"The woods are lovely, dark and deep but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep."
Let's start on a good note. THE DRESS FITS. IT FUCKING FITS NOW. It is night number 4, I don't know how much weight I've lost but I'm now at 120lbs and the dress fits. Part of me is SO RELIEVED. That is a Vivienne Westwood dress, not cheap, so when it didn't fit, my heart just sank. I can't say it's a perfect fit, the buttons up the front are tight, and it doesn't look great when the buttons pull...but the point is, I can get it on...and I've yet to work night number 4, so I'm not even halfway there yet.
I'm hoping by the end of 7 nights, I will be properly fitting that dress. Not just squeezing into it. And just like last night, the start of night number 4 and the nausea is setting in. Something about night shifts does that to you. I still eat my one meal a day, but the amount that I'm able to eat is steadily decreasing.
Look down at my tummy, see rolls of fat, feel disgusted. Squeeze the fat all over my body, feel even more disgusted. I am still so fat. I am so fat that it makes me feel sick. Fat and bloated. I need to start working out but I'm so tired. So very tired.
I've decided that with my next pay cheque, I am going to buy myself a coffee machine. It's probably not a great investment, but whatever it takes to get through right?
So some news, I've found out that Joe is FUCKING ENGAGED. I am completely and utterly mindblown at this news. When I heard, I was like...W.T.F. I guess I feel there is something in him that is so un-marriable. Well, maybe for me anyway. Even though I am in such disbelief, now that I know who is fiancee is, a lot of things make more sense. His fashion sense for one.
See, I've always believed that the way a man dresses can be a dead giveaway to his relationship status. Joe has always puzzled me. His shirts and pants are always well ironed and he is always well groomed, but, but, his shoes! And the style of his clothes are so...off. I had written it off as him having like, an OCD complex about wrinkles or him having a really nice mum who still does it. But his wife! (future wife) Absolutely lovely girl. Delightful, I really like her, but the woman has no taste in clothes. It's a pity too. She's absolutely cute as a button, but dresses like...well, if I were to ever dress like that it would signify me completely giving up on life, but I guess fashion just doesn't matter that much to her.
Funny thing is, when I heard the news I just felt the wave of hate crash into me. There is so much hate flowing through me that it gives me energy. I can't sleep. Which sucks because I'm on night shift. I can't eat. Which is a lie because I stuff my face every evening. (On a side note, I am losing weight despite the fact that I eat each night and haven't gone to the bathroom for days so yay.) I can't fucking do anything. All I want to do is run, but I can't because of the torrential rain outside.
I can't work out who the hate is directed towards. Do I hate Joe? His fiancee? Or myself. I'm not sure. And I don't know how to work it out. All I know is that I hate something. And boy, do I FUCKING HATE IT. I want to fuck something up real bad....reeeeeal bad. I don't know what I want to do. I want to hit something.
And something inside me just feels dead.
And a voice inside is starting to scream and wail. You stupid idiot. You broke the one rule. Always presume they are taken until proven otherwise. The one time you break the rule, look at what happens. You fucking broke the rules. And what are you going to do now? Try to fill a hole inside you that you never knew you had but secretly hoped Joe would fill. Now he can never fill it. But food won't fill it either.
Yes, yes, hope is gone and all that stupid crap. But live in the moment and the only thing that remains now is how you deal with it. Think of it this way. There is a space to fill. If you are smaller, that space will also get smaller and smaller until it goes, and then there will be no hole to fill, and then you will be okay again. Now isn't that a better, more logical solution than eating your pain away.
So some news, I've found out that Joe is FUCKING ENGAGED. I am completely and utterly mindblown at this news. When I heard, I was like...W.T.F. I guess I feel there is something in him that is so un-marriable. Well, maybe for me anyway. Even though I am in such disbelief, now that I know who is fiancee is, a lot of things make more sense. His fashion sense for one.
See, I've always believed that the way a man dresses can be a dead giveaway to his relationship status. Joe has always puzzled me. His shirts and pants are always well ironed and he is always well groomed, but, but, his shoes! And the style of his clothes are so...off. I had written it off as him having like, an OCD complex about wrinkles or him having a really nice mum who still does it. But his wife! (future wife) Absolutely lovely girl. Delightful, I really like her, but the woman has no taste in clothes. It's a pity too. She's absolutely cute as a button, but dresses like...well, if I were to ever dress like that it would signify me completely giving up on life, but I guess fashion just doesn't matter that much to her.
Funny thing is, when I heard the news I just felt the wave of hate crash into me. There is so much hate flowing through me that it gives me energy. I can't sleep. Which sucks because I'm on night shift. I can't eat. Which is a lie because I stuff my face every evening. (On a side note, I am losing weight despite the fact that I eat each night and haven't gone to the bathroom for days so yay.) I can't fucking do anything. All I want to do is run, but I can't because of the torrential rain outside.
I can't work out who the hate is directed towards. Do I hate Joe? His fiancee? Or myself. I'm not sure. And I don't know how to work it out. All I know is that I hate something. And boy, do I FUCKING HATE IT. I want to fuck something up real bad....reeeeeal bad. I don't know what I want to do. I want to hit something.
And something inside me just feels dead.
And a voice inside is starting to scream and wail. You stupid idiot. You broke the one rule. Always presume they are taken until proven otherwise. The one time you break the rule, look at what happens. You fucking broke the rules. And what are you going to do now? Try to fill a hole inside you that you never knew you had but secretly hoped Joe would fill. Now he can never fill it. But food won't fill it either.
Yes, yes, hope is gone and all that stupid crap. But live in the moment and the only thing that remains now is how you deal with it. Think of it this way. There is a space to fill. If you are smaller, that space will also get smaller and smaller until it goes, and then there will be no hole to fill, and then you will be okay again. Now isn't that a better, more logical solution than eating your pain away.
I am so happy that you fit into your dress! So so happy! It is the little things, I think, that keep us going through everything.
ReplyDeleteI say be happy for Joe too, and at least we know why he has such a fashion sense.
I just got out of the shower, and I was on a pro-woman kick thinking: "Woman are just so wonderful, we should stick together." (I don't know how that is relevant to anything you said, but it was relevant in my mind.)
I wish you more luck in the weight department, thus far you are doing way better than I am. I looked in the mirror this morning and could swear that I look pregnant, which is practically impossible!
Stay strong through everything and drink lots of wonderful coffee! It is always the highlight of my day every morning.