Sync'd up?

You know how women "sync up" when they live together or work together closely? Where our TOM's all start happening at the same time? Are we women of the diet blog world syncing up? I've been catching up on blogs and finding new one's and oddly enough, nearly every freakin' one of them is talking about Aunt Flo or TOM right now, myself included. It's like we're in some odd little sorority of sorts. Luckily for the men reading our blogs, it will all pass at once and you'll have three weeks of blog posts where we don't fixate on all things bloaty.

Oh, Bodybugg, how you spin me.

What's the tally, ho?

Down 2.8.

Sweet! Take that, Aunt Flo.

On another note, I thought I'd delve into what I've learned after one week of using the Bodybugg. The most important thing I've learned? I've been starving myself. Not so much during my months of hibernation that I partake in on occasion (read: most of the time), but more so during the times that I think I'm on track. Shall I explain? Good.

Our bodies burn a certain amount of calories just existing. We use a certain amount of energy just breathing, pumping blood, digesting, looking pretty, etc. It's a wonderful lil' thing known as BMR (Basal Metabolic Rate). The more you weigh, the more your body has to work to do these simple tasks so the more calories you burn just, well, existing. Most of us know this. We also know that if you start moving you're burning more calories. Simple. The more you move, the more calories you burn. Also simple. With me so far? Good.

If you've been trying to lose weight for any length of time or done much reading on it, you know that when you exercise consistently you start raising your metabolism. You start burning calories faster and more efficiently burning the fuel (food) that you put into your body. What I didn't realize, is just how quickly that change can take place. In my mind this was a long drawn out process over months and months of hard work. Well, look at these screenshots from my Bodybugg readings.

I started working out on Monday of last week so I had already started the boost before I got my Bodybugg. In these readings, though, I went to the gym the first three days and then again yesterday (the last reading). My workouts weren't exactly the same, but they were not that different from day to day. I did about 45 minutes of cardio each of those days and very light resistance on all but Wednesday I think it was. You can see that my burn for the day gradually increased despite the workout being the same because I was being consistent and it kept my calorie burn high. Then, on Friday, it was still high enough to meet my daily burn requirements even though I didn't workout; however, it decreased more every day I didn't workout.

Here's where starving comes in. Look at Thursday. I burned 4,430 calories that day. If you're on some crazy 1,200 calorie diet and burning 4,430 calories a day your body is going to think it's starving. Maybe not at first, at first you'll drop pounds like a mofo, but eventually your body is going to say, "WTF, yo? 1,200? Did you get picked for the cast of Survivor and not tell me? I can't even pump your blood for 1,200 let alone keep you breathing. I'm obv. gonna have to stockpile that shit because I PPH (pink puffy heart) you and don't want you to keel over." And so it begins. You stop losing weight and you whine (and perhaps even wine) and workout harder burning even more calories and eating less and still don't lose what you think you should. At this point you're lucky your hair isn't falling out because you're verging on anorexic and still...hardly losing. Then you eat a burger and fries and lose 5 pounds and don't understand it.

Eat. Eat carbs, eat fat, eat protein, eat fiber. Get your calories in SENSIBLY. Don't boycott something because your body needs all of it. If you workout harder you'll need more food. Whether a Pinto or a Porsche you still need fuel to run.

Note: I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV. I am also often wrong, but don't tell me so because this information, even if false, just might keep me on track for a while.

Wyatt, I am rolling.

I love the movie Tombstone. Mostly I love Doc Holliday. I think we have a common bond and thy name is sarcasm. We are also, apparently, rolling. In my case, however, it's because I am retaining more water than a caravan of camels. I feel like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man. I'm all bloaty and achey and blah. My feet and ankles feel all tight and my pants are tight(er). It's an eff'd up pill to swallow my first week back on the covered wagon. Will throw my weigh in off entirely. My first weigh in after starting the bodybugg campaign and I can't get an accurate assessment. Lame. Anyway, weigh in tomorrow instead of today because I got my bodybugg on Tuesday and that's when I can record the info on the website. Will face the music, guns blazing, because I, too...am your huckleberry.

Escape!

