Friday, April 19, 2013

hoping for the best

"Problems have solutions. A lifetime of fucking things up fixed in one determined flash."

You know your life has problems when your hairdresser can see something is wrong when you show up for a ten minute fringe trim. Skye has been the first person in a long time to recognise how hard I'm working, and that yes, it is fucking difficult. That's what happens when all your other friends are doctors, when you're all working the same fucking job, you don't want to be the one loser to complain about it. 

I book in to see her in another 4 weeks. She looks at me, and I know that I don't need a haircut in 4 weeks time, even with my high maintenance cut. But I'm near tears at this point and she comes and gives me a hug and books me in anyway. I walk out as fast as I can, because if she hugs me again, I will cry. I feel angry and upset that I'm still fucking working. I've only got 7 days left in my marathon month of work, but I'm growing impatient. 

I feel like such a whiney ass. I just need to suck it up, box it in, man up and get on with it. This is no different from any other doctor. I hate being this frail when everyone else seems to be so strong. 

My weight is...I have no idea. I've been way too scared to weigh myself. Given that the last time was 118lbs, and I know I've gained all the weight back since then, I just know I'm going to have some sort of mental break down to see a number back in the 120s. 

I had another sort of wake up call today. My Vivienne Westwood dress has arrived. It's IT40 in size, which is my usual size. But it doesn't fit. It's too small. I can't button it up past my waist. It fucking sucks. It FUCKING SUCKS. It's an expensive dress. And maybe in 10lbs time, I will be able to fit it. I should be able to fit it. Fuck. It makes me wonder how much I actually weigh. My only hang up is that, it doesn't button up over my boobs. Now, my boobs are one of the only good things about me. 

When I say that, I mean, my boobs are the only thing about me that I think guys like. I'm not pretty or skinny, or anything. But I have a great rack. I wear a 32DD size. Which I find absolutely ridiculous, it doesn't feel like a real size at all. I do feel that I would rather be skinny, and ditch the boobs, but I'm so torn because men so obviously like them. 

That last sentence sort of makes me feel like I will end up as some serial killer's victim. Which tells me that I should stop my serial killer documentary marathons. 

I'm hoping night shifts works its magic on me again. I'm hoping and praying. I dropped 6lbs in 4 nights last night. I'm working 7 nights this time. I'm praying I lose at least 10lbs. If I'm up for it, I might try to do some exercise at the same time, but realistically, I know that probably won't happen. 

All this, all of what is going on makes me feel like I'm more depressed than I give myself credit for. And I know I need to get some sort of help for it. But really, when do I have the time. If I had the time, I'd get enough sleep for a start. 

On top of all that. Joe. Ugh. I was going to say that I don't know where to start but the truth is that's is because I have nowhere to start. Nothing has happened. I text him a few times, no reply. Fuck. Okay then. The logic tells me he's just too busy, sees the text and forgets to reply but it doesn't feel great. 

And the more I think about it...well. I remember seeing a patient with him, one with a history of self harm. He saw her scars, she said, I used to self mutilate and his response to that was "what gives you that?". I mentally facepalmed so hard. What gives you that? Fuck. He's too unobservant to notice my scars, either that or he doesn't think I'm capable. Fuck. Makes me realise I don't think I'll be able to tell any man about this, ever. Only one of my friends knows about it. And besides her, only the professor. 

There is a whole other story about the professor. But this post is full of enough self pity already without me going that way. 

NOTHING IS GOING RIGHT. I fucking hate it. This has to change. I need something to start going well. I don't know how much longer I can carry on like this. I need something. ANYTHING. I need something to go well, I need something in my life to be right. And please god, let that be my weight. 


  1. omg yes i know the feeling
    :( yeah i guess i can see how that works out. the whole 'oh, we're working the same hours as you - why are you bitching about it' sort of thing ugh i can't imagine how hard that must be
    if it makes you any happy, i'd love to be in the 130s. much less 120s!
    omg when you said that about the frock, i just...lost it. i completely and utterly lost it. i can just imagine you trying to put it back up and it won't zip
    fuck i would've killed myself
    i have 34B's that look like Cs for some reason to most people. i haaaaaate them. i absolutely loathe them. and i hate men as well so i don't want to give them a reason to stare at it.
    you are gorgeous hush i remember in one of your blogs you posted a pic (unless i was hallucinating) and you looked adorable so you are pretty hush now
    besides, dudes are dudes. as long as you have a rack, they're interested.
    :( this is making me unhappy
    especially the scars thing i just couldn't
    -Sam Lupin

  2. Sorry to hear you are going through a dark time right now.. I know the sick feeling of when life is going like shit, and you feel like shit about your weight on top of it.. it feels like everything sucks and will NEVER get better.. but, the good thing about being at the bottom is there is no where to go but up again! It will happen - hang on!

    I'm currently trying to tell myself this as well... 118 I would dream of right now! I know I'm well into the 120's and I can't even stand the thought of seeing that number on the scale..

    Hopefully better times are ahead, sounds like you have so much going on right now!



  3. I do wish you the best. Maybe it is the week, that stumbled off of the year, that happened to be bad. I've had an awful week that just had a whole lot of setbacks that I can't afford to have at this point in my life. Further, I end up feeling stupid for breaking down like an idiot at the Giant Eagle because they won't take my coupons and I'm late for an AA meeting, and I'm all out of cigarettes, and I need gas in the car, and I have a ton of work to do, and events to attend, and my gut looks huge, and no matter how long I run, my gut hasn't budged and I think it has actually gotten bigger within the last month despite all of my exercise. The holidays always get me with all of their good food.

    I do wish you the best, and I hope things get fucking better! You deserve it, and I will be sending you some good mental energy.

  4. This post was so full of sadness
    Why is that when we are feeling low that we focus on the one thing that we can change, our weight
    I've tried for years to find happiness in the number on a scale and I've come to the conclusion that it just doesn't work
    You would think that I would have stopped trying long ago but I still weigh myself every morning and that number dictates my mood, self esteem and self worth

    Hang in there
    Keep fighting
    Don't ever give up x