it. And the more I thought about it sober, the more I got the point.

Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Never thought I'd take dating advice from a boss though! Went on a date with a guy yesterday. It was just so bizarre, an online profile morphing into a human. He seemed nice enough and I would like to see him again but I don't know how he felt about it, about me. In a really twisted way, I am so ├╝ber vulnerable right now that it makes me feel really ill. So I'll that I don't much feel like eating. So that's good! I shall keep this up! 


Friday, December 13, 2013

aaaaaaand I'm back. And fat as a whale.

"If I could change, I would. Take back the pain, I would. Retrace every wrong move that I made, I would."


Hello ladies. It's me, I'm back. 

I know there has been a VERY long and unintended absence this time. I've missed you all dearly, very dearly. But I stay away on purpose and now I'm crawling back on bended knee, hoping you will welcome back with your open arms. I've been trying to catch up on your blogs, but wow, there is so much!

Let me explain that hodge-podge paragraph. 

I stayed away because I thought that while I was eating, I might as well try to kick the whole eating disorder thing. For a while I did. But now the old habits are creeping back and now I'm fat as a whale and I have a whole lotta work to do. 

First things first. The hot cop is history. 

Let me put it this way. If I can find time in my 80hour working week for him, and for him to be too busy to see me in his 40hour week then something is very wrong. And he gave me a whole lot of excuses that made me realise he's not over his ex, he's in love with her and needs to go to the other side of the world to rediscover himself to get over her. He couldn't stop talking about her. Yes, I miss him. Yes, I'm petrified I will never find anyone. Yes, I knew for a while it was never going to work. But it still feels very hollow. 

And for the past few months I have been solidly plugging that emptiness with food galore. 

I fit none of my old clothes. I'm at my heaviest weight. I feel like a piece of shit. 

The next thing is that I have moved out of home. And funnily enough, it is not helping my diet. I am going out and eating out so much. But I have told my flatmate that I am going on a liquid fast of undetermined length. She's not opposed to it, is not going to make me eat, and so hopefully this will kickstart things in a big way. 

I can't look at myself in the mirror anymore. I just can't do it. There aren't enough words to describe how much I hate the way I have behaved, and continue to behave. 

I feel insecure. I am convinced that I will not find another guy. Which bothers me more than it should. I mean, up until I met the hot cop, I was convinced I was going to be forever alone and had accepted it. But it's like since I actually had a snippet of what it was like to be with someone, I somehow can't go back to that acceptance. 

I'm 24 now girls. I'm so so so so so not young anymore. I haven't met anyone, and I'm pretty sure I just need to get used to that. I certainly won't meet anyone at this weight. 

Ahhhhh fuck. How did I get to this, seriously, how. These should be the best years of my life but everything fucking sucks. 

And now I've reached the point where I need to be happy with something in my life, and the easiest thing is my weight. Like, I have so much extra fat, it shouldn't take too much to start to shift it. I need to do something. I can't stand being this miserable. 

I sincerely hope you've been keeping better than me babes. 


Sunday, August 11, 2013

fat and wildly confused

"You've got your reputation and your good intent."


I'm halfway through my 2 weeks of WONDERFUL leave. I cannot say how good it is just to not be at the hospital. To be able to sleep late and sleep in. I wish I had some friends on holiday too, but hey, I will take whatever I can get. Been to Melbourne, shopped up a storm. Came back. Went skiing. Fell down lots but the weather was great and I had a lot of fun. 

And at this point I should offer a sincere apology for 1. being so absent of late and 2. being such a good for nothing fatass. And I mean that. F-A-T A-S-S. 

I am too scared to weigh myself because damn, I ate like a pig pig pig pig in Melbourne, and fuck it, my clothes feel fucking tight. I can't believe I'm not willingly starving myself. I must be stress eating. Swear to God this is stress eating. The hot cop is stressing me out.

This whole thing with the cop is fucking with my head so much that I almost want to just chuck in the towel so I don't have to deal with it. The only reason I haven't done that yet is because it is so obviously the coward's way out. Giving up something that could be great just because I'm scared to deal with old demons. 

