because I'm going deeper and deeper, harder and harder, getting darker and darker

For some complicated and probably stupid reasons, I'm back in the city (illegaly, I might add, since we're still not allowed to travel) and alone (Husband left for southern Italy for work).

Perfect time for a little fasting by the way, and I went to bed all happy and excited, looking forward to my scale in the morning because the first day of fasting always brings incredible joys.

At 1.30 I woke in such agony that it took me 5 minutes to manage to stand. I felt like a hot piece of rod had been somehow inserted at the base of my spine, and my hips were pulsing in waves of pain. I felt nauseous from the pain, and I didn't even want to puke since I had not eaten in 30 hours and I knew it would not help anyway.

I managed to swallow some ibuprofen and ti lay down on my belly, with the pillow propped under my hips, since this somewhat helps with my back ache, but the trouble is it's not a position that fits well with my swollen nose from the allergies.
Tossing and turning, I made it till morning, when I saw my reflection in the mirror and I honestly thought "I've got it. I've got this fucking Covid and I'm going to die alone, like my father in law".
My face was so swollen and the pain so bad, I had such trouble breathing...
But no temperature, and trust me I almost cried when I checked.

Even the scale numbers dropping by 2.4lbs in 24 hours were meaningless.
In any case I had never been this heavy and fat before, so nothing to rejoice I guess.

The real trouble is, I don't have much to look forward. I've been relatively okay at home for the past few months (resulting in fat fat fat fat accumulating).
But then what?
Work will never be the same again. I've been through one crisis before, and even worse, I already knew before the covid that I was not going to make it to equity partner.

So I don't really look forward to the "back to normal". I am not so keen on everyone at work finding out I've become fat.

Last weekend it was Vivien's birthday, and she's been dead for almost two years - I can hardly believe it
I'll never forget you my friend. I'll never know if it was an accident or if you've simply had enough, but I miss you and I'll still do my best to carry on.

dirty

Extreme ways are back again, extreme places I didn't know
I broke everything new again, everything that I'd owned
I through it out of the windows and came along
Extreme ways I know move apart the colors of my sea
Perfect color me

Extreme ways that help me, they help me out late at night
Extreme place I had gone, but never seen any light,
dirty basements, dirty noise, dirty places coming through, extreme worlds alone, did you ever like it then?

I would stand in line for this,
there's always room in life for this!


Should I buy the superb loft I just visited?

Should I quit my job and run for parliament (I actually could make it, and this opportunity will not present itself again). I hate politics, but dear Lord, I'd love to have a grated lifetime salary for the rest of my life, and all for sacrificing one or two years.

Can I just go to sleep and wake in three months (skinny)? pretty please?

I think I'm dumb

PS - yes, the Nikita show was the one starring Peta Wilson. I don't know if I would recommend it - I loved it, but the desperate sadness and hopelessness it transmitted were quite strong triggers.

Nikita

This is the story of someone who almost always (some exceptions, granted) put her job ahead of everything else, including dieting.

How did this happen?

At school I was not exactly a teachers' pet. I was a rebel, I would only study/paid attention to classes I cared for, and those were few. Neither was I good at studying I'm afraid, although I found out this only once in university.

Then, university was almost over and I needed money. In this country, you don't have student loans. My parents were no longer paying the bills (mind you, I think that was fair), and I needed a salary - desperately. Rent and groceries were not coming for free.

I had a couple internship gigs, and then I was hired by the company I currently work for.
I do financial due diligence - basically, when you want to buy a company, you come to see me. You pay my firm a fee, and I'll dig through all the financials of the company you want to buy and outline all issues/hidden gems.

This job I started and 22 and I sometimes feel it has eaten away my life.
Back in the 90's there was a TV show called Nikita (yes, there was a remake about 8/10 years ago).
The original Nikita looked a bit like me, only, she looked very deep while when I gaze like that I just look like an idiot. Anyways, that show reflected the total lack of control I had over my life since I started this job.

From the very beginning, I was cautioned to find something else as this job was unsustainable (for a woman especially of course they thought and said). This I could not do.
Since then, I changed employers often (eventually returning to the origins), I vanished in another country for year, I changed email so often, lost touch with almost everyone. But I have many friends working with me.
Although sometimes I look around: there were 90 in my team at the beginning of the year, and only 56 are left, but we must go on - meeting the goals is my prison.

And when I think the wind is blowing, freedom (partnership) will soon come - I suddenly remember the goals will be even harder.

We are so fucking crazy that in some countries we call each project a "special mission". How much Nikita does that sound to you?

Les Allemands etaint chez moi, ils me dirent: Resigne toi! mais je n'ais pas peur. J'ai repris mon arme
J'ai changé 100 fois de nom, j'ai perdu femme et enfant, mais j'ais tant d'amis: j'ai la France entière...

