work fattie, work

Welcome, we love you, we hate you, we love you
We want you, we need you - we wish we were like you
They say you're a saint, you're a whore, you're a sinner
That he had you
He made you
He can't live without you.

Would you confess if we asked
That you nurture the urge
To declare that it's time
To settle down
With a man of your own
You want a baby
A family
A piece of security

Shut your mouth
Try not to panic
Just shut your mouth
If you can do it

(Garbage "Shut your mounth)

This feels very appropriate.

The partnership admission process started again and I'm in. They said I have a 50% chance. I have not told them I have just sold a €1million project.

Went to buy a pair of jeans today. I must start saying the truth at some point, so here it is: I started the year at my maximum weight ever: 160 pounds. Officially fat, for real, with a BMI of 25.4 and the lowest muscle mass ever. So far, I've only dropped 5 pounds.

I tried the jeans on and felt so ashamed.

These words

All I ever wanted was you: I’ll never get to heaven, ‘cause I don’t know how.

Let’s raise a glass or two, to all the things I’ve lost on you, tell me are they lost on you? Just that you could cut me loose, after everything I’ve lost on you, is that lost on you?

My god, these words. Oh, skinny Lucy, the things I lost on you and in the end I don't have you.

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

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.

Formidable

16 days into the 30 days shred challenge.
I did the 30ds train 15 times, plus I've been running 4 times (much less than usual, but I have an aching hip, due to an old rheumatism.

I feel like an old witch
I look like an obese seal.

I kinda hate myself

Tell me how ugly I am, but that you'll always love me

Every year, for some reasons, I’m miserable for my birthday. It’s usually one of the worst weeks of the year.

Mostly, my family makes me miserable. They don’t mean to, yet they manage to make me cry every year. It’s true, I always say my bday isn’t a big deal to me, but hell, of course I’m lying. I do it because back in my teenage things used to go so wrong that deep down I’m still afraid of celebrations.

Steve will be away, since my birthday’s on Wednesday. That’s bad enough, but at least he’s flying in for the weekend. I asked him to take his Friday off, so we could spend a long weekend at my parents’ place by the lake, but when he bought the ticket he forgot, so our weekend will basically last one day and a half.

Bro promised long ago to arrange BBQ at his place on Saturday night with friends. When I called him on Saturday, to compliment him about his performance on a national regatta, I asked him about details. The answer? “Oh, I totally forgot. Sorry Sis, I’m working on Saturday, so that can’t be done”. I didn’t complain but it hurt like hell.

Finally, after planning the weekend with my parents, last night dad told me they’re leaving for a short trip on Wednesday and they probably won’t be home before Sunday night (we’re leaving on Sunday at noon, since Steve’s got his flight on Sunday afternoon).

Sorry if I’m childish, but I do feel neglected.

But the truth is, the worst thing is there’s only one thing that would really make me happy. The only gift I want is for Steve to ask me. And this is not going to happen.

Oh, also, Dad had something to tell me last night, after we went running 4 miles. He said I need to drop weight pronto. He said I look awful, that I’m at my worst ever and that I need to stop eating right now. And of course he’s right, but it kinda hurts when people you love feel that they need to say it, doesn’t it?

Maybe I shouldn't take love for granted. Maybe they just don't love me anymore because I'm ugly. And after all, I should have known it. Nobody loves failures.

Ouch

I'm almost 125 lbs. BMI 19.82

Fuck me.

I kinda look pregnant.

I hate myself.

It's just... I am so sad, I feel so hopeless, I can't stop indulging.

I know, that's not a good excuse.

Forgive me. I'll get better, I promise.

It feels like it's all collapsing

The first, most important thing I want to write is how happy I am for Marcus. You are amazing!!!

Also, I want to thank you all lovely people for your comments, your support. Matilda, loved to hear from you! Ancora, I really missed you, it’s good to see you’re posting again!

Sadly, the rest of the post won’t be on the same mood.

After two solid days of fasting, I’m at 122.8lbs. I’m not giving up. Over the last two days, the only calories I’ve had came from 4 nuts and half of a green apple, plus some sugar free gum and two beers (I’ll explain). I’m still fasting and hopefully I’ll manage to go on until Friday night/Saturday morning. My red bracelet is helping me.

Steve came back last night and called me to chat. I proposed hanging out, because I don’t like much to talk on the phone, and he asked me to join him and his flat-mate for dinner. He said he would buy me green salad, I said I would get to his place but I didn’t need dinner.

I brought over a green apple to show him I eat, and had half of it, plus the beers. We hung out with his flat-mate, a nice girl we’ll call Robin, talked about work, his trip to Greece, Robin’s dates and so on. Then she went to sleep, and soon my beer number two started to taste and smell funky. I was feeling dizzy and weak, and keep in mind that both outside and inside it was over 90F (32-33 Celsius).

As soon as Robin went to her room, Steve got closer and hugged me. I probably looked tired because he asked if I was feeling good and I said I wasn’t. And then he asked me what was wrong, and I don’t know why, I blurted out “Because I’ve been fasting for 48 solid hours”. I regretted it instantly, but he didn’t say anything. He got up, hugged me tight and asked if I wanted to stay for the night. I said I’d better go home, and he offered to walk me home, but I declined, saying I’d rather felt like taking my bike.

So he walked me out, hugged me tightly again, and started kissing me.

I mean, it wasn’t even a French kiss, but he really was into it.

“Don’t go” he whispered

“I can’t. I’m sick. And it’s not a good idea anyway. Forgive me. Please” I turned my head and let it rest on his chest.

“You’re sure you will manage to get home safe?”

I nodded.

“Okay. I’d better let you go now. Or I don’t guarantee I’ll control myself much longer”. I could feel he was turned on, and nodded. He broke the hug, then hugged me quickly and whispered “Be safe” and backed off. And I went home. The air on my face helped me feeling better, I got home and texted him to let him know I was fine. I drank 2 liters of water to help me get rid of the beer, and went to sleep.

I’m afraid. Steve knows about my EDNOS. Steve may have feelings for me. What am I afraid of?

No. 1: this could lead into breaking Steve’s heart.

No. 2: this could lead into losing the best friend I have

No. 3: I still want to be in his arms. I feel he's the only link to reality I still have.

And, I feel I’m losing control. Why on earth did I admit I was fasting? What am I, an idiot?

I'm not just afraid.

I'm scared.