But they are seriously fucking with my head. Old demons that I never thought I would need to hear again, old demons that I thought I had buried a long, long time ago. 

(I've had this blog going for a while now, and I don't know how many of you have been with me from the very start, so apologies if I am repeating myself here.)

It's no secret that my parents and I have almost never seen eye to eye. But things were a lot worse when I was younger. I started cutting when I was about 13 or 14 years old. That was around the time thing started going wrong with dad. I can't even remember what I did, but he was always mad at me. I was never good enough. No matter how hard I studied, I was always too dumb for him, no matter what I did, I was too fat. 

Every day he would tell me that I had to study more. I needed my brains, I needed to be smart because I needed an asset. He told me that I was so fat and ugly and utterly unattractive that no man could ever want me. He told me that everyday from about the ages of 13 to 18. Wow. Didn't realise until now that it was 5 years! 

At any rate, his point was that because I was so physically repulsive, I had to be smart to get a good job so that I could support myself. Because obviously I would end up alone and hideous. Or, if I became rich enough, some man might eventually want me for my money. On some level, I believe it was a twisted joke and just his unique way of trying to motivate me to study, but it has since become my reality. 

To this day, and probably forever more, I believe that I am so hideously unattractive that no man could ever want me. It is part of me, I have come to accept it, and years ago I made peace with the fact that I will never be in a relationship. That was just a part of life that wasn't meant for me, and that is okay. 

I didn't really think about it again for a long time. But now there is the hot cop. And my brain is hard out short circuiting all of a sudden. He is by no means perfect (but who is), but he is a really, really good guy. Why the fuck does he want to spend time with me? Since we started seeing each other, I have been trying to find the loophole. He wants to be with me because...he has a short, fat, boring Asian girl fetish?...he was desperately in love with his ex and I was an easy rebound?...he is actually evil and will abuse me because I deserve it?...there must be a loophole! 

I can't reconcile that a great guy like him would want me for just me. And so I'm always on guard, and I'm always non-commital because fuck it, even though this is nothing, I will still be upset when it ends. And the more emotionally involved I am, the more unstable I will be afterwards. It's all self preservation. 

Nothing makes sense to me anymore. A fundamental part of my being is being questioned and I'm hating it. 

If no man could ever want me, then what the fuck does he want with me? 

And the answer isn't even sex. If we were having crazy monkey sex every night and he was booty calling me all the time I would be like, okay, I get it. I'm the rebound girl and he just wants sex. And that would be fine. I am absolutely okay with being thought of as nothing but convenience. I would just wait patiently for him to find a girl he likes and then leave me. 

But it isn't that! Why can't it just be that simple! The whole sex thing is making everything worse. I wish he was using me for sex, but he's not. I never tell him when it hurts but I must have the worst poker face in the world because he always seems to know when it does. And he'll stop, cuddle me, tell me that it'll be okay and that with time, it'll get less sore and I'll enjoy it. At this point my terrible poker face will betray the fact that I feel guilty for him stopping. To which his response is always that we'll go slow, he knows I'm not ready to do any more, and that he really doesn't want to hurt me.

After a survey of my girlfriends, I've come to the conclusion that the above reaction, stopping mid-sex to do that is just unheard of. So much so that he's probably an alien. 

He's not even getting sex out of this, so what the hell is he getting out of it! I mean, I don't have the time to properly spend time with him. I live with domineering parents so I can never stay the night at his place, no matter how much he wants me to. I work so much that I'm always tired. I can't even properly fuck him. Why the fuck does he still want to see me? 

Friday, July 26, 2013

"Well, you're not a virgin anymore."

"Baby be the class clown, I'll be the beauty queen in tears."


So a lot has happened since I last posted here. An awful lot. And I've learnt a lot about myself. I've been out with my cop many, many times. And the odd thing is, he's not my boyfriend. Definitely not. I have absolutely no idea what is happening between us at all. All I know is that when I'm with him, things seem to be easy. And when I'm with him, I forget about everything. 

