Hidden Away

I don't know what's going on with me right now. The husband and I have made our peace, and are trying to quietly go on about our lives. Who knows how long this will last, but I really do love him... so I'm just going to focus on that for now. Maybe everything else will magically work itself out.

Sometimes I worry about brain damage. I hit my head so hard the other day, there's a huge hole in the wall... it looks like an elephant tried to jump through. There are multiple cracks from the actual impact of my head, and then there are big sections that are about to fall away from the final blow of my entire whale body slamming against it. I should have just gone running.

How many days until I can think clearly again? Until the words stop swimming around on the page?

I haven't updated my food diary in three days. I've been eating 1000 calories everyday. No exercise (except work), no laxatives... I'm quite literally terrified of the scale right now. I know I've gained weight because I feel it hanging from my body... slowing me down, making me jiggle. Oh God, I really do hate myself like this. But it's all my fault. Nobody made me eat.

Maybe I just needed a good-ole-fashioned binge to remind me where I have been and where I am going. I'm still around my lowest weight. My ribs are still peeking through every now and then. My mind is hinting that I should stop doing this to myself.... but it's too late to stop now. I'm halfway there.

This is the weight I "recovered" at last time. Some stupid little part of my brain is saying "stop, you're good enough" but I just don't believe it. My stomach should not protrude. It should not jiggle. My thighs should not touch EVER. My arms are so disgusting - like giant turkey legs attached to a cow's body. That little bit of fat is still hanging under my jaw, threatening to become a chin all its own. My fingers are still round and plump like fucking sausages.

Last night, while the husband was humping me... all I could think was OINK OINK OINK. Is this how you pork a fat woman? Thrust with all your might, hoping that your dick might survive the crushing jelly rolls and find some pussy? When he picked my leg up over his shoulder, all I could feel is the impact it had on my stomach. I felt sick when his hand brushed over my giant belly. He grabbed my ass and it felt like he was checking a prized pig before the county fair. I am so disgusting and I do not want to hate myself for being gluttonous anymore.

Renewed motivation. I never really forget my goals, I just become distracted with all the other shit in my head. I need to hate myself so I stay on track. I don't need encouragement, I need someone to tell me I'm not good enough... that I'll be there one day. Because right now I am such a fucking failure at being attractive. Worthwhile. Productive. Loveable. I need to be better for myself before anyone else can really appreciate me.

When I woke up this morning I was so disoriented. Get up, go to the bathroom... don't get on the scale. Brush my hair, wash my face... wait, what's this feeling? What's this fucking feeling in my gut?! Oh yeah, I'm still full from last night. That explains the loose skin looking a bit tighter now. And the pants not falling off my hips so quickly.

I miss the feeling of success and empowerment: getting out of bed and feeling dizzy. Walking around the house and literally feeling the fat dissolve from my body.

I need this.