Yo, anyone there?
Okay, so.. I’m not very good at this. But I just mentioned that right now, I ain’t doin’ so swell. Err, currently, I’m doing swollen. Yeah, that’s what binges do to my body (amongst many other equally amazing things).
I had a little four day break of Istanbul, which honestly, was well deserved and -needed. A breather. Pfoe. And even though my eating was… well… not that much *cough*, I still managed to gain 2kg. Awesome. Yeah, I did the scale thing again. Silly. But guess what. I didn’t really mind. WHAAAT!! Yeah, I know right? I did not mind I gained 2kg. Because I felt good. Even body-image wise, I felt (dare I say it!?) good. I didn’t feel the extra weight, I felt okay with myself. I, finally, did NOT feel like a walking, wobbling version of myself.
And then the weekend happened. I met up with an old friend, who was one of very few who stuck around without making me feel like the ‘anorectic friend’. He has NO CLUE how much that meant to me. How much it meant to me he just stuck around being him and treating me like I was me. And we had a drink and talked and I realized nothing had changed. It just felt right. I love that guy. Not like that, no, but he’s just such an awesome kid. Awesome.
And then, when I let him out, a friend of a friend (or, my ex’s best mate..) happened to walk by. He didn’t know I lived there. I, overly courageous (or, without realizing what I was doing I guess), called his name. He came up and I showed off my place (get your mind out of the gutter), we had a drink
and a cig and he went off again. Of course the entire night my mind was all over the place; OMG will he tell the ex? What will he say? Will he say how fat I got? That he barely recognized me? That I’m living there? What will my ex say? Will he ignore it or contact me?
Of course he contacted me. We texted back and forth the entire day after. Nothing much, him just being nosy and I dont mind. Apparently his friend only said nice things. That night another old friend of mine called that he was in town. I made myself go out and meet him for a drink (enter anxiety) but we somehow chatted the night away for hoooours straight, and I
stumbled back went home in the middle of the night.
Point being? I had a pretty good week.
And then sunday happened. I overate. Then got emotional. And then I overate more. It turned into a disaster, straight up. So I called it a day and went to bed. To wake up with the worst hayfever and unable to make it to Uni. Enter disaster again; me and change of plans do not work well together. It turned ito another fullblown binge. TWO DAYS STRAIGHT. After such a good week!! So now I sit here, bloated, lethargic, in pain (back, belly, joints, head), frustrated and crying. WHAT THE HELL SOOZ! Why do you ALWAYS fuck up!
Again, you think, point
I know I do my motivational mondays, I do my wednesdays words of wisdom and I wordvomit all over your blogs too. But this time, I want YOUR yay-ness. How do you turn things around again for the positive? WHY do you want recovery? What makes life on the other side worth it? How do you pick yourself up after a