Today is Easter. For those that believe, the end of the story results in a miraculous escape. Mine is less so when it comes to miracles, but I have officially escaped to my room from my family. Holidays have become a giant pain in my ass and today is no exception. Actually, there have been far worse, but my patience is particularly thin today and my nerves are frayed. The ol' family dynamics have never been stellar and I'm at a point in my life where I am just soooo over all the bullshit.

By bullshit I mean the negativity, the arguing, the bossiness, the overbearing personalities, the way they all talk over me when I try to say something and then bitch when I've opted to just sit silent waiting for the day to be over. It's all tolerable on a normal day, but when all the storms collide on a special occasion it's just unbearable...and loud. And I'm still trying to figure out why it is that having a set of nuts precludes you from having to help clean up. So, here I am, in my room, getting a few moments of peace because apparently I WAY can't handle it today. My sister-in-law can't either. I know she dreads all this chaos as much as I do.

Per the norm, my mom is the only one excluded from this list. My mom is the only consistently mellow person in this family. My mom is a saint. She deals with us all with this unwavering patience. She is also the only one that shows the least bit of interest in my life and what I'm doing at school. Everyone else seems fresh out of give a fuck and seems almost irritated if I try to show them something I've been working on. So, now I don't.

It all made me eat a whole lot of cake. It's diet cake made with diet coke, but cake nonetheless. This weekend hasn't been all that great on the calorie burning front. I was at school on Friday from 9am until 8pm. I was supposed to be there until 9pm, but my head was going to explode and I had to get out of there and try to get home. It was a headache for the ages and I had no advil or anything with me. I almost had to pull over on the drive home. I laid on the couch and started crying it hurt so bad. I was freezing, too, and then it was gone. It left as quickly as it came. It was scary. I've been getting a lot of headaches lately because of something that's wrong with my neck, but this was different and on a whole nother level. Yesterday I didn't meet my intake to outtake deficit because I didn't move much. I was too busy doing all the homework I ignored all week trying to be the perfect diet girl. It's ok, though, because I was well over on the other days. I'm stressed. I'm cranky. I'm bloaty and fat. How many calories would I burn punching someone in my family in the neck?

Buggin

I've been wearing my Bodybugg for 24 hours now and so far I can tell you with the utmost confidence...this relationship is going places. I woke up this morning and it told me that I burned 1,000 calories while I slept. My first thought was, "Now that's exercise I can get behind." My second thought was, "How can I sleep more vigorously?" It's making all of this like a game for me. I have the digital display on the watch band so I can constantly see how many calories I'm burning and steps I'm taking without having to plug it into a computer. It brings out the competitor in me. It constantly reminds me to take more steps and move more just by being there. Tack on the fact that I refuse to see a calorie surplus when I track all of my information on the website and you've got a new kind of addict. And this is an addiction I can live with.

I've gone to the gym the last three days and the workouts are gradually getting better. The first day I was pretty blah. It had been a while. Yesterday my lower back hurt so bad by the time I walked IN the gym that after 10 minutes on the treadmill I had to stop and go to the recumbent bike. After 25 minutes there I went back to the treadmill and tried again...better. Today? I did the treadmill for 30 minutes, part of which was at a faster speed. I was pumping my arms. I had a lil fire in my step. I only did 15 minutes on the recumbent bike, but I was pedaling fast and at a higher level. Everyday is progress.

Here is what I learned about weighing 370 during the few weeks I visited: I did not enjoy it and I will not be returning. It's my body's breaking point. I've lived in the 340-360 range for a significant period of time and, though not a picnic, there is a drastic difference between that and 370. I feel like a Macy's Day Parade balloon just listing back and forth above all the little people below because I am SO BLOATED. I get heart burn/indigestion all the time probably because of the 10 extra pounds pushing against my stomach, esophagus, etc. My clothes think I've become some sort of Incredible Hulk type superheroess because I keep threatening to bust seams. If I had gained one more pound I might have put someone's eye out when I popped a button. Everything is harder. Everything takes longer. Everything sucks. I got on the scale at the gym again today (no pic because it's not my weekly weigh in day) and...I'm down about 4 (even with a couple pounds of bodybugg on me). Hopefully that number will still hold true post Easter.

