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. 

if it hadn't been for Cotton Eyed Joe.

"Digging to the rhythm and the echo of a solitary siren, one that pushes me along and leaves me so desperate and ravenous. I'm weak and powerless."

With the safety net pulled out from beneath my feet I find myself medically managing all the orthopaedic patients. And it is so scary. These past few days I've been running on nothing at all. I don't know how I keep going. I've made a few silly mistakes as well. Today I was so hungry and nauseated and dizzy and deluded I had to ask a friend to come bail me out for an hour while I drank hot tea. I'm effectively breaking a 24 hour coffee and tea fast with a small meal each day.

Thinking of Mark makes me sick. I don't want to see him or speak to him. But I feel even more sick if I don't see him or speak to him because I don't know how to manage my patients' infections without him. And that thought scares me more than I dare to admit. So I call him every ten minutes until he answers his phone, and I run after him on the wards. 

Tell me what to do Mark. I don't know if this man will live without your advice. I know I'm asking dumb questions, I know I'm pissing you off, I know you want my bosses to do things that I can't get them to do. I'm only a little junior doctor and I'm doing my best, even if you don't think it's enough. I'm doing all I can. Tell me off as much as you want, if you've had a bad day, take it all out on me. Take it out on me, let it all out. All the bad things my bosses have done to you, all the unreasonable demands that they make, all the annoying patients, all the other doctors, all of us that won't leave you alone. Say what you like to me, but don't make my patients pay for my incompetences when you can cover the holes I'm leaving. 

So I say sorry over and over again, apologising for mistakes that aren't even mine. And I say thank you, over and over, and I tell him how unfair it is for him, how difficult it must be for him, and how much I appreciate him. And I eventually get what I need. Bloody long phone calls for the one sentence answer that I need. 

I'm stretched so thin. So thin. When people don't answer your calls for help, what do you do? How much longer can I battle on myself? 

But I get it done. I don't care. I don't care who I have to call, I spend all day ringing if I have to. At the end of the day, my patients are prepped for theatre, they're stable after theatre, they're discharged with a solid plan. I might be dying, but they're not. I'm so tired. I can't sleep at night. 

If it wasn't for Joe I'd be crying in the cupboards by now. He might call me every ten minutes with new jobs, he might pull me with him to see patients, but it's only because he trusts me. He's the first person in 3 months to acknowledge how hard I'm working. It makes me want to curl up cry on his shoulder because until he pointed it out, I hadn't realised how much I'd done. Until he said thank you, I didn't realise I was doing anything worthy of thanks. Such a small gesture, but it's made everything feel justified. 

If this isn't trial by fire, I don't know what is. 

the fat jeans

Hello my lovelies!!! I'm back from Singapore. And to find that I have 60 followers? What! I'm amazed! Hello to my followers! I missed you all when I was in Singapore, and I thought of you all at every meal. 

And let me tell you, every meal was a binge fest. I've been too scared to weigh myself but I can totally feel that I'm fatter. I ate more in those 5 days than I am allowed to eat in a whole month so I bet I've gained at lot. On the upside, I'm moving out in 3 days and task number 1 is to join the gym. And I will burn this disgusting fat off. 

People in Asia are tiny as. TINY. I'm a size XS at home, but in Singapore, I am a size L. It was a thoroughly demoralising experience. But at least I know that I have the genetic potential to be very small. It's not like it's impossible for me to be thin, I just have to work hard for it. I was TOTALLY one of the fattest people there and I was so ashamed of myself. 

While I was there I threw away my fat jeans. They're my big, comfortable jeans that always fit just right when I'm at my highest weight. I threw them away because I don't ever want to get to the stage where I'm able to fit them well again. I bought myself some new jeans that are too tight. They are going to look fabulous when they are a little bit loose. And I swear, in a month's time, they will be loose. 

Just a short post for now. I sincerely hope that you are all having a good holiday and that you are all doing better than I am on the weight loss front. I will catch up with your blogs as soon as I can and also post a longer entry. I'm sort of feeling lost with the new year approaching and me moving soon, and me trying to avoid contacting the professor but also needing to contact him for work...I'm so confused. I need to sort out my head and work out what I'm going to do next. I'm scared. 

I really missed you all, and to my new followers, or to anyone really. If you want me to follow your blog, just message me. I can't work out who I am following because blogger doesn't seem to tell me of all the blog updates. 

I hope to have some good news for you all on the weight loss front soon! 

accidental intervention

Well if I'm completely honest with myself and all of you right now, I'd have to say that when I set of to go into work today, I had every intention of killing myself. I was going to go in and just sit there for a bit, collecting my thoughts, and then go down to the railway and wait for a train. I was dressed all in black, even my horrific black leggings that show off my HUGE thighs perfectly.

I don't really know what came over, I just had enough of everything and faced with the prospect of seeing my parents when they arrived home from work, I just decided fuck it all. So I left before they arrived home and told my grandparents I was going to work.

Then I arrive at work and set myself up in my little room, I get myself some tea and I see immediately that the professor is in his office. I avoid him. I don't want to see him (but I did want to, so badly). I'm sitting in my room, listening carefully. I hear him leave his office and I decide, I have to just say hi. So I walk out of my room and I see him, waiting for the lift.

[As I am writing this post, I find myself crying. I don't know why I should cry. There is so much emotion tied up in this. So much emotion in every encounter I have with the professor. So much fear, and hope and love.]

And he was surprised to see me, gave me a hug and a kiss and we had a little chat. Nothing out of the ordinary. He told me that I looked too thin, and that it is so easy for young women to become anorexic, especially if there is stress. He said that right now, I don't look anorexic but my waist was starting to look very small. (And this is the repeating tale of how I feel super thin because he says so, only then I look in the mirror to find I'm still fat.)

He asks me how long I will be around this time, and says that it is good to have me back. And now comes the accidental intervention. He asks me about my love life. I, of course, balk insanely at this and end up as a blushing mess. And he says to me, "you're the only family I've got...so I have to ask."

This little comment, coupled with others he's made in the past, just makes me wonder. When we went to lunch, he said that the staff there must think his daughters are getting more Asian and that they'll have to say that they bought me in Asia. He always offers me a ride and says he's just being a concerned parent. He ran through the rain to his car to pick me up so that I wouldn't get wet. He says he gets worried about me when I don't look chirpy. And now this.

In a way, it makes me feel sad for him. But in another way, it makes me incredibly happy. His lack of children and my desire for a functional father makes a potent combination. On some level I am reluctant to accept the possibility that he might feel some sort of fatherly affection for me. I'm so hurt by my own father, I don't want to make myself vulnerable in the same way again. I'm so afraid that I'm imagining it all and it's all in my head and that I'll find out some awful truth that he really doesn't like me.

The professor is so moody, I never really want to waltz into his office because I'm so scared he'll yet at me, and I'll just lose the plot and step out in front of a bus or train. But excepting the time he actually did yell at me, he's always been good to me, regardless of his mood. So I guess in that sense my fear is rather unfounded, but still it persists.

After this encounter with the professor, I just thought, I can't do this. I can't step out in front of a train now. What if what he says is true. If he does consider me as his family, my self inflicted demise could really upset him. And I can't bear the thought of him being upset. I'm so fond of him, and he's such a dear person to me, I can't upset him like that. And he really did seem happy to have me back. So I drove home, and tucked myself up in bed, which is where I am now.

Funny to think, he'll never know that a simple sentence from him saved me from a date with the head of a train. But it's something I'll always remember. The day I almost did it.