general medicine

2012 has ushered in a general feeling of confusion and despair and cold determination for me. Thank you to my Sammy (the gorgeous Jude Law) and ZapFire for your comments on my last post. I've missed you girls so much! 

I think my brain has been processing some stuff since that last post full of not much. Thought number 1, as always, is about my weight and food. I have to stop eating. There are no two ways about that. I weigh 124lbs and so that means I put on 5lbs in S'pore. This doesn't really surprise me since in one of those 5 days, my parents and I ate $65 of Haagen-Dazs. That was probably 2lbs right there. 

At any rate, I'm taking part in a study that means I will have to be on a vegan diet for 2 weeks. So that should help me kick start the restricting and fasting and weight loss. That combined with the gym. I almost can't wait to get started. I bought some clothes that are too tight for me in anticipation of weight loss so I kind of have to lose the weight because I want to wear the clothes!

Thought number 2 is about work. My papers are such a big mess in my head that I won't bore you with the details. I start work on Jan 4. With general medicine. Last time I did general medicine it was an unmitigated disaster so I approach it with a certain trepidation but also some determination that I will do better than last time. Once I graduate as a doctor, I will spend 2 years doing pretty much just general medicine so I better get good at it and get good at it fast. Part of me is looking forward to doing some solid general medicine before I give up the human body to focus on the human eye, part of me doesn't want to do anything general ever again. 

Thought number 0.5 or rather, thought infinity is about the professor. He's always haunting the back of my mind. I will email him and my other colleague about one of our projects and not mention anything else. I've been solidly praying (I'm not religious at all so when I pray you know things are serious. The only other time I pray is during take off and landing because I'm terrified of flying.) that he's somehow forgotten about everything that I said. Every day I regret telling him all that stuff. I wish I'd just sucked it up and kept it in and then I wouldn't be in this colossal mess. 

Tomorrow I will be visiting friends and the day after that I will move out. Then I will plan my diet and exercise. I swear to you all that I will be 50kg/100lbs by the end of this month, if not faster. I have to get there, I just have to. I'm so sick of being this weight and this fat, I really, really am. I want to be thin, I want to see bones, surely that's not too much to ask. 

I will be bringing my scales down to monitor everything. I will be thin. I will be. 

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! 

holiday thinspo!!!!

The holiday season is a difficult time for everyone. And I'm currently binging my face off in Singapore but I set this post to post itself when I'm on holiday. To remind you all that there is a common goal that we are all shooting for and to work hard for it! 

When I ate that little strawberry tart, one of the girls said "a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips" and I almost spat it out again. I would have if I wasn't in front of everyone. 

My favourite motto: I only feel beautiful when I'm hungry. 

Enjoy the thinspo ladies! Work hard, see you all when I get back! 

happy christmas girls! memories are made of this

Happy Christmas girls! Thank you all so much for the wonderful support you all have shown me throughout this year. I really do wish you all the very best for this holiday season and the 2012. I look forward to moving onwards with you in our journey together to thin perfection.

I've been moaning and groaning and crying on this blog so much recently that I thought I'd celebrate this season with a really pleasant memory. I sincerely hope that each one of you will be so lucky as to experience a happy, safe, warm moment like this. I love you girls. 

He smiles at me. A small smile, not his usual teasing one, but one that is somehow softer around the edges. His eyes strike fear into the very heart of me but they are utterly magnetic. That odd shade of blue that can look ice cold or filled with warmth depending on his mood, once I make eye contact, I can't bring myself to break it. Somehow he is standing beside me now. I've been so locked onto his eyes that I didn't notice him move from behind his desk. 

My heart beats with a dull thud, thud, thud. The blood slowly creeps around my body and I don't feel very much except a paralysing fear about what the future holds. I've never put my trust in anybody but this man holds the most trust that I can bring myself to give to anyone. It's not enough to take away my fear, but it's enough to stop me running out of the room and never coming back. 

His smiling figure is right in front of me now. When he is this close to me everything else just fades into the background. I'm no longer aware of the room, the secretaries gossiping behind the closed door, the cool breeze blowing through the open window, the awards that cover the walls, everything fades away. 

