Left, right, up, down, centre, backwards, forwards? My mind is all over the place.
Thankfully me and 'I' are alright at the moment and no major trauma's, just got to hope next week goes okay... if it doesn't, well heck, none of our lives are worth living, but we'll see. Trying to stay positive at the moment.
Eating appears to be going slowly tits up. I hate lent. Physically hate it. However many years ago I decided to give up chips and chocolate for lent, in retrospect this was probably my passage towards disordered eating... I realised I was good at dieting, I realised that I liked losing weight, I felt better etc etc. We all know the sob story. This year, I decide to 'eat healthily'... It started really well, and I felt good about myself... Still eating normally, but just healthier, under the premise that all I eat is sweets. But I appear to have fallen back into the same old trap rather quickly of counting calories for the sake of reducing them, rather than to keep an 'eye' on what I'm eating. I've also lost weight, and that insatiable feeling of elation came rushing back, making me want more. Now I'm grown up enough, and mature enough to know the signs and symptoms, I know what I'm doing and where I'm heading, but that doesn't seem to stop me. It's almost as if, if I stop, then I'm failing, there was no point in doing it all, and I quite like doing it. It's that weird sado-masochistic longing for the hunger pangs, and the seal of approval that you've burnt x amount of calories. Why am I doing this to myself? Why am I such a raging twat? It's not going to last. I won't be allowed to. He'll pick up on it, and I know deep deep deep down that'll be a good thing, but I've missed it. I've genuinely missed it. Everytime he's being a twat, I have that little voice in my head that is knowing well at least I have control over one thing in my life.
I don't know. I don't fucking well know.
