Easing back in

Apologies for the depressing post that will now ensue. I am not a happy bunny. I thought I was out of the melancholia that hit me last week but I seem to be slipping back into it. I was so, so pumped for this week. Had high hopes after seeing Caro yesterday that I could get my shit together this week and just go for it. But for the 3rd week in a row I haven't turned up to school... why? Because I'm failing at it and I'm too scared to face my teacher, along with the big fat ugly truth. Just like I am failing at every other area of my life at the moment. I still haven't managed to find a part-