Friday, December 09, 2005

uncomfortable and holding

Why would I be in deep like with someone nothing is ever going to happen with?

Why would I do that to myself? And why, oh why, would I hope against hope that someday…

And HOPE is a killer. Always does me in. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been annihilated by the merest glimmer of it. It’s that potent, that powerful.

I was thinking today, in the shower (or out of it, I’m not sure), that it would never work between us. I’d be my mother, not really understanding that connection he has with his family and being jealous of it. I didn’t used to be jealous of it. Now, it seems, I have a slight annoyance – could it be that I just want to spend all my time with him and want his undivided attention? Surely not.

And then I try to stay away: to avoid him as I do his gaze. But unlike his gaze, from which I hide away from, and never meet directly, mostly from cowardice and self-preservation, knowing that I will surely drown in his eyes and disappear forever, never to be myself again, I cannot stay away from him. I enjoy his company. I want to be with him. I want to hear him talk. I love to see (out of the corner of my eye) how attentively he listens and pays attention to me and what I say. I am completely surprised by his smile and how well he seems to know me. And as I write this, I realize that I am in love.

And I have no hope. Really. I do not even dare to hope for any outcome that could be, in any way, satisfying. Really. What could I hope for? I do not hope for kisses or sex or anything physical. Wow, am I messed up. Statement of fact.

Should I tell him?
This question is killing me. I begin to think that it is all about me – my need to obsess. And that possibility is soo possible, that I cannot discard it.


I need to be different.

I cannot seem to be the person I want to be.

Who is it that I want to be? Well, just a better version of me, I guess.

I just had a new little spat with rm. So dumb. And when I say, “just,” I mean yesterday. Oh, well. I thought that I was the one who was wronged, and then I thought better of it. But I was still annoyed. Annoyed because I am a jackass? Perhaps. But there I was calling and leaving a message on rm’s cell phone. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

So the message? The message was about this book I was standing in front of, horrible though it was, that was completely stupid. The death of Christmas - how the liberals were destroying the Sacred Christian holiday.

I just need to be different. better. more.
and sooo much less.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Full of...

Realizing that you’re full of *&#@ is a difficult thing, I think.

And here I am with this realization.

So, I was playing in a 2-ton car driving down the road and trying to catch up to someone I’d been flirting with and, more importantly, had been flirting with me. And I cut said person off. Smiled and waived. As he laid on the horn. Pissed. Upset. Me: no big deal – grain of sand, humor, all good. Him: pissed, life in danger, horrible wreck, pain, anger. Me: whoops! Sorry. And now me: shame. Feel I must apologize again. And to everyone. Very sad. Realize not toy, very chastened. Very sorry. Never want to see said person again, nor anyone from work again. Parking and hiding in shame.

I’m hungry. Why???? Why? Perhaps drink more water. Maybe better? Whatcha think?

I still don’t know why I overeat. I don’t know what I’m trying to stuff down. I know that – as I write this blog today and everyday – I feel uncomfortable. I am almost always just a little bit uneasy. Not really comfortable in my own skin. Never quite accepting of myself and, therefore, others. Why is that?

Been working today! Hurray me! Ugh. Don’t know if I should drop my accounting class. Feel like a failure – but not really. Just being stubborn. Didn’t know I had this stubborn streak in me. Kinda odd. Granny had it. Sister has it. Mother has it. And now me? Since when?

Something that rhymes with Puck! Starting with an F!!!!!!! If I drop the class, and want to take it next semester – the same jerk is teaching it.. Eff that poo.

Thursday, September 29, 2005


The sleeping kind.

I recently had a dream in which, now bear with me because I know that dreams are never interesting to people that did not experience them, unless of course you are receiving a hundred plus dollars an hour to be interested in them, I was doing ordinary things at home. Friends were over. And the object of my (secret) affection, so secret, in fact that most of the time I keep it hidden from myself, came up behind me and simply – not quite held me, but was just there. Like sitting at the kitchen table looking on the Internet for a movie and he put his hand upon mine to help guide the mouse. And I knew what it meant. And so did others – who became curious and obvious. At which point, I mouthed “SHUT UP.” And I was very happy. Very, very happy. The ordinary-ness of the day continued but with extra nice bits—like trying to sneak a moment when we were alone together. Feeling his presence behind me and knowing for certain it meant he cared too. I could feel the blossoming of my heart – with hope, with love, with possibilities.

