Sunday, September 28, 2014

In the last two days I lost a pound which doesn't sound like much but it's a start. I binge ate this morning when I woke up but haven't eaten anything since. I also got so fed up with my bf that I was able to force myself to leave the house. It was dark out already so no one was around. I feel safer that way. I walked for a while and then I texted a few friends, who may or may not be able to help me find a way out. The moment I get an opportunity to leave in which I don't have to sacrifice everything, I will take it.
I have to leave. i can't live here anymore.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Inspiration

Staying motivated is the worst thing for me. When I started on this blog, everything was so new, it wasn't hard to continuously find something to inspire myself with. Now it's like I've seen it all. Nothing really hits me anymore. I want to be blown away again but I'm numb to it all. There are some pictures that I like to look at that remind me why I am trying to lose weight.

My goal is too lose a shit load of weight by the end of the year. I just can't go through one more winter, or one more Christmas being overweight. I am cutting back on food, trying to limit binge eating, and waiting until I am hungry to go to bed.

I will post pictures when I get there, I promise. And I WILL get there. Soon.
I can't let myself or my viewers down any longer. I will prove to everyone that it is possible.






I want to leave

I want to leave. Leave my bf, leave this apartment, and leave this life.
It's my only fantasy right now. The only thing I think about. It fills every thought, every moment. I want a different life.
I find myself in a relationship of convenience. I have been dating for so long just to have a home, I don't even remember what it feels like to love anymore. Everything is decided by whether or not it will leave me homeless. I'm just like everybody else. I don't want to be alone. The only problem is, no matter how much time I spend with my bf, I am always alone anyways. I don't love him. I've known this for a while now, but have tried my hardest to deny it, even to myself. Even now, I realize that tomorrow I will wake up and try to go on living that lie. I will keep trying to convince myself that I love him. I will let him hurt me a million times over, but convince myself it's the best option, but the truth is that it's my only option. I want to have other options, but so far I am just lucky I have not fallen between the cracks.
I'm not sure any other option would be good enough either, if I had them.
My anxiety is worse than it ever has been. The idea of getting out of bed makes me panic, the idea of going to sleep, of eating, of breathing too loud, of saying the wrong thing when there is no one there, everything makes me panic. I am just barely getting through each moment. It used to be like I would look at what my future holds and see the same day happening every day, and it depressed me so bad I would panic. Now I am frozen. I can hardly see five minutes ahead, let alone what the next day will be like. I concentrate on trying to breath, trying to bear existence a little longer. Sometimes I am hardly getting from second to second, but I am paralyzed, unable to move unable to take action against what has become my life.
Medications never worked, and the thing about anxiety medication is that they don't actually treat anxiety. They are tranquilizers. I had some lorezepam I made to last this long. I panic through one mg and then two. One day I took five and still panicked for hours through that fog. Nothing holds the panic at bay. Some days I would love nothing more than to go to the Doctors and ask for something stronger, but I have no insurance and it's a task to even stand up anymore. I can't leave for anything.
Disability is a no go. There are no government programs for people in my situation. I can't leave for a shelter, I could never bear to go through that again. My family will not take me in, even if I were that desperate. Their home is a place of constant panic attacks and suicide attempts.
I want to leave, but I have no options.
I am forced to exist in a relationship, where my bf is two different people. One kind and promising, the other violent and terrifying. I am tired of being told to leave in arguments, and of being hated for my panic and anxiety. I am sick and in pain. My teeth are past repair and speaking is excruciating. I'm so paranoid of germs that my hands are bloody and raw from hand washing. I'm exhausted. I'm past hurt.
It's hard to comprehend that sometimes there are just no options left. Until it happens to you, you can't understand. If there were options for everyone, there would be no homelessness and no hunger. You grow up believing that everything will be okay, and then when you find out that it's not, your entire world falls apart. But the one thing I have learned from all of this, is that even when it seems like it's the end, life goes on. I guess I always just assumed that when horrible things happened, it would be the end, but it just turns out to be a hell you have to live in.
I say all this here because this is my escape. I've tried to express some of these things to people in my life, and for some reason, no one can come to except that it is possible for this to be my reality. They fire off solutions like it's easy to fix, easy to change. No one believes that it can't be okay until it isn't.