I wish I could fall into the blueness of his eyes, into that blue paradise of ice and fire where nothing really matters and none of my issues exist. His expression softens further still. He opens his arms and I step into them. I love resting my head against his chest and not being able to put my arms all the way around him. I love feeling his arms wrap around me, holding me up. I love the roughness of his stubble on my face. Right now, everything about him makes me feel safe. It's a rare feeling for me. 

I look up at him and he brings his hand up to my face and brushes my fringe out of my eyes. We'll get through this together, whispers the deep and melodic Scottish voice, I want to look back at this with you in five years time and see this as a dark period that we got through. 

breaking my resolve

There is an uncontrollable bitterness rising in my chest, an unbelievable pettiness laced with sour shots of jealousy and revulsion and hate. I want to vomit it out but I've only had a mini strawberry tart today and that was many hours ago. It took me an hour to eat and everyone was staring at me. Thank God the professor wasn't there. 

If find myself leaving the room when Alex and YW walk in. I can't look at them anymore. I can't deal with that right now. I've got a much more bitter pill to swallow. 

Her name is Izzy. Izzy, baby girl, why did it have to be you? She's older than me, BMI of 17 something. Thin, beautiful, witty, cynical, intelligent, ambitious. She's one of my best friends at work. Together with Steph, we are the dream team. We are sitting at her desk, chatting, laughing, being stupid. 

I wonder what the professor and his wife got me? I don't even understand the question. Not until I see her gesture to a Christmas present. She opens it and peers inside. The rest of that conversation is not something that I recall. 

How can I have been so stupid? How did I not see what I was really doing? How did I get so desperate? How did I break my own resolve?

I presented myself to a doctor. To my boss. To the head of department. To the one person in this whole world who has any power over my future. I said, look at me, poor little me, look at how sick I am, look at how I'm hurting. I asked him to fix me. And now he is going to try. 

How did I not put myself in his shoes? If I was looking at a patient who was exactly like me, I'd do everything I possibly could to try and heal her. To help her. I would work all the extra hours, I would bully all the other departments, I'd do what I could to get her what she needed. It doesn't mean I feel anything for her. She is my patient, I'm doing my job. 

Now I realise I was being stupid. I was ignorant, running away with my daydreams, floating around on clouds of hope and love and all those things that don't really exist. How did I not see that I am a patient? I am a patient and nothing more. I am a patient and I've stupidly checked myself into the hospital that is the mind of the professor and I don't know how to discharge myself. 

I know why I've done it. For a brief moment I felt special. I felt like I mattered to someone. I felt like I made an impact on someone's life. What folly. I'm not usually this dumb. People see what they want to see. And I saw what I have so badly yearned for for so long. 

Izzy loves her Christmas present. It's such a good present, I almost wish I'd thought of it and bought it for her. Am I just jealous that I didn't get one too? Maybe. But the truth hits me like a wrecking ball. I smile weakly at her but I'm not really seeing her. I see reality. 

I see myself standing before my own eyes in a hospital gown, hair disheveled, skin broken and bruised, walking around with a drip in my arm down the hospital corridor. There stands the professor, with my chart in his hand, checking my vitals and my weight. Another patient on a very long list of patients. That's all I am, another person on a long list of people who need help. How could any doctor refuse me? 

I go to say goodbye to the professor. And I say goodbye. It's a word I never use because it sounds so final. But I mean it. He tells me to be good and to contact him when I'm back from my holiday. I nod, but I'm not going to do it. I don't want to see him unless I must for work. I refuse to be another name on a patient list. I don't want help. I know what I want to do, I don't need someone to hold my hand. 

I see 2012 stretch before me. Long work hours, no food and a gym membership. I can see the perfect me. Ribs and spine and hips. Doctor. 

I step on my scale. 119.2lbs. The lowest I've been this year. I leap off, jumping in happiness. A lot has happened but little has changed. Still, nothing compares to the feeling of losing weight. My abdomen hurts from the hunger but I have no appetite. Maybe I will see 118lbs soon. 

On Christmas day I fly to Singapore. To binge on food and clothing. Then I'm back for work, gym, fasting. I will lose the weight. I will lose the weight. I will lose the weight. How could I be so stupid. Nothing can break my resolve. 90lbs. What wouldn't I give to see you now? Still, one step at a time. As long as the scale goes down, that's all that matters. 

losing it COMPLETELY

Firstly, thank you to Princess perfection for your lovely comment on my last blog entry. Secondly, I deeply apologise for the hundreds and thousands of blog entries I've been doing lately. I don't normally post every day (or more often than that), but recently a LOT has been happening in my emotional world for some reason. 

