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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.