What if?

Be careful of what you wish for, my brain whispers me. I know the brain is right.
I seems that, maybe, if everything goes well, blah blah blah, I may be promoted to non equity partner in two months. It's the step before making it.



Allow me a flash-back.
I started working in this specific Big4 when I was 22. I was the youngest, the silliest, the hottest, the skinny bitch who knew nothing but was willing to work VERY hard. I was assigned to a senior manager that we'll call from now on Humbert (Lolita?). He was very demanding, and in the beginning I went home crying a lot at night. Over the following months, B. broke my heart, and although everything seemed a nightmare, Humbert came to appreciate me and supported me at work.
When, not even having spent one year in the firm, I moved to the French office, everyone was angry with me at work, but before I left Humbert called me into his office and encouraged me to keep in touch and to make the most of the experience, and promised I could come back at any time.
Surely neither of us thought that I would come back working for the firm some 12 years later! But that's what happened about one year ago. The firm welcomed me back, and is willing to bet on me. I'm good, granted, but I'm also aware that they need to make female partners, and not many are well positioned as me and my two friends at work to make it :-)


So what am I afraid of?
i) my targets will spike - I know that this year (ending June 30) I'll end up exceeding by far my targets, but I'm cautious about how I can deliver more. Truth is, Humbert (who is now senior partner) is helping me a lot with my sales target. He will keep doing it - if he can. Should the internal political situation change however, his support may no longer be meaningful

ii) will husband be proud enough for me and not feel belittled? This may sound stupid, but hey, this is Italy. My man made it to equity partner - in a Tier 2 firm. Will it be okay for him to have a wife who makes it in a Tier 1 firm?

iii) as much as I want to make it, I know that the partner's daily job is something I like less than my current daily job. I wasn't born to be a salesman, I'm more into the operating part of the job.

iv) Matt, a friend who's one year ahead of me in the process (he'll get promoted to equity partner in June) is now 140kg. That's 308lbs for you Americans. He only uses food to sooth himself, while, let's face it, I am more creative. I (ab)use a mix of a bunch of stuff, most notably wine, pain killers, food, running (less and less these days), and to a much lower extent, drugs. But you guys already know my point: is this sustainable?

Long story short - I'm already planning to rent out Just Cavalli private club to throw the promotion party. I just need to lose weight. And I'm seriously considering a Liposuction.

I'm invincible, yeah I win every single game
I'm so confident, yeah I'm unstoppable today

Earthquake

I step in to the dressing room and strip off my trousers.

It's not simply warm, it's hot. This summer is taxing all of us in this hot, sticky city. I used to love that at night the cold never came during the summer month, and I could simply spend hours hanging out in denim shorts or in a nice short dress, revealing my lean, long legs.
I come from the Alps, and I used to think that it's not late until it gets cold, so when I moved here, 18 years old and 110 pounds, with a BMI barely touching 17.5, I loved that part.
It's true that climate has changed since then, and now we have 38° (100.4F) at 7PM.

My whole body is breaking a sweat, which is not strange as I decided again to walk the 4km from work to home in this temperature - then again, this helps shaking off the stress from the day (and, a little nagging voice adds in my mind, it only helps minimally with the carbs I gorged at lunch).
I feel strange and suddenly I wonder if a minor earthquake is happening (that's not so uncommon here, and nothing to worry about). But no one seems to notice in the shop, so I grab the size 4 trousers I have to try on and finally realize my legs are shaking.

I sit down and think if I walked too much in the heat or something. I take a big breath and no, my blood pressure is not low. It's anxiety. It's anxiety that I may not fit in a fucking pair of what we call size 42.
I'm fucking 35 years old.
And I stumble in fear that a stupid pair of trousers I don't even like may not fit. And I'm not even in public. I need to get hold of myself.

Failure

At the end of December, my boss was demoted at work. As an indirect consequence,  I went from being second line (albeit with privileged access to the CEO) to being third line.
The new CFO is a fat bitch.

Then last Friday, with no warning at all, I was moved from my office to the open space.
I know it's petty, but this was humiliating.

Action plan: the next two months will be focused on training and losing weight (because let's face it, I'm back to 134lbs (almost 61kg)); meanwhile, I'll figure if things work out here or if I'd better find another job. Should I quit, I think I have a couple other options, so I'm not really worried. I just feel I failed - nothing new there right?

overwhelmed

I just..

I don't know

I can't keep up with this anymore



Been working over the last three weekends in addition to full week.

70 hours this week and it's only Saturday (Italian week goes from Monday to Sunday)



I never have time to eat - I end up fasting without even wanting it. This is very triggering. I'm not even hungry anymore. I just have a constant headache. Been having it for 10days now.