Yes, I have my moments filled with self doubt when we're not together but those are largely my issues, as opposed to issues with us. I'm already feeling guilty about things. I don't exactly have time for him. I'm ALWAYS at work, and this is making me realise just how much I work. I work a lot. He works on average 40 hours a week in various shifts. I work on average 65 hours. His longest shift is 9 hours. The longest shift I've ever worked is 16 hours. I'm starting to understand why I'm always tired. 

The other day I had a terrible day at work. Was supposed to meet up with him afterwards but I ended up finishing 3 hours late, crying and in tears. It had been the shittiest day on record ever. I text him, saying that I was gross, had had a shit day, was super late, and he really probably shouldn't see me. I mean, I had changed into scrubs because everything was so shit. People were dying, people were being transferred to ICU, it was just thoroughly shit. After all, by the time I was finished with work, he was due to start his night shift in 2 hours.

He ended up just saying I should come over. And so I did, I was too numb to do anything else really. I sort of stood forlornly on his doorstep for a few seconds and as soon as he opened the door, he just wrapped his arms around me, maneuvered me into his room and we flopped onto his bed. For an hour we just lay there like that, he had wrapped himself around me and was talking about random things and I really did just completely forget about work. 

The night before we had tried to have sex. And I say "tried" because we had to stop because I was so bleedy and paining. I mean, I knew it was going to be like that, I think I freaked him out a bit by being bleedy. I didn't mind the bleeding, but it was so damn painful. He said he didn't want to hurt me, and that we'd take things slow because it was my first time, and that I'd start to enjoy it with time. "Well, you're not a virgin anymore." He tells me as he puts his arm around me and just cuddles me for a while. 

I don't exactly know how I feel about that. But we've gone out a few times since then. And I certainly hope to be in his pants again before I jet away to Melbourne on holiday.

Now ladies, I need some advice - I've never been in a relationship before and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing and how things are going...any comments/advice/heckling is welcome. 

Thank you in advance!

Sunday, July 14, 2013

getting skinny, getting skinny bitches!

"Take a chance you stupid ho, take a chance coz you might grow."




Well that's certainly what I'm saying to myself. Take a chance. I'm trying to psych myself out for my first circuit training class tomorrow. I can already see the silver platter with my arse on it. And I'm pretty damn sure it'll get handed to me a minute into the class. Why am I going? Because the hot copper will not stop asking. 

I don't get it, I don't understand why he keeps asking me to the gym. And I know it will not stop so I just have to suck it in (literally) and just go. Well fuck. I might look a fool but if I can keep it up, I'll get thin. I'm going to be so hot and sweaty, it'll be gross. Why the hell would he want to see that?

I've lost a good 6lbs since I met him because I have absolutely no appetite at all. Can't bloody eat, can't bloody sleep, can't bloody work. And that's without me trying to lose weight at all. I'm now at 118lbs, the lowest that I can remember being for a very long time. If I add the gym into that mix, well. Who knows what might happen. I want to get to 110lbs soon, and then I'm going to pick up ballet again and make a good go at going en pointe this time round. 

Trying to psych myself out by looking at celeb fitspo and thinspo. They must hard out work out to look that good. And frankly, if I go through any of the above transformations then it will all be worth it, even if he dumps me on the spot at the gym for being such an unfit slob. 

There. I said it. What I'm really afraid of. I've spent my whole life feeling like an ugly, good for nothing piece of crap. Truly believing that no man would ever want me. I spend most days feeling fat and ugly and preoccupied with using all my energy to look presentable. And now somebody has appeared to have picked me up, and not just somebody, a fucking gorgeous cop who seems to have his life sorted. He is very quickly becoming the conduit for all my greatest fears. 

I'm already scared to death that I'm too fat for him. Now I'm fucking scared I'll be too unfit for him. He's not even my boyfriend and I'm already scared that he's going to dump me for not being good enough. 

And I really don't want to lose him just yet. Just last night, when he was on duty and having his dinner break, he came to my house, picked me up, drove me to the beach where we sat in his patrol car, looking out at the city lights. And so we made out again. I'm really starting to like this whole making out thing. 

Right now it's too late to change anything. All I can do is go tomorrow and do my best. And hope that it's enough. I hate feeling so inadequate. 