I awoke from said dream with a lovely feeling. And then, I knew what it meant: that very day, I was supposed to go meet someone, a date someone. I would not be interested in this someone as I had been hoping against hope for my “friend” to return my feelings. That I was again mired in this hope. I was depressed. I had waited so long for him. I had to go have this “date” and attempt to like someone I probably wouldn’t, or couldn’t, like. I went and took a shower, just so I could be alone to cry. And cry I did. I had never shed a tear over my friend. He had never given me cause to. He is very gentle and kind (and obtuse) and sweet and polite and intuitive, but never malicious or mean.

I began to brood. I had waited so long. Sometimes I would feel that I had little signals that maybe he liked me too. But it was always too much to hope for, but maybe it was ok to hope. I had waited so long that I had told myself to stop waiting: it wasn’t going to happen. I then began to think that maybe he was waiting for me too. And it became clear: he was waiting for me! I had to get my S@%* (stuff) together, and quickly, because he’d been waiting a long time, too.

I felt good. I worked out (twice). I dreaded going out with my “date” and hoped something would happen to make it unnecessary to go – and put off doing homework. I made a plan of how I was going to stick to my meal plan and work out.

Even felt good – and excited on Monday at work. Talked to co-workers about feelings and dream. Half way through Monday, knew it was completely stupid.

Been trying to get the feeling back – hold on to it. Maybe it wasn’t stupid.. but the certainty of it is gone. Been trying to hold on to hope.

The Second Sleeping example.

Author’s Note: How very disappointing. Trying to dig to feel and to write this piece, I’ve lost the specifics of the lovely dream I had last night. Oh, well. I know that I dreamed of him again. It was sweet. Not as clear (even when I could remember). But still very sweet and very nice.

Does your subconscious really tell you what you need? Does it provide insight to solve your problems? Does it just show you what you wish for? I don’t think it predicts the future.

The Visions we have for ourselves.

The future and what it holds: why do I want to be slender and healthy and driving a convertible Porsche and living in a fairly big house with marble floors that are spotless and manicured lawns? Who do I see there with me?

See, I think what I’ve been dreaming is crap. I think it’s all about me and what I’ve been fixating on. I think it’s about my need to fixate. When I call him… it doesn’t feel at all like it does in my head.
True. I haven’t been making all these scenarios and possible clues up – but perhaps I am reading too much into, well, nothing. A friendly remark. A kindly smile.

So what do I want for myself? What vision do I hold for my future? And How Do I Get There?

I want to be strong.
I want to be slender and healthy.
I want love. As a subheading to love, I want a partnership. I want to find my other half.
I want to pay my bills and have leftovers.
I want to travel.
I want to stay put and not have to drive anywhere.
I want to be able to run away.
I want to be able to stand and fight.
I want to kick ass.
I want to drive fast and hard and wind up somewhere beautiful.
I want to walk out my front door, take a leisurely walk and find myself at the ocean.
I want to live in the desert.
I want to surround myself in sunlight.
I want to live where my nearest neighbor is a mile away.
I want to live in a high-rise in a big city.
I want love.
I want acceptance.
I want to be important.
To someone special
To the world
I want love. – I want to be wanted – I want to be desired. – I want to desire. – I want love.

I know that I am full of crap. I cannot keep a moment - a thought, an idea - and continue on with it. I cannot make it tangible. I am not one of those "successful" types - the ones who work and work and reach goals. I can't even keep my mind from changing like the ticking of a clock. Each tick leads to a different tock that keeps me going around the face of the clock: in circles - never changing, always just going around and around.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Work. Catch Up

Vegas, Baby!

So recently I went with a friend to see another friend and her friends in Vegas, Baby!
I drank so much I could hardly – drink anything more. And all the pumped in oxygen. Lovely, but not. Kept fooling me that I was rested – and fine, but really had no sleep, no food and way too much alcohol.
I gained 7 pounds.

Way UP.

Yeah, so I’m way up in my weight. Very disturbing. Working towards something and just backtracking enough to make it look like all my previous work has been in vain.
Who’m I kidding? I’ve been stalled for months now. Working on that.


That I’m in love with someone. No longer in like. No longer just a crush. Perplexed as to what to do – but then thought, “He’s been waiting for you. But he’s not going to wait forever, so get your act together.” So decided to exercise harder. Drink my water. Not cheat on myself/meal plan and just go for it, flat-out.


What a stupid idea. Just plain dumb.


I haven’t been speaking with G for some time. Been 2 months. Very weird. Think our best-friend-ed-ness is over. At some point, I’m sure we will be friends again. But obviously not best friends. This wouldn’t happen to best friends. I will not call.