I drink fresh grapefruit juice at aperitivo and avoid eating.



I blurted out to a close friend (who is skinny and not pro-ana, Lord bless her): "I don't want to eat anymore. I just want to stop eating entirely."



Over the past week I usually had milk and cereals at breakfast, and sometimes a boiled egg for dinner. I also once ate 15gr of parmesan cheese, and one 0%fat, no sweeteners greek yoghurt.



(Sie kommen zu euch in der Nacht, Demonen (...) Schwartze Feen)



at least BMI is finally below 20.

I hate my German client. I hate him on so many levels I have a hard time restraining myself from insulting him in German all the time.

(insulting in German is so liberating)

I am despicable.

Mein Herz bMein Hertx brennt rennt!!!!







Now dear kids

listen carefully

I'm the voice from under the pillow

I brought something along

(...)

with this very heart I did it (...)

I'll sing 'till day breaks

A burning star from the sparkling firmament





I am so in love with Stefano, and yet I can't help my fear that thing may not work.He was away last week, now he's back. If he figures out I'm not eating, things may get out of control.



I don't wanna go back to eating

I just don't

Ishould have stayed in Crete

Back to reality, work hits hard on me
At this precise moment my promotion is being discussed. I should have an unofficial answer by the end of the day.
I feel like puking.

In the meanwhile, my main sponsor at work told me how at Partner's meeting, a Partner said "Yeah, but the fact she married S is bound to be a problem. Eventually, we'll have to chose him instead of her, and she's gonna have a bad influence on him"
Seriously?
1. we are not the only married couple in this office and were not the first. we don't work on same projects. there is no fucking problem.
2. besides, this is unfair on so many levels, I don't even want to start sorting them out

this in a company where last month was dedicated to Diversity celebration.

fuck you assholes.

weightwise, things are slow as fuck but at least going in the right direction.
127.4lbs this morning (57.8kg). BMI 20.2

In my secret life

For the first time in the year, woke up at 128.7lbs (58.4kg). 12 lbs gone from January first. BMI from 22.3 to 20.4.

Everybody's commenting on how I look skinnier.

I'm not asking for impossible things: I'd simply like to reach 55kg. C'mon guys, that's a 19.3 BMI. It's still fat, but... It would mean a lot to me.
can I be slim already? pretty please?

In the meanwhile, my best friend ever, who moved back to NYC last summer, called to say she's coming to visit end of May.
Oh, I was so excited! So happy.

Then I founf out she's actually going to Spain with another friend, and afterwards squatting at my place for a couple of days. To Spain, I'm not invited.
This is enough rejection to stop eating until she flies in end of May

argh

My relay marathon is next Sunday

and my idiot husband left our running shoes at his parents place

weight has been stuck for 3 weeks now. fuck, fuck, fuck.

(how the fuck am I gonna run 10k in a decent time with old, overused, no longer having any kind of amortization shoes?)

The doctor said..

I can train. At least, that's what he thinks. I'm allowed to do:
-10min on the elliptical, OR
-10min swimming (crawl or back)
AND
limited squats
AND unlimited pull ups (a if I could do unlimited pull uos...)
AND certain kind of abs crunches

facepalm

basically, this is NOTHING compared to my July training schedule.

ABSOLUTE BAN of: running, stairs, rowing machine, lounges and most of plank exercise.

I shit you not loveys.

In addition, I'm undergoing a therapy that is extremely painful and leaves blues all over my hips and legs - someone at the gym even asked me if I'd been in a car accident yesterday.
Anyway, I'll try to work on the arms and shoulders...sigh...

MRI outcome

The not so bad news is I did not gain weight over the weekend. I trained, ate about one thousand deep fried pumpkin flowers, one shit ton of salad, and somehow, maintained.

The bad news is, I got my MRI scheduled on Monday, and the outcome is, while the bones are fine (which is good I admit), the tendons of both my hips are not fine.
And this means, I'm supposed to stop training.

Now, this is not going to happen.
I'm getting married in 35 days and I'm supposed to fit into that fucking tight dress I bought.

The upside is they gave me different painkillers which are also supposed to smooth the problem, and those DO work, so finally I'm walking almost like a normal girl.
Also, I'm seeing a physiotherapist on weekends.

I did drop the 30 days shred at day 24 (many of the moves hurt too much), and I cannot run.
I have picked up the 6pack6weeks by Jillian Michaels, and I'll try to do the elliptical machine at the gym.
Honestly, this whole thing pisses me off so much I can't even tell you.

Stop training for one month means throwing away months of fatigue and sweat. I hate it! 

The truth about it

Here's the truth.