It would appear that I'm sometimes seized by moments of absolute madness. Such as this morning when the professor caught me off guard with a meeting. I was just popping by his office and popped my head round to say hi. Which quickly turned into tea and a discussion about my eating. From my last post you can probably tell that my weekend didn't go that well. And I told him this. 

Which of course leads to discussion and I cried in front of him again. Apparently I'm making a habit of this and I'm not proud. I swore I would not ever cry in front of a supervisor and I've cried in front of this one twice. When my self esteem is being discussed, I just disintegrate. He tells me that several people have been talking to him about my weight. I don't see a difference at all. In my eyes, I still look exactly the same. I'm amazed that people think I've lost enough weight for them to concern themselves over it. 

He asks me if I have a boyfriend. I balk at the question. He knows the answer already. 

"You should have a boyfriend. I would have thought that someone as pretty and intelligent and caring as you would have had lots of boyfriends. Do you not think you're pretty enough to have a boyfriend?"

The question sends me reeling backwards. It's not one I expected. Also, it took my best friend a good 5 years to work out that as the reason for me not wanting a relationship so for the professor to just spit it out like that stunned me. I'm still stunned. And a bit worried about how easy I am to read. 

He is the only person I can't hold it together for. The way he looks at me just calls to some part of me and everything just comes flooding out. At some point in the conversation I feel like he's getting far too worked up about my eating. QUICK! DISTRACT HIM! is what my brain tells me to do. Without thinking, I say that my eating isn't a big deal, it's not what worries me the most. BIG MISTAKE. 

The expression on the professor's face becomes totally unreadable and he stops mid sentence. He demands to know what worries me more. The new look on his face makes me literally squirm in my seat. I'm writhing around, twisting my hands, not looking at him. Slowly, and with much trepidation, all I can manage to say is:

"Well...there is the self harm...the cutting."

Something in the professor snaps upon hearing this. I can see in his eyes that he has lost all self control and he looks at me in complete disbelief. He doesn't say anything and in my utter folly I try to fill the silence and start rambling on about it and how it's not that much of a big deal. I talk about cutting my forearm and he immediately grabs it and looks for scars. I show him the cuts on my thighs and the heart of my chest. I talk about the cuts on my abdomen that I can't show him because of my dress. 

Now there is a completely new dimension to his expression, which I'm studying with my heart in my mouth. If I didn't know better I would call it panic. 

"That's crazy. That's absolutely crazy. It's just not normal at all. What's to say that next time you won't do something stupid like cut your wrists? You need help, you need to get help now!" 

I'm scared now I've never seen him like this. He's not exactly angry, although it almost sounds like it. But his voice, his face, his manner, he's lost all self control now. If I were an outsider looking in, or if I were watching two other people in the exact same situation, I would say that he was rather scared and panicking and blurting out the frightening thoughts that raced across his mind because the shock had eliminated his ability to filter them. But I can't quite believe this of the professor. What he says next upsets me no end. It's along the lines of, my behaviour is completely mental and sick and he can't work with anyone this sick. There is so much judgement in it that I don't even bother trying to explain. 

He's almost climbing over his desk to look at my cuts more clearly, pointing out parts where I have cut deeper. Slowly but surely, some of his composure returns. I start working in another city next year on Jan 4. That weekend, I am coming back and he is going to take me on a long walk to discuss how I am going to get help. He's forcing me to get therapy. 


"People look back [at suicides] and say, oh that thing they did was a cry for help and wish that they'd done something about it. Well I'm hearing your cry for help and I'm going to do something."


Man, he's going to be PISSED when I kill myself. 

I'm not entirely sure how to interpret all this. But I'm certainly beyond the point of no return now. The professor knows absolutely everything now. I don't even want to think about what he thinks of me now. He clearly thinks I'm an absolute nutcase. He can't possibly want to work with me now. I'm just waiting for him to wash his hands of me soon. He can throw me into therapy and then disown me. 