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

my guy

"Living just to find emotion hiding somewhere in the night."



Well ladies, I did say in my last post that I would write about the first date in more detail once I calmed down a bit, but now it is becoming abundantly clear that I will never calm down and so I might as well just bite the bullet and write this post. 

I'm desperately trying to think of ways to describe my man. Firstly, I'm calling him "my man", so that at least gives some indication of where my head is at. Secondly, it's 3am, and I'm on night shift at work, so I do give myself permission to wax lyrical if I so choose. 

I should start off by saying that I have no idea what  my relationship status is right now. One date doesn't qualify as anything really. Certainly not for him. It means a lot to me, because there were a whole lot of firsts for me in that one package, but he's definitely been there, done that. So we met up at a nice beach, went for a walk along it, just chatting. He told me about his screed of ex-girlfriends, most of which scared the bejeezus out of me. I'm certainly different from the rest of them! Not sure if that's a good thing or not. 

He told me about his ambitions, and really, it was like the worse job interview ever. He kept telling me about stuff that he's good at. Well, I guess it worked because I was fucking impressed. In an odd way, I was doing the opposite. Like, I'm not that great, please don't be disappointed.  

We walked for about an hour, totally didn't realise it was for that long, and he took me to a cafe for another hour or so and a chat. And over coffee he was telling me about his house. 

"If you like, I can give you a tour." He said tentatively. And so we went back to his place. Which apparently is not normal for a first date according to most of my friends. And I guess that for my first date ever, it was a little out of the ordinary. But it felt right and I felt safe and so I went. 

He showed me around the house, showed me the renovations that he had been doing and then showed me his room. Let me say right off the bat that he owns some damn good music. So he played me some music as we sat on his bed and chatted some more. And he started getting quite touchy. I mean, when we were on our walk, he was helping me up and he'd tap me every now and then to redirect me. But in his room, he was tickling me (way too much) and sliding his hand up and down my leg. 

Come leaving time, he walked me to my car, and just as I was about to get in, he grabbed me and pulled me into him and kissed me. Out there in the bitter cold, on the road by my car. I had expected maybe a little kiss, a quick peck, or even just a peck on the cheek. After all, he does know I've never had a boyfriend before, never been kissed. 

But it wasn't like that at all. He was very gentle, just wrapped me in his arms and then I suddenly found myself in a long, passionate kiss, tongues and all. When we broke apart I was quite speechless, and just when I was about to break away, he pulls me close again, tilts my chin and we're off again. 


Sunday, July 7, 2013

oh my motherfucking god I'm going to die.

"A little time with you is all that I get. That's all we need because it's all we can take."






So today I met up with my hot as fuck copper. I caved and decided to Facebook stalk him a wee bit, but, as expected, as a copper, the only thing his fb shows are a few pictures. But they were enough. There is this one picture of him in a black muscle tank and when I saw it all I wanted to do was vomit. 

And the vomity feeling has been with me the whole time. Oh my goodness. I mean, I knew he was rather well built, being a policeman and all and having seen him in uniform. But holy fucking shit he has muscles on his muscles and muscles where I didn't know they even existed, and I'm a DOCTOR. All the photos are of him climbing fucking mountains or whatever and fuck I'm going to die. 

I don't know what I was thinking before, actually I'm pretty sure I wasn't thinking at all. I can't go out with someone like that!!!! 

I have never felt so fucking fat in my whole entire life. And so I went running for the first time in like a year yesterday. Turns out I can run pretty fast when I'm feeling inferior. But now I'm pretty damn sore. 

I don't know why I feel so bad about all this. Probably because I've never ever thought I would be in the situation where I would feel so inferior to a guy. I've always thought I'd go out with another doctor, and well, there are some good looking ones, and they can be quite well built, but "traditionally" I'm the one that is intimidating. The word "ophthalmologist" tends to scare them a lot. 

For some reason I find my intellect meaning fuck all here. And if that is taken out of the equation then I really, really, don't have anything left. 