I know that training is better than fasting.

BUT, fasting deliver weight loss so much faster than training.

And in the end, fasting + training delivers even better results.

dropped 3.7 pounds in 2 days (1.7kg)

if they keep abusing me at work like they did over the past 2 days, I may drop 17kg before vacation (which is like 38 lbs)

Somehow I expect the abusing will go on at the same rate, but the weight loss is bound to slow down. meh.

(22 days into the 30 days shred challenge and still going, level 3 is a bitch. My hip now hurts so badly I can't run, I can barely walk although living on painkillers. Booking an MRI)

stay strong lovelies

not good enough

Inexorably sliding into unhappiness

Hiked Monte Rosa (4.550mt) on Tuesday, and that helped dropping 2kg (which I had previously gained during the weekend).
(Ski touring like that corresponds to 8 hours straight at the gym - it is fucking hard and rewarding t the same time)

"Dad, Mum hates my wedding dress, and everybody else does"
"Lucy, it's probably just the picture that doesn't make it any justice. I'm sure you'll look great with it"
(thank-you dad, I love you very much)

Before the hike I was sure I was not trained enough and worried I was goign to be a burden for Dad and Bro.
It turned out, I was in the best shape, and I had to drag Dad along.
Yet, they are both so skinny, and I am not.

Finally, after my washing machine broke last night, my landlady apparently wants to move in, which means S and i have to be out of the flat by the end of September.
With our wedding on sep4, and our honeymoon right after.

Crap.

On a better note, we'll be in Aruba 10 days in September and then in NYC for 4 days. Can't wait.

There's an old voice in my head, it's my ED talking to me it says it missed our little talks

I don't like walking around this old and empty house
So hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear
The stairs creak as I sleep, it's keeping me awake
It's the house telling you to close your eyes

Some days I can't even trust myself
It's killing me to see you this way

Because though the truth may vary
This ship will carry
Our bodies safe to shore

There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back
I tell her that I miss our little talks
Soon it will all be over, buried with our past
You used to play outside when you were young
Full of life and full of love

Some days I don't know if I am wrong and I am right
Your mind is playing tricks on you my dear

Because though the truth may vary
This ship will carry
Our bodies safe to shore

Don't listen to a word I say
The screams all sound the same

Because though the truth may vary
This ship will carry
Our bodies safe to shore 

Go, go, go away
I wish you'd disappear
All that's left is a ghost of you
Now we're torn, torn, torn apart
There's nothing we can do
Just let me go, me against you
Now wait, wait, wait for me
Please hang around
I see you when I fall asleep

Don't listen to a word I say
The screams all sound the same 

Because though the truth may vary
This ship will carry
Our bodies safe to shore  


As always, in my dreams I'm still skinny, just like I used to be.

Excuse my bitterness, who's fasting with me?

(Post written on Thursday evening)

So, what are the plans for the weekend? Oh, yes, I’m missing the small birthday party Bro was throwing for me (not Keith of course, my other Bro). Just a nice BBQ with friends, possibly the Pirate. I guess most peopledon’t attend their own birthday party because they spend the weekend working, huh?
The Boyfriend is attending his best friend stag this weekend. In Budapest.
Do I need to be more explicit or are we clear that I’m going to work all weekend while he’s getting laid in Budapest?
I always suffered competition with chicks for Eastern Europe. It’s easy: guys who like me are into girls with blond hair, fair skin, blue eyes (yes, tall, because hey, I come from Italy, so taller than 5’6 is tall here).
So he’s getting laid in Budapest.
I’m home alone.

So I fasted all day, and then I shot an email to my skinny Alejandro, hot like Mexico friend with benefits. I thought what the hell, if Boyfriend is getting laid by some slut at a stupid stag, I can get laid by my dear slim Alejandro, can’t I? Boyfriend would never know anyway.
Of course I didn’t exactly wrote “Hey, booty call, bring your ass to my place pronto!”.
It was more on the lines of “Hey, wanna grab a beer Friday/Saturday night?”
So I cannot blame anyone but myself if Alejandro answered that he’s sorry, but he’s going to the sea for the weekend. I should have told him I was waiting for him naked and hot. How the hell should he understand that he’s getting lucky, when we haven’t had real sex in 4 years? And of course I cannot possibly tell him about the stag, because well, it’s none of his business.

Oh, needless to say, I binged after getting his answer.
And of course, I’m such a lousy bitch I cannot wait for Alejandro to come on Monday night. Because by then, Boyfriend won’t be in Budapest anymore, and I would feel too guilty. Fuck me, why am I so dumb?

Friday morning update:125lbs. Fuck me.

Friday 4PM (Western Europe time): I'm starting a fast. For as long as I can. Anyone joining me?