Shattering

My Facebook Status currently recites:

Kiss me hard before you go,
Ste#@*° #+%§§i
I just wanted you to know
That Baby, you're the best

The name is that of my husband, who left over 10  days ago for Colorado (I'm in Europe).

All dolled up (in a professional way) for the Board of Directors that's happening, I know that, while I was one of the white knights of the Company until last week, I'm now in the shit house. The deal that everyone believed secure, blew up. On the same day they announced 700 employees will be made redundant.

No wonder I've got that summertime sadness.
It doesn't matter, I'll be back on my feet.



Got my bad baby by my heavenly side: I know if I fast, I'll die happy tonight
Plan is liquid fast from now (Wednesday afternoon) until Friday night or Saturday morning if it can be managed (considering I have a 120km drive ahead on Friday night and I do not wish to really die - I just wish I could disappear).
I haven't fasted this way in a very long time, but right now, I need to see change happening.
And to see it happening that fast, there's only one way.

Stay strong lovelies

bad

Lana Del Rey is killing me

Work is killing me

Being fat is killing me

Kiss me all before you go, summertime sadness
I just wanted you to know
that baby, you're the best

Mid year moderation meeting at work. Turns out I'm the best of my group. Yet, there may be no place for promotions. Which I already did not get last year.

I'm fat. I'm ashamed of my fatness.

Just wanna go back to when I was 16 and skinny
Living in the UK summertime with Kat, who really was the best at that time.

I really really really feel miserable in my body. I wish I could just no longer care about work and focus on training and dieting.

I cannot die, because then I'd stay fat forever. Nothing scares me more.

Kat is gone, my sweet 16 are gone, the time when I was skinny's gone.

All that's left is this fat sitting on my belly, on my bootie, on my legs, every fucking where.

Goodbye my friend

Goodbye my friend.

You have been a good companion, for 9 years you have been always there for us.
You were always home whenever I cam home, waiting for me on the door mat into your small house.

You were always ready to cuddle into my lap, ronfing yourself to sleep, pawning softly my legs.

9 years ago, in early September you came along, 20 days old, meowing in desperation after being abandoned. It was a lovely sunny day, just like yesterday.

You were so shy, you rarely left the garden.

Why did you have to cross the road yesterday?

To whomever hit you with the car:
I know sometimes accidents happens. But you should have stopped to ring my bell. I would have taken you 2 minutes. Instead you just kept driving, leaving Salomé dying there on the concrete. I hope you get run over by a car and that nobody helps you. I hope you lay there suffering too.

I found her laying outside the gate, she tried to come home. I looked to heartbeat and breath, but she was gone already.
I was so annihilated when some people passing by stopped looking at me, crouched by her, I screamed at them.

You were my first and only cat, and I'll never forget you. I miss you so much already, it hurts so badly.

Rest in peace Salomé, my beautiful and loved friend.

Sand in my brains

I go on like a robot, dragging myself to work every morning, going to the gym, smiling and answering kindly. Something's wrong, many things are wrong, and I don't know where to start in order to do some spring cleaning in this mess. And then like a ray of light I realize I long so badly for being in Nepal. For spending days away from the frantic, from the smog, from the telephones and emails. Where the soul would be in harmony with the body Where the fat wouldn't matter so much The friends are moving abroad, one by one, they've been doing that for years. I'm the only one who came back. As they leave, my loneliness increases, becoming more and more intoxicating.

Then this thing turned out so evil, I don't know why I'm still surprised

(to my ED) But you'll always be my hero, even though you've lost your mind I keep swinging. I don't even ultra-super-mega binge. Honest. I never get to the point I consider puking. Then I realize I've fagocitated 2500kcals in a single day. ...and it's sick that all these battles, are what keeps me satisfied... I don't know. My mounth is still tore up due to the tooth estraction, therefore puking is not an option. I've never been much of a MIA, but I'm considering this: I need to drop the fat. I must stop the binge. Therefore, (as soon as my mouth heals), I may consider throwing up after bingeing, as a punishment (I don't believe in throwing up for losing weight: it takes 20minutes to absorb the calories; my massive overeating happens at the parents' place, where coffee goes on for a while after eating, so puking would happen too late to help). Effing disgusting, I know. I must stop running away, and start facing reality. Each calory counts. At least I'm still training hard.. On to another subject. Bloggers sometimes disappear. Sometimes someone we specially care for disappears, and when it's within the blogorexia, it's often scary. Did they drop out because they're happy? I hope so, but often don't believe it. Marcus from Do you like lemones? disappeared, and even cancelled his blog. Marcus, I hope you're doing great, but I miss you. Miss Burton, on the other hand, may be back. I really hope she decides to come back to the blogorexia, because I missed her too! Belle, who later turned into Rogue, is another beautiful person I lost track of. And I think everybody remembers (wonders?) about Ana Regziz. Love you all sweeties. I'm not commenting much, but I'm still reading!