UGH! Why the fuck did he ask me out? Like, why? Do you guys know what he offered up as first date options? Rock climbing (which is actually okay, apart from my paralyzing fear of heights, but he doesn't know that so okay), or...and I quote " a circuit training boot camp session, just you and me." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Those are four perfectly okay words that when strung together like that, mean hell. 

Well, I might lose some weight, but with this guy, I might actually die first. 

Needless to say I didn't exactly jump for either of those options *thanking all the gods that I am going onto night shifts tonight...there has never been a more perfect excuse* and so we just took it easy and went to a cafe. 

Then we went for a nice long walk along the beach. Then we went back to his place, where we sat on his bed and listened to music and chatted about things. 

Ladies, he is PERFECT. He's got so much ambition, he's got everything planned out and he's got his goals set and he's working hard for them. He's so damn good looking that it almost hurts my eyes. He's really easy to get along with, and all in all, a genuinely nice guy. As long as he doesn't ask me to go do circuit training boot camp again because I will still die if that happens.  

I think he likes me, because we hadn't planned to go back to his place, but after we had coffee, he asked if I wanted to go. So I said yes. No, there was no crazy monkey sex (although I do hope that will come later down the track) but he did kiss me. MY FIRST KISS LADIES!!!!!  *sigh* I will write about this in more detail later. When I'm a bit more calm. 

I am still plagued by insecurities, but, at this stage I'm not fucking telling him about anything. And I'm not sure if I ever will. I am sooo not good enough for this guy. 

I mean, if I looked like any of the above pictures, I wouldn't feel so bad. 

Monday, July 1, 2013

the re-return

This, my friends, is the story of the re-return. 


And today is the day where I have stopped separating fantasy from reality. I have no idea what was real and what was in my head. So, my hot cop re-returned for me. In a way that I had somewhat dreamt of, but clearly did not think would ever happen. 

So let's start from the very beginning and I will attempt to tell this story with some sort of eloquence. 

I'm having coffee at work with friends, in a secret staff cafe, hidden in the hospital, chatting and enjoying what will be the first relaxing day in 3 months. My pager goes and I answer it on my mobile. It's my home ward and a nurse answers. "Judith Marie! You have a visitor here, he's a policeman and you are in trouble!" 

A million possibilities run through my head. What did I do? Did I do something wrong? Am I in trouble? Why would the police want to talk to me? The nurse on the other end becomes more flustered with the questions I'm firing at her so she just hands the phone over. 

He starts with, "I'm here because there is a patient downstairs who I have just brought through to ED. He had a seizure while driving." Now worse possibilities are flitting through my head. Did I discharge someone too early? And then they had a seizure and now the police want to charge me with something? Will the medical council get involved?

Terror is about to take hold, and it must be clear that I've got the wrong end of the stick. "Do you remember me? I'm the policeman that was there when you mother had her accident." 

And then all the pieces fall into place. 

Firstly, I'm relieved as fuck that I'm not in some sort of trouble. Secondly, disbelief takes hold. Meanwhile, he's still talking. 

"I'm on your ward, I remembered you telling me and I thought I'd pop by and say hi. Are you around at all?"

I explain that I am nowhere near the ward, and that unfortunately my location isn't easy to describe. If I send him on a trip looking for me, we could be missing each other for days. 

He asks me how far away I am, I say, a few minutes, he says he really should get back on the road, and I head back to the ward. I burst in with my registrar and there he is, standing out like a sore thumb in my home ward, smiling at me in all his uniformed glory. Blonde hair slicked back, blue eyes shining and looking more than a wee bit sheepish.

I saunter up to him and say hello and my registrar rushes past, not exactly the master of subtlety she keeps ducking round the door to catch glimpses of us. 

There is some small banter, he asks me how my mother is, chats a bit about my father, and a bit about work. I know he should have left ages ago, he tells me he's left his partner in ED to do all the work while he's come up to look for me. 

"Would you like to meet up, outside of this place?" And he gestures to the hospital in general. And he saves my number on his phone. 

Later he texts me and tells me that today was the first car crash that they had brought to my hospital in over a year. And he took a chance and came to find me. Our rosters are both slightly hellish, but we've penciled in Sunday night...having a caffeinated drink before going to work. By some garish coincidence, we are both on night shift. 