That's how I lost it completely. 

heaven is a cloud of laxies

It's 3am and I've been pretending to sleep for 2 hours now. I might have drifted off for a few minutes but the pain in my bloated and ever suffering abdomen won't let me have any peace. Suddenly a bolt of pain shoots through me and I'm jolted upright. My actions are automatic and from muscle memory. Without turning on my lights, I leap out of bed, open my door and sneak into my bathroom. 

This time is worse than all the other times put together. This time it's many days of not going to the bathroom, many binges and horrendous bloating and a fast approaching department Christmas party that have me popping the laxies. 4 of them, double the highest recommended dose and boy are they working. I can't walk in straight lines. I try to move quietly, so that I don't stumble but it's hard. I've never felt so dizzy in my life. My head is spinning, spinning, the room feels like it's sailing rough seas with me clambering around desperately trying to get to the bathroom. My eyes, they can't focus on anything, not even after I turn the bathroom light on. 

As I sit on the toilet, I grab onto the towel rail in an effort to steady myself. The pain is unbearable now. I feel like I'm going to pop. The strange thing is, I also really, really want to vomit. I know there is nothing to vomit but I am nauseated as all hell, it must be because of the dizziness. 

There is no peace for the next 3 hours. Just pain and more pain and more pain with a large serving of nausea. Still, I step on the scale and what read 123lbs a few hours ago now says 120lbs. I yearn for the laxies to keep working. I want to see 119lbs again. I'm convinced my scale is fucked up. I need to get on the one in my parents' room. The analogue scale, I trust it more. Still, at this time of the morning, that's not possible. 

I crawl into bed again at 6am. Exhausted. But still in pain and still nauseous. I'm just grateful that the intensity of everything has died down. I roll into a ball and force myself to ignore the pain. I'm so tired, I feel like the only thing to make me feel better is sleep. 

When I wake up, I'm only feeling marginally better. Even so, I'm forced on a long drive with the family. It's almost Christmas, we like to drive and eat junk food and do that all day during the holiday season. Normally this is a fun time to catch up but today it's hell. I'm staring at the road like I believe that will somehow distract me from my bowels. They are squirming. They feel inflamed and angry. Every now and then pain will wash over me. I still want to vomit but I have to eat so that my parents don't suspect anything. It's a miserable day. I feel like I've given myself ulcerative colitis with all the laxies. 

I hate them so much. But I love them. They make me feel like I'm trying. They make me feel like I'm paying my dues for all my horrible binges. That whole episode was almost 12 hours ago now but I still don't feel right. I'm hoping that tomorrow is better. I have bought a lovely, expensive dress for the Christmas party and I don't want to be feeling this bad when I'm wearing it. 

I had a mini-break down while dress hunting. It's so hard to find anything that I look good in. And I have to look good. It will be in front of the department. I risk being completely overdressed but they are used to me being like that. I want people to think my dress is pretty, even if they will never be able to think that I am pretty. Ah, I am so jealous of those blessed with beauty. It's something no amount of weight loss will give me. I will always be butt ugly. 

I still look bloated. It's all fat. I've definitely put on weight and I hate it. I'm looking forward to Jan 4th when I move out of this house. I will start fasting again and going to the gym. It's always easier when I'm in another city. Then the weight loss will start! The professor will forget about me, I am sure of that. And I will be able to drop as much weight as quickly as I can muster. 

Thank you to Zapfire, Christina and Sammy for your lovely comments. Yeah, blogger is doing something weird, it doesn't always update the blogs I follow either. It's really annoying! I miss out on important news! 

This is definitely an odd place to be. I'm rather scared because if by some fluke the professor doesn't forget, and I don't get any "better", I'm scared he's going to do something about it. I know that it's probably in my best interests...but I don't want anyone to stop me trying to lose weight. 

Also, about the depression, he says that about 1/5 of medical students are depressed. When they start working, that number rises to 1/3 to 1/2 of new doctors being depressed. He doesn't want me to start my first job without sorting out the depression. Obviously, he doesn't know I'm actually suicidal and I'm actually counting on that job tipping me over the edge. The speed with which he came up with an action plan last time scares me. Why do I talk myself into these corners? At the time I was crying because I felt cared for. But now, I don't want any of it.