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Ramblings of a fat girl

It's frustrating how long I have promised myself to lose weight and then done nothing. It's also frustrating when you go through one long, boring, miserable day and do well and the next day you find out you have gained. Or when you do well for a few days and gain it back without knowing what happened.
I hate counting calories. It's exhausting. Some of the food I have doesn't even have calories on the packaging. I only have $189 a month to spend on food and a good portion of that is spent on drinks. How is it possible that I am so overweight?
I can't exercise. I am agoraphobic now. Even the idea that someone might glance my way if I leave the house makes me panic before I even reach the door.
I don't have anything but pajama pants that fit me. They aren't even my own pajama pants. I stole them from my bf. I don't have friends or anywhere to go even if I weren't terrified to do so.
I'm always bored.
I like the idea of painting and drawing, but once I start I just become so uninspired it's pointless. I'm so tired all the time...

Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is the idea of buying something new. It sounds like the start of a new addiction to me. I just want to go on a giant shopping spree and be able to fit into size zero clothes, At this point, I would be ecstatic if I could even fit into a size 12 again. All my winter clothes are too small for me and I don't have the money for a coat or anything else. I wonder how I am going to get by...

It occurs to me that if I don't lose weight, the rest of the year is going to be near impossible for me. I want to be able to go to the store to get food for myself every few weeks without having a panic attack in the car about how many people are there.
I don't like the way I look. It's uncomfortable at best. It's like layering yourself with pillows and then trying to walk around without overheating or drawing unwanted attention to yourself. I'm not delusional though. I know no one is really watching me or anything like that. But I want them to. I want to be stared at, just not at this weight.

I miss my tights and little skirts. I miss how good I looked in the low 140's. Looking back at pictures of that, I realize that even that wasn't good enough for me. I can do better than that...
Sorry for the rambling.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Puppy

I was able to get a puppy. He is a little 8 week old lab. I am going to train him to be my service dog. So far, I am discouraged. I guess I was so focused on the final product of this endeavor that I never considered how tough the path was going to be while getting there.
The first night I came back with him, I was so tired and discouraged and worn out that I had several long, terrible panic attacks. I went into this extreme manic state where all I wanted to do was die. I was only trying to make things better and ended up making them worse.
V pretty much hates the puppy. The first few days he told me to get rid of him, even though he's the one who encouraged me to get the puppy in the first place. V is more emotional and erratic than I am I think. One moment he can do anything and the next he doesn't want to bother with life anymore. It's hard to avoid the idea that maybe he is mentally ill as well.
I'm exhausting myself physically and emotionally just trying to get through each day. The puppy isn't as much a bother anymore once I force myself to look at what he will become. V is a constant struggle though.
Lately I have been daydreaming about getting on disability and moving away. I constantly imagine a life for myself where I can be independent and date whoever I like without having to worry whether I am with them for the right reasons or not. I wonder if I would still be with V if I didn't have to depend on him for a home and so many other things. I wonder if maybe I am with him because of a sense of obligation. Whenever I imagine breaking up with him, I only feel guilty.
I don't want to be like this but I just keep obsessing over the idea of something better. I don't want to live this way. I need something more.

Short Story: Escaping Agoraphobia

She sits in the window sill, draped in the folds of her worn blankets, looking outside. The world is changing outside. She touches the glass, stares intently to the world outside, longingly taking in every detail. She presses her forehead against the glass, her eyes refusing to well up any longer. Her heart beats with such abandon and she slams the glass weakly with her fist, but nothing will change unless she makes things change, and she knows that. She falls back against the side of the window, her head rests to the side.
The front door opens and her boyfriend comes in. He slowly takes off his boots and his jacket. She turns to watch him but says nothing.
"You have to leave the house sometime," he tells her before leaving the room.
"I can't," she whispers to herself. "I can't leave."
When he wanders back in she finally speaks to him.
"I'm lonely," she says.
"That's your own fault. I can't stay in here day in and day out with you. I have a life. I have things to do. I'm not like you."
"Just stay with me for a little while. Please?"
"No," he yells at her. "I can't do this! I need to get out of here."
He storms out the door.
"Wait!" She climbs out of the window and follows him to the front door which slams in her face, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't make herself open the door. She hasn't left the house in months. She can't. She doesn't know how.
She hears the car start outside and then listens as it fades away into the distance.
He's gone.
She hears herself start to scream in frustration, then in despair. She pounds on the door but can't force herself to put her hand on the door knob. She starts to feel like an idiot. Her emotions overwhelm her until she feels that she can't hold still any longer. She flings the door open and steps outside.
The cold is like an awakening. The wind bites at her skin and snaps her hair around her face violently. She welcomes the feeling.
Her boyfriend is long gone, but the snow and the cold are inviting to her. Now that she is finally outside, she never wants to go back in. She is afraid that if she goes back now, she may never escape.
Her bare feet make prints in the snow only to be quickly covered. Her face burns and her fingers are numb, but she doesn't care.
She escapes into the storm and fades into the wall of white.