After our chat he says he absolutely must get going, I hope he doesn't get in trouble for my sake. He says he'll text me. And he does. As soon as he gets off work. He tells me he's glad he took a chance and tried to find me. 

Sunday, June 30, 2013

the unlikeliest of thinspirations

"You will never escape from this sad, sad house. I take his hand, we sink."




I've just had the unlikeliest of thinspos pop up in my life. And before I start, here is a disclaimer that what I am about to say is sick, depraved, and an absolutely deplorable example of the awful human being that I am. I don't want any of you to take up the same example...I'm just trying to get this out of my head. 

I've often wandered how fast someone can lose weight. Often wandered how it was possible to drop several dress sizes in next to no time at all. But now that I have seen a real life example of it with my own eyes, well. 

Let's set the scene. It's an ex-patient of mine, who lost more than 20kg in 6 weeks. Okay, so here is the bad part, he has cancer. Pretty end stage too. No appetite whatsoever, lived off a few spoons of supplement every day for 6 weeks and lost 20kg. If we take the cancer out of the equation, and say the weight loss is about 12-15kg with a normal person and reduced food intake. 

So trying to tweak the equation further, and put the weight loss at 8-10kg over 6 weeks if I drink...a few coffees a day, trim at that, and eat maybe one or two pieces of fruit. And...maybe 6kg over 4 weeks if I can keep it up.

I have lost nearly 10kg in 4-6 weeks before. So it must be possible. And that was eating normally on weekends and liquid fasting. 

The reason I'm so focussed on 4-6 weeks is because in that timespan, I will be going to Australia to see my friend, during which time I will be shopping up a storm. I'd love to buy small, skinny clothes. I'd also love for her to be able to see a difference in my weight. It must be possible. I just have to set my mind to it. 

I am well aware of how sick it is to have a dying patient of mine as thinspo, but it probes to me that it's possible. And the only way I can mimic a cancer is to have absolutely rigid self control. All I can do is try really. I'll keep you updated. 

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

well, it's a good job, better than a courier driver. that's the worst job ever.

"Roll the window down, this cool night air is curious."


Well, nothing to report on the weight front I'm afraid. My eating is more erratic than ever. I've gone back to eating whenever I get the chance and eating whatever I can get my hands on. Unfortunately this usually means something fried at the hospital staff canteen. When I'm not at work I'm out with the boys, at dessert places and eating salted caramel gelato and things like that. 

I'm updating you all because I absolutely MUST tell you about this guy. The other night my mother had a car accident, she's not hurt at all, our car is a bit damaged, but it was a 4 car pile up on the motorway and so the police were all up in it. 

Dad and I had to go pick her up from the scene, and that is where I met THE HOTTEST COPPER I HAVE EVER SEEN. He was tall, rather well built, and extremely handsome. Short, close cut blonde hair, great jaw and cheekbones and smiling eyes. When we arrived dad ran straight for mum, and I was asking about what happened. The first thing he told me was that my mum had told them that I was a doctor. The second thing he said was, "I don't suppose you doctors have much time for dating?" 

And I, stupidly, did not know how to respond. He asked me what hospital I worked for, was surprised that he had never seen me before as he was often there patrolling. Asked for my name and gave me his and that's the end of that really. Oh, and he waved at me from his patrol car as he drove past. 

Still, I've been thinking about him since then. God, I'd love to fuck him. I do hope I bump into him again. Somehow. I'm admitting in ED tomorrow and I'll be dressing well, just on the off chance that I do bump into him. You never know. 

In the meantime I've been telling all my friends about him. I have to say...even I thought he was slightly hitting on me. Which was nice, because I don't think anyone has done that before. Made me feel quite cute. 

Sunday, June 16, 2013

and an old fear rises

"While Jesus is saving I'm spending all my grace on the rosy red pallor of lights on centre stage." 




So yet again I've let this blog lapse a wee bit. Work gets to me in a weird way now. I miss boys, so, so much. Cam, I miss Cam especially. It breaks my heart to know I won't see him anytime soon. And still, I'm still spending money, the only difference is that I feel more guilty for doing it. 