It's official

I am the fattest I've ever been. Only by a couple pounds, but I am, nonetheless. I didn't even need a scale to tell me so. I knew it. I FELT it. I have never felt this bad before...physically. Mentally I'm ok, actually, because I'm in the right frame of mind for it. If I would have seen that number a few weeks ago my response would be different. Right now? My response is...don't get comfortable 370's, you won't be here tomorrow.

Simple Math to start the term

3500 calories = 1 pound

To lose one pound a week, I need to burn 500 more calories a day than I eat.

To lose two pounds a week, I need to burn 1000 more calories a day than I eat.

To lose three pounds a week, I need to burn 1500 more calories a day than I eat.

I think you see where this is going.

Burn, Baby, burn.

It all starts tomorrow!

My Food Revolution

I've been waiting with much anticipation for Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution. I watched it tonight and Holy Fuck! Here are a few of my comments while watching:

"You've got to be EFFING kidding me."

"Oh. My. God." and

"That is effing disgusting."

I'm about an hour and a half into it at this point and starting to feel like my poor Jamie would have better luck selling flip flops to Eskimos in winter. Why are these people so daggum obstinate? So he's a strange Brit rollin through your town trying to make some changes. He's trying to keep your kids from dying, not pass a Health Care bill for God sake. These people fought him since he first set foot in that town. They questioned, doubted, eye-rolled. It was insane how hard they were on him.

Anyway, at one point he pulled some kids aside and showed them what chicken nuggets were REALLY made of. He cut off all sane people parts we meat eaters really go for. The breasts, thighs, legs, wings. Then he took the carcass of that there chicken and some skin for good measure and threw it into a food processor. Yes, the bones, too. Pureed chicken bits. It was revolting. I don't think I'll ever look at another chicken nugget the same. Which is hard, what with it being all my nephews ever want to eat.

He went into a classroom of six year olds and none of them could name most of the fruits and vegetables that Jamie held up for them. You know, really difficult things like celery for the love of God. They sure as hell knew what french fries were though. These kids ate pizza for breakfast and potatoes made from some sort of dehydrated cement disguised as food for lunch (with the aforementioned nuggets). I was jaw droppingly amazed by it and completely saddened. But, me being a true opportunist, I recognize that this show and the nutritional demise of our youth could help, well, me. If the level of disgust I am feeling right now can stick with me maybe I can start eating better. I mean, come on, if Jamie's slap in America's face makes me look at highly processed food and feel nauseated this is win win in my book. Maybe it will keep me away from a drive through window more easily than my own willpower allows. Every little bit helps.

As an aside, I told Mom today that I am going to be cooking dinner Monday through Thursday and dad can deal with it. He can cook on weekends. Fridays I'll be at school until 9pm so I've asked that his most gluttonous concoctions be then so that I don't really have to worry about anything other than Saturday and Sunday. I'll decide what we're having over the weekend and mom can get the groceries for the upcoming meals. Mom is trying to lose weight, too, so as long as I'm not getting too crazy on the groceries...we have an accord.

Oh, and Alice the lunch lady? Open your mind and shut your mouth.

I'm an addict

I've always known that I have an unhealthy relationship with food¹. I don't think, until now, that I've ever fully accepted that it's an addiction. I've often debated the food addiction vs. drug/alcohol addiction. It is my belief that food addiction is far harder to conquer than drug/alcohol addiction. I can't remove food from my life like I can cigs or vodka. I have to eat, I don't have to smoke or drink. If I was found passed out with powder on my face I would be judged less and probably applauded by some if it was from cocaine and not donuts. A fat girl bellied up to a pint of Ben & Jerry's disgusts more people than a cracked out tweaker slapping an arm for a vein. There are a lot of drug and alcohol addicts that function in life quite well without anyone knowing there is a problem. I cannot hide my problem. There are no eye drops that make me look thin. For me, even if I keep all the bad stuff out of the house, there are 25 dealers (some open 24 hours a day) within a mile of my house.