Work and School.
Need to work harder. Don’t seem to care about work at all anymore. Don’t really know why. Not sure that I care, either. But I know there’ll be hell to pay. That’s why I should care. I need to catch up. Stay ahead. Work harder. In every aspect of my life – work harder.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Particularly low.

It’s odd. I don’t know why. Yes, I do. I weighed today. I told myself I wasn’t going to weigh for 2 weeks and I did. And I was really up. And I guess it’s good that I didn’t weigh in front of my nutritionist and see how high I was and now I can get down to the nitty gritty and really work on my meal plan, except for I’m not. I feel like binging. I feel like eating until I just plain pass out. And I am at work and I just was walking to the vending machine to purchase something.. which I never do, because I have no need because there is always chocolates or something out.. but I want to eat so much that I wasn’t going to go get some out of the communal bowl, because I was going to be taking way more than my share (what’s new?). But I turned around and decided that maybe I should go to the recovery site, but instead I am going to pour my little heart out here. On this page.

I feel awful. I feel fat. I feel sad. I feel like eating. I am not hungry. I had my shake and now I feel like chewing and chomping and biting.

I went to the mall on lunch break thinking I could buy something cute to boost my self-esteem. Reasons why you should never try to purchase a heightening of your self esteem: 1) Rarely, if ever do you find something you really love for a price that seems reasonable, which means that you inevitably buy something you don’t like that much for too much money, or conversely, something you will probably never wear because it’s cheap. This leads to guilt. Guilt over how much money you spent and how that money could have gone to a better purpose and how are you going to make this garment fit into an overly full closet, where it will hang with tags until you donate it many moons later. 2) If you do resist the purchase, you feel worse. That won’t look good on me (read: my body is misshapen). That isn’t cute enough/too cute (I can’t wear fashionable clothes).

Better now. Went for a walk. Revived my senses. And feel better.

It’s odd.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

V Day, Chocolate and Binge Eating

Freakin' Valentine's Day! What a lousy, made-up holiday! And we (read me) buy into it. I think it is more than just me. How much candy do we buy how bad do we feel if we don't have a valentine how ridiculous is it how long will this sentence go on?
Actually, I feel that I am fairly intelligent because I've found a solution. It was a really low point a couple of years ago, and my parents didn't get me anything and no one else did, either. The lowest was when (I was feeling sorry for myself) and my roommate came in with a big bunch of flowers. Now she doesn't have anyone either, but her dad got her some really nice flowers. So I then said "This is it! I am going to have a valentine next year!" (Actually, I believe I really probably uttered words very similar, if not those exact words.) And ever since that year, my roommate and I exchange gifts. It's taken the worry out of it. But it's still ridiculous.
I have been off chocolate for like 3 weeks, and now-fucking bingeing at work. Fuckers! With their chocolate and love and heart-shaped cookies that are just fat rolled in sugar!
So . . experiment. I am still struggling with getting past that 3 digit nightmare and I've decided not to weigh my self for 3 weeks. By then, I should definetly be under and I won't even know it. I've asked RM to hide my scale and will tell the nutritionist tomorrow of my plan. We'll see how it goes.

By the by, I made my first post on my new web-board that I like. (good for me)
And I survived turning in my test and await the results with baited breath!

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Oh, F@#$!!!

Ok, so it's Sunday, and I'm sitting at work. and we haven't had a client for about 35 mins so I endeavored to do some more of my homework--actuallly, it's a take home test. And I can't do it. I'm freaking out because I've worked really hard on this and now I just want to go home. And go to sleep. And never do math again. And give up.
Same thing with my recovery. And I got drunk last night (really felt I needed to--was so exhausted and just DONE with the math). And I weighed this morning.. and fuck. I'm screwed.
I want to give up-that is a LIE. I don't want to give up. I just want someone to do it for me.
I'm so tired.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

FEELING (uncomfortable)


I need to just feel. I’ve been trying to think through all of my problems: all of my weight control/eating issues & dilemmas. And I have been wondering why I stuff myself with food so I don’t have to feel the feelings, because the feelings (or feeling the feelings) make(s) me uncomfortable.
Obviously. Always known this. Haven’t I?

I need to just feel.