I feel like I'm on the precipice of getting my life back together though. Some old way of living is creeping up inside me. Op shopping at cheap places and getting that high off a good find, putting together outfits with a lot of thought. Saving money, working out, losing weight, studying and generally progressing. I used to be that person. And there should be no reason why I can't be that person again. 

For the past few days I've been drowning myself in thinspo and fitspo. Mostly I've been feeling increasingly weak. Less fit. Walking up stairs makes me short of breath. I want to be fit again, and skinny, with a wee bit of muscle definition. 

I'm starting to give up fatty hospital lunches for a bottle of water and a piece of fruit. I'm buying fruit to have for dinner, to eat before dinner so I eat less normal food. I'm hoping, praying, please, this time, let me get this together. I need to get my life together. 

I'm going to start working out after work. Every hour counts doesn't it. It must count for something. I'm going to travel to Melbourne in a month and a half, and by that time, I want to be visibly thinner. 

I read somewhere that it takes 4 weeks for you to notice a change yourself, 8 weeks for friends and family to notice, and 12 weeks for the world to notice. I'm hoping that with some wild restricting and bumping up exercise, in 6 weeks friends and family will notice. It's been a long time since anybody noticed me. I'd love to just be noticed. 

This all must sound so very desperate, but I really miss those comments, I miss people telling me that I look thin. Of late, I've had far too many people call me fat and ugly. 

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

and my heart sunk into my arse.

"She's got ice on her lashes, white in her winter coat."


Well it would seem it's been a while since I was last on this blog. Hard to keep up with you all! I didn't intend on taking a break, but for a while my focus had shifted. For a while now I have been eating what I wanted, not weighing myself, shopping like I'm having a manic episode and looking fucking fabulous. 

Every day I still worried about my weight but fuck it my clothes fit and my clothes are fabulous. It would seem that if I'm wearing fabulous clothes, I feel that's all people see. I've gained so much weight that I can't ignore it anymore. I also have so little money that I can't ignore it anymore. So things haven't exactly been going well, even though this is the first time in at least a decade where I have been so relaxed about my weight. 

I'm in a wee bit of shit over my spending. My mother has just had a tizz at me. Fair enough too. I've spent $40,000 in the past 6 months, and as she says, that's a deposit on a house, or a new car. And I've got fuck all to show for it. Just a wardrobe full of designer clothing. Well, more like piles of designer clothing on my floor. As you can see from the photo, it's a rather large pile, and that's just the pile on the floor,  not including my 3 wardrobes and the spare room we have turned into a wardrobe for me. 

She's right. She's absolutely right. If I had saved, I could have bought myself a new car. Fuck. 

I guess I've got that sort of personality. I have to be obsessed with one thing or another. Once the Joe thing passed, I had nothing. And shopping and fashion overtook my entire life. I have nothing else to think about. Or rather, I fill my head with it so I don't have to think about how shit my life is. Anything for distraction. Anyway, my mother is right. This can't go on. I will have to stop shopping. Just fucking stop. But I need to start something else. And everything else I know is just as destructive. But maybe in a less obvious way. 

Since I last posted here, I've left orthopaedics, back in general medicine now. It fucking broke my heart. I miss my ortho boys every second of the day. Cried like mad the day I left, not proud of that. 



Changed my look a bit. This is the look that got me stopped by 5 random old men in one day who all told me how pretty I was. One even said that I looked like a perfect China doll. I didn't quite know how to take it. Shorter hair, cuter accessories. Sometimes I look like I've watched too many hours of Gossip Girl. 

Not all of Ortho was good. There was this registrar who I did a lot of night shifts with. His name is Richard. Nice guy in all respects, if only he could stop calling me fat and ugly. I know it's a joke, but still. I wonder what made him say it in the first place, I certainly didn't suggest him call me that. Kinda destroyed me a bit inside. 

I don't really know where I am going with this post. I guess I had a lot of random shit to rant about. But I'm back now, will try to catch up with all your blogs...and watch this space. The shopping addiction has to transform itself into something else. And it won't be good.