Here is how we are similar. When we are jonesing for our drug of choice we get anxious. If I start craving something I will start feeling tense and I will be consumed by it. We all know what we're doing to our bodies, health, and lives...we just don't care. At least not enough to stop the destructive behavior. Sometimes we get our fixes without even being aware of what we're doing. We sometimes frantically get our high, and then the second we are done, we are overcome with debilitating guilt...until we're not, then we do it again. We often try to quit cold-turkey, checking ourselves into rehab or joining a gym and writing blog entries about how different it is this time. We might even mean it. We try. We might even have a brief stint of success...until we don't. Most of the time, our family and friends don't understand why we can't just fix it. My sister often says "I know you can do it. You've done it before." She's referring to the few times that I've lost 40 or so pounds. I appreciate her faith, but what she fails to realize is, with every "relapse" it gets ten times harder. I lose a little piece of me every time I fail and I fail every day. She and I don't have the same relationship with food². If my sister struggles with her weight I believe it has more to do with time than a full-fledged addiction³.

What I know about me, for now, is that, like most addicts, I will never conquer this beast. I will fight it every day for the rest of my life. I will wake up every day and have to make a conscious effort to do the right thing. If an alcoholic with five years of sobriety can relapse after one beer, I can easily do the same thing. I need to start looking at food differently. I need to exercise every day. I need to accept that this is how it is and stop feeling like it's not fair. I need to be addicted to a healthy lifestyle. To help with this process I am going to introduce another addiction...lil electronic gadgets. I'm getting a Bodybugg. You know, the little armband things they wear on Biggest Loser that helps you keep track of whether or not you're burning more calories than you're eating? I've wanted one since Biggest Loser started. Now is the time. I'm getting hooked up next week. I was online until about 2am looking at the site and starting to set things up. Not quite sure what all is involved, but I think you know you'll be hearing about it.

¹ I like to state all things blindingly obvious.

² I know this because she often has ice cream in her freezer with ice crystals on it. This is unheard of in my world. It is also verging on grounds for being excommunicated from the family.

³ She reads this so she might just tell me to blow it out my ass.

In the land of suck...I am Queen.

Who else is tired of my bullshit? I've had this blog for what? Six years? All of my yo-yoing, teeter-tottering, waivering and whining has resulted in a weight loss of nada/zilch/zero/nothing/goose egg. Sweet Jesus I suck.

Last week was the end of Winter term for me. On one of the last days a classmate happened to park close to me and because we were allowed to arrive later than normal, parking was a nightmare. We started walking up the hill at what would be an average pace for most people. As the incline increased I knew there was no way I would make it to the top with him in any state other than one of complete and utter disgust. I knew I wouldn't be able to breathe and he'd be like "WTF and stuff." This term I gained back anything I lost last term. Fail. I quickly grabbed my phone out of my pocket, interrupted the conversation and said, "Crap, I gotta take this call. I'll see you in there." Lame. I was embarrassed that I even had to do it, but I would have been mortified if I hadn't.

When it comes to excuses I reign supreme. I could give you a new one every single day of the week. I'm too busy with school, I don't feel good (no shit, you're 360+ pounds), it's too hard, I have bangs now and I can't workout with bangs...I think you see where this is going. It's bullshit. All of it. Every excuse is completely and utterly pulled right out of my ass. Well, it's enema time (no, not literally, ew). No more excuses.

Here is what I know. I have spent the last two years completely focused on a goal. Absolutely nothing could get me off track. I've had tunnel vision like you read about and could not be stopped. I gave up my social life, for the most part, and I did almost nothing but work towards the end result...my degree. I graduate with an Associates in Graphic Design in June (but will continue taking a few web design classes). What if I would have applied the same consistent focus to losing weight? What if I would have buckled down and worked as hard to get healthy as I did to get a degree? Why do I care more about the career I'll have in the future than I do about the health I'll have? I have worked harder in the last two years than I have in my entire life so I am not afraid of putting in the work. I have kept my eye on the prize for two years so it's not that I'm just easily distracted by shiny things. So what's the deal? When I have 8am classes I get up at 5am to get there in time. There have been terms when I am at school from 8am to almost 9pm a couple days a week. Terms when I'm there most of the day, every day and doing homework all night and on the weekends. My life has been graphic design all day, all the time. And yet I can't eat the right thing or get any real form of exercise? Fail.