This morning I started freaking out (perhaps it started yesterday) because I should not have weighed myself, and yet after weighing myself yesterday (another no-no), I knew that today I would probably be less than 300 pounds. (That’s right chickadees, I’m massive.) (OK ENOUGH WITH THAT KIND OF TALK!) Well, I wasn’t. And I guess I should have felt relived, but I didn’t. I think I started panicking. But I don’t know. Because I don’t know what I feel, ever.
----side note: Nutritionist asked: “What’s it going to feel like to weigh under 300?” I didn’t have an answer. I was thinking, “Normal,” but I knew I shouldn’t say that. I thought it would feel exactly the same—sort of numb, I guess. So instead I replied, “I don’t know.” Also the truth. I don’t ever Know how I feel.

All day today, I’ve been feeling hungry. Or I think it’s hunger. Do I really know? Perhaps I do not.
-----flashback: Scene: An mid-1970’s California burger chain Carl’s Jr. A young flawed-heroine (very young) eating burger and fries with nice young friend and young friend’s mother. And eating everything. And young friend saying she’s full. And young heroine remarks that she isn’t. And parent is mildly astonished. And young heroine replies that she never gets full, she just starts to get a stomachache. And parent and young friend share momentary glance and parent tells young heroine that the stomach ache IS full.

I’ve been writing down differing feelings of my body (read: stomach) and my responses to them and if/what I eat on sticky notes while at work. An attempt to feel my feelings and recognize . . . patterns, perhaps. I’m not sure. I’m sure there was logic behind it originally.

I think I’m panicking at the idea of losing the weight. That’s why I’ve stopped. But I haven’t really been gaining because I won’t give up.

That’s it: I won’t give up.
I cannot.

I will get over this hump and it will be a memory.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Today, so far.

Tuesday morning.
Yesterday was the last Monday evening in which I will get to go home and relax for a few precious moments before school. Starting next week (Monday), I will be leaving work, going straight to Pilates, and then go straight to school. I am hoping that the traffic gods are kind and I might have a chance to stop at Pita Jungle for dinner before Pilates. Probably, in the scheme of things, not the best idea—to eat before working out, but I will be famished and possibly unable to make it as I won’t have time after Pilates/before school to stop to pick something up. And I won’t get out of class until 9:15 pm. OH! Plus I might get to see James. Very important point.
Class last night was pretty good: after some scary moments when I opened my book, and couldn’t figure out at all what I was supposed to be doing—thinking, “oh, fuck, I’m fucked.” I had just informed G that I was one day from being fucked. And it was untrue, I was already fucked! But, alas, I had skipped ahead and was trying to do the homework after last night, i.e. we hadn’t learned to do that yet.
So I was relieved and mildly happy. And I declare that I will do my homework from now on. No exclamation point.

I am still searching for information/help about ED (CO and BE). Ha! Just kidding that is Eating Disorder(s), Compulsive Overeating, and Binge Eating (Disorder). I’ve found a site called something fishy dot org. Strange site, but I am feeling better today. And will continue to check in there and maybe join a support group and/or board.

Yesterday, I was very upset and was looking at Rader Programs. Have you ever seen a commercial for Rader? I remember them from years ago..and every once in a while I will catch the same commercial and just cry like a baby. Or rather weep. Yes, I am that sick. I can’t see how I could stop my life, my job to go. If that time were to come, I think I’ve past it.

But something fishy dot org is nice. And I’ll do more reconnaissance and report back any findings. But I am definitely feeling more hopeful today. I’ve read a few articles and printed off a little saying. Maybe. Maybe.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Help and uncomfortable

I am more uncomfortable in my skin than one (who knew me) might realize. Maybe not. Maybe, I am completely transparent.

I am on an odyssey. I am attempting to change myself, to better myself, and to grow. Grow into what? A better human being.
In short: I am trying to lose weight.
But it is more than that. Let me repeat: I want to change.

Right now I’m having difficulty. I am on the verge of a full-blown eating disorder (ED). I cannot stop thinking about food, weight, what I eat or how I’ve failed. I cannot stop eating. Not right now. I’ve tried to switch to overeating things that have less calories, and therefore, won’t be as bad for me. But I’m still eating. And eating. And Eating.

I’ve always been a compulsive eater. A social eater. A comfort eater. And let’s not forget an emotional eater.

It is getting worse, after a period of getting better. (Or so I thought.) I need help. And here’s the thing. I’ve been looking for help on the Internet. And so far, nothing.

Probably the best group would be OA (Overeaters Anonymous). But, as they base their 12 steps on Alcoholics Anonymous, they have a big relationship with God. I am having difficulty with that.
I will continue to search and keep you posted. Hopefully, I can find something for addicts. What I really want is a buddy. I know I’ve shunned this kind of help before, but I desperately need it now.