Nessajane’s latest entry just made me cry and cry because it’s all too similar to my story. I love that girl and her writing so much. It continually amazes me, the common threads of this whole Fat Experience. We too never had junk food in our house, so when I was at my skinny friends’ houses I pig out on all their food. I’d sneak it and steal it. And my mother did the chip thing too! I couldn’t believe Nessajane’s mum did the same. Stuffing them in and noone else was allowed to have them.
Why do we abuse food like this? I feel in many ways it is no different from any other kind of addiction. On the weekend I thought I would simply fall apart if I didn’t start stuffing food into me. I was almost manic with the need to do it, my head was screaming "stop it stop it", stop it as in "please stop this pain" instead of "please stop this eating". I wanted the food to make me shut down and forget all the crap happening.
Things are just getting worse with that situation, and you know what disappoints me the most? Finding out that "friends" suddenly only want you talk if you have good things to say. They don’t want to hear about your grief and problems. And I wasn’t even complaining. I was just really hurt and upset and needing to talk but they went all weird on me. It’s okay for me to listen to everyone else’s problems but if I ever deviate from the happy laughy dietgirl, they can’t handle it.
Also, someone signed my guestbook as "Hmmm". In the mood I am in now I am prone to paranoia so if Hmmm is reading this and Hmmm has figured out who I am, just bloody tell me, okay? Write me an email. Whatever. I just don’t fucking care if you know. So I’m a big fat lump, shoot me.
I didn’t go to WW on Monday night. First time in the entire 38 weeks that I haven’t been there for a weigh-in. I just couldn’t do it. It’s pathetic I know.
I was eating so badly. I even had sausages on Monday. Sausages! I may well have stapled them straight to my butt, they are so fatty. I’d also eaten some chocolate and a McFlurry and I felt sick. All I could do was taste the grease and sugar and crap in my mouth and my stomach was protesting. I hadn’t treated it so poorly for almost nine months. So that’s when I stopped the crazy eating. I am not going there again.
I’ve gotten some really nice emails and I really need to start replying to them. Once again I am apologising and asking for your patience. I feel so pathetic every time I write that.
I am going to fitball tonight and I hope for a sweaty, intense, punishing workout. I want to bounce the tension right out of me! So there.