I committed to making a new entry every Wednesday, but I failed to write last Wednesday's entry. This is a make-up session.
This week had its ups and downs. I'm proud that I kept exercising, but I'm not so proud that I ate too many calories. And I binged tonight.
Last Tuesday, I made an excellent smoothie, consisting of coconut water, carrots, protein powder, and a granny smith apple. It was delicious, and I was so proud of myself that I texted a picture to my mom.
It was very hard to wake up for Wednesday's workout. I had about 7.5 hours of sleep, but I just could not get up on Wednesday morning. I took the usual Wednesday selfie, but I was NOT feeling it. It was a horrible picture -- I could see bulges and fat all over.
Frankly, I'm kind of disgusted with myself. I do not feel attractive at all. This weight gain does not feel like me! This is not who I am. I look in the mirror, and I look older than my twenties and fat and exhausted. I have been getting BACK PAIN from not exercising. I find myself wanting a seat on my public transit commute. My jeans, even my "fat day" ones DO NOT fit.
And I am always exhausted. I've been tracking my sleep, and I have been going to bed at better times, but my extra weight requires more rest time. This isn't who I am. I took a fitness class yesterday, and HATED it because it was a stations class. I hated that it was a stations class because that meant working together with the other people in my class, that meant that the class was a group effort, and therefore more people would notice and pay attention to me. As soon as I saw the instructor setting up different stages for different circuits, I immediately felt pissed because that meant that I couldn't hide in the back and do things at my own pace. I was so upset, because I couldn't just leave the class and I was trapped there for an hour.
I'm sure that the instructor, polite and professional that he was, assumed that I was some sort of fitness rookie with long-time extra pounds who decided to get fit. He smiled at me with pity and uttered generic phrases such as "That's great!" and "You've got it!" I was angry at myself because I only had myself to blame for this.
I was angry at myself because I let negative emotions and self-doubt and disappointment and anger and hurt feelings DOMINATE me for more than a year. I was angry at myself because I took a chance and decided to ignore logic for once and just do something because of feelings and that it didn't work out. I was angry at myself for being sad, and because I just couldn't get the hell over this sadness and move forward with my life. I'm angry because of my relapse of this eating disorder. I'm angry because I keep eating my feelings.
I went out last Friday and a stranger told me that I was stunningly beautiful, then promptly assumed that I had low self-esteem. I am angry because he was right.
I got more than eight hours of sleep last night, and I am still so exhausted.
Due to a stupid clerical error, I just found out that I've been overpaid on my pay checks for my new job and I am pissed at myself for not noticing. I feel like such an idiot for not paying more attention to my pay stubs (the downside of Autopay). I absolutely HATE HATE owing money (my only debt is a small student loan), and now I have to crunch numbers to figure out how to pay the money back stat.
Ahhh...the past week has been so hard! And tomorrow's going to get harder because it's 11:47pm, and I need to get to sleep for work tomorrow.
My bad days are extra bad. But ever since I was a child, living in poverty, I would write and write. Write through the angry tears, and through the disappointment. It comforted me. I binge eat for comfort. But I can't do that anymore. A 6,000-calorie episode is a problem, and I need to find a better way to control these episodes. I'm making an effort to make Wednesday blog posts a habit. So I will keep writing, because I know that like before, it will eventually bring me comfort.
Thank you for listening.