I once suggested that I should treat all of this as if it were one of my classes since school apparently means more to me than anything. Classes still got in the way. Here's what's on tap for next term (which starts Monday). The only design class I have is my portfolio class. Yes, we spend hours upon hours every Friday working on our portfolios. I stacked my classes in a way that this term is cake. Then, after that class, I volunteer in the design lab. I will be on campus from 9am to 9pm. All of my other classes (three of them) are online classes, which means I fit them in as I see fit. I know. In THEORY, this should make getting in exercise and such much easier. Online classes, however, still take a lot of time because I am essentially teaching myself how to do all of this. We shall see.

Yesterday I took some of my tax return and mama got a new pair of shoes. She also got a few new things to workout in, but hasn't actually tried them on yet. Regardless, here is my plan of attack. Most classes I take are 3 credits and I spend 3 hours in class twice a week. For Kelly 101 it will be 1.5 hours four time a week. That means exercise. Either in the gym or going for a walk or a hike or something involving consistent movement. Monday through Thursday at a scheduled time. I very rarely let anything keep me from class, so...very little should keep me from my exercise! Homework? Natch. By Monday I will be caught up on the blogs I follow (it's been way too long and I apologize) and I will keep myself updated on them. Homework is also where the healthy eating comes in...meal prep. This term ends mid June, just after I turn 34. I will be graduating. I will be starting the next chapter of my life and have no idea what life has in store for me. I hope to hell I'm facing all of it significantly lighter.

So, to any of you still reading this (bless your hearts), I'm inviting you to be my professors of fat. Keep on my ass. Give me assignments. Grade me. Make me your bitch! Come on. You know you want to.

Filtered for your enjoyment

I'm ordering one of these today. Don't try to stop me. My first step at fat recovery is H2O consumption to the max and I need a new pretty to help me keep my eye on the prize. I'm quite sure that if I bring another water bottle into this house my mom will shove it up my arse, but I'm doing it anyway. I've gotten quite persnickety when it comes to drinking tap water and don't like to buy a ton of bottled water. It's not so much because of my carbon footprint as it is about being judged by those that fixate on their carbon footprint. Ok ok, it's a little bit about my carbon footprint...don't judge me.

It's hard to lose weight when...

your ass is planted firmly in front of a computer all day. And if not in front of a computer then at least at a table working on an illustration. I'm currently working on an illustration for a class that is going to take a minimum of 25 hours. How do I know this? Because I've already spent five hours and don't even have a quarter of it done. See...


This is a technique called stipple (tons of dots clustered together) and this illustration is due on Monday. I have always loved stipple, but the pressure is on right now. Aside from choosing the toughest technique to use on it (we were also allowed to use crosshatch and/or line), I have chosen an intense photo by a local photographer and promised him that I would give him a copy of the illustration when I'm done. It is mass critical that I don't screw this up. With that much left to go and those kind of time contraints, that affords me a lot of opportunity to screw the pooch (so to speak). There is a pint of Ben & Jerry's in the freezer if the pressure gets to be too much. Hee.

And now for a shameless plug. I have been working on establishing an identity for my freelance business (the one I hope to live off of when school is done) and I even have a blog for it now (as well as facebook, twitter and its very own website). If any of you weight loss hotties have a secret crush on art and design perhaps you'd like to follow that one as well. Now you can stalk me in multiple places.

Pixel Dust

Pixel Dust Blog

She bangs! She bangs!

I got my hair cut and colored today. The coloring part went phenomenally well. As my new hair boy was cutting my hair he said, "When was the last time you had bangs?" Uhhhh? Bangs? That was so circa 1994. I asked if he was making a recommendation and he said he thought it might be just what I needed. Might frame my face well. Might really bring out my eyes. Well, my eyes ARE my best feature so what was a girl to do? He said that he was doing an intense bang study and would continue to ponder. He whipped scissors and sheers out of his gun-belt-esque accessory. He cut, snipped, thinned, and (apparently) pondered. He asked just HOW long ago it had been and I told him I had bangs in high school and I think that was the last time. He made his plea and before I could fully commit to his suggestion my back was turned to the mirror and scissors darted to and fro in front of my eyes. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I could see all the hair resting on the twins. When he was done, he slowly turned me around and...gulp. I look like a 12 year old girl.

So, yeah. Bangs. I am hoping that when I do my hair in the morning I can pull something off that makes me a little more ok with them. In the meantime, I was watching the grammy's tonight (sort of) and THIS commercial came on. Coincidence? I think not! Good times. You know I can't go to the gym looking like this. I can't work out and sweat with bangs. All hair must be pulled back and away from my face. This just won't do. I guess I can't go to the gym. Ah. Drats. She bangs, but more like William Hung than Ricky Martin.

What I do when I do what I do

Thank you to those of you that welcomed me back to the fold with no judgement. Ah hell, thanks to those that welcomed me back WITH judgement. I'll take what I can get.

Since I have no witty weight loss wisdom to spew I thought I'd show you what it is I've been working on today for school. We have a series project in one of my classes. It can be three posters, three ads, three gift cards, a mixture of things. I opted to do a wedding package (invite, rsvp, save the date, etc). I'm not sure just how many pieces mine is going to have...what with me being an over achiever and all, but it only HAS to have three. This is one of the versions of the invite. I have two of my classmates getting married just for shits and giggles.


I've also been working on a group project. I hate group projects. They are designed to see just how long it takes an over achiever to stab a slacker. I am the over achiever and I almost punched the slacker in the neck. He went AWOL for days and hasn't been meeting his deadlines. The whole stupid thing is due on Monday. It's really stressing me out. I some how became the leader of the pack which means most of the pressure is on me to get everyone to give me their stuff. Lesson learned. Let some other ass hat take the lead. Hate. Passionately.

Soooo, that's all I have. Boring, I know...but my life is consumed by fonts, eyeflow, symmetry, hierarchy, and other graphic design related nonsense. OK. OK. I love it desperately, but I'm really ready to be done with the school portion and move on to the work phase of my passion.

Graphic Design made me its bitch...again.

I'm sorry. I suck. Last term was the end all be all of stressful terms. Now I have started Winter term and it should be tamer. I clearly don't love you (or me) the way I do Graphic Design. My clothes were fitting better by the end of the term, now they are not. I don't know what that means as far as numbers because I only weigh in at the gym. Oddly, I can't weigh in at the gym if I never go. Kinda like I can't win the lottery if I never buy a ticket. I'm lame; it's true.

I took the reins, deleted Insertnamehere from my phone after telling him I never wanted to talk to him again, and think of him rarely. Awesome. I was a dating machine over the Christmas break so I've got THAT going for me. I'm working on the website for my freelance business (which will, as suggested by my instructor, have a blog as well...I think we know how well THAT will go). I am going to start scheduling blog time on my damn calendar just so that I can stop being such a slacker. It seems to be the most effective way for me not to completely go AWOL for months at a time. And, blogging keeps me honest(ish) when it comes to the diet. Imagine that.

So, to recap...I'm still in school and I'm still fat. I may or may not still be fierce, but we'll delve into that later. I hope you're all well and don't hate me. And let's not talk about that whole lose 100 pounds by 2010 thing, m'kay? m'kay.

Almost forgot...tally, ho!

349.2 over and out.

The road to hell was paved with good intentions

I made it back to the gym yesterday. I had all kinds of good intentions when I got there, but everything came undone. My ipod was dead so I had no real entertainment. I was texting someone for a little bit, but they had to go. I stopped the treadmill after 30 minutes and was going to move on to the bike, but I got all pass outty. I didn't eat before I went. I felt super weak. I left.

I went to the grocery store on the way home and got healthy food. Then I went home and made a giant salad. I took about 5 bites and couldn't eat anymore. I set it aside and did other stuff and came back to it. I had to force feed myself, basically, and still didn't eat it all. I made up two big tacos for dinner and could barely eat one. I threw the other one away. I felt gross.

This eating thing is not because of the boy. This eating thing started before that took a turn. I was skipping meals most of the summer. He actually would give me shit for it. This eating thing has been going on for a couple months now. I just, on most days, look at food like a complete inconvenience. I'm put out by having to eat. I don't know if that's good or bad. I sit in front of a plate of food and am annoyed by it, disgusted by it, repulsed by the fact that it has consumed so much of my life. I eat only because I know I have to, not because I want to. It's kind of scary for me. Every once in a while I find that I am ravenously hungry...I still don't want to eat. If I do, I'm usually only a few bites in before I want to throw it all away.

Is this what skinny people are like? Is this the relationship a person is supposed to have with food? Put out by having to eat and doing it only because they have to? Stopping after just a few bites because they just can't bring themselves to eat anymore? I hardly think so. I think I've gone from one extreme to another. At least this will get me closer to a goal of some kind...or kill me.

Does anyone have any duct tape?

I am a firm believer that duct tape will fix most anything. I am in need of desperate repairs. I seem to have acquired a broken heart and need to wrap it up tight in a large amount of duct tape. I told that stupid boy, the stupid boy that I somehow managed to fall in love with through all of this, that if he can't respect me or bring a fraction of what I do to the table to PLEASE leave me alone. I told that stupid boy that I would not call him or text him again. That if I hear from him it will be because he wants me in his life. I told him I wasn't putting a time frame on when this decision had to be made, but I wasn't going to keep working so hard for something his actions suggest that he doesn't want regardless of what his words are saying. This was not my smartest move. I thought I was being bold and standing up for myself again. What I have instead done is put myself back in the land of limbo. What I have done is allowed myself to sit here wondering if he will call, hoping he will call, all the while knowing that he probably won't. Am dumb, am sad, am a hopeless romantic.

I've hardly been eating for the last month. Skipping meals has taken on a whole new meaning. Some days all I'll have had by the time dinner rolls around is an apple and maybe a protein bar. When I eat dinner I eat very little before I just can't bring myself to take another bite. I probably only sit down to the table to attempt it so that mom doesn't go bat shit crazy over how I'm not eating, talking, living. The fucked up part of that is that I'm not losing weight. Well, not as much as you would expect after a month of this. I got on mom's scale this morning and am officially under 350, but I don't know how that compares to the scale I was using at the gym before classes started. Ah, ya caught me, still haven't been to the gym since the last you heard. This term is kicking my ass in ways only Oscar De La Hoya can comprehend. There are only four weeks left to it and then I believe I have three weeks off for the holidays. Next term I will only have to go to campus on Mondays and Tuesdays and then will have a couple online classes as well. This should help my ability to get to the gym. I hope.

I have not given up. I've steered clear of a lot of the fast food my schedule would normally have me partaking in and I've even omitted a lot of ice cream from my life. Afterall, I used to eat Ben & Jerry's with that stupid boy at his house. So, about that duct tape?

Life raft anyone?

I'm struggling. Big time. I'm hardly sleeping, hardly eating, hardly keeping my head above water. I'm sad. I'm lonely. I'm stressed. I'm...drowning.

School is fucking insane. I haven't weighed since the gain of a couple weeks ago. Insertnamehere and I haven't seen each other in two weeks and it's likely not going to change anytime soon. Sadly, that's not so much my fault as it is his. He's just as busy as I am and, well, I'm/we/this is on the back burner for a while so that he can sort some things out. I miss him. I miss the escape that spending time with him provided. I miss how he calms me and right now, I need a lot of calming. I'm on edge. I'm going to snap. I'm scheduling a breakdown for about 1:30 this afternoon. Should be fun.

On that note, back to homework. It's all I do these days. All day, and often all night. All week and all weekend. Mama needs a break, but not for another 8 weeks. FML.

Don't judge me

Didn't weigh in this week.
Haven't been to the gym this week.
Not especially proud of how I've eaten this week.
Wednesday night I only got 2.5 hours of sleep because I was up all night doing homework.
Thursday night wasn't much better.
This weekend will be more of the same.

Before you judge me, take a second to ponder how it might feel for me to punch you in the neck for doing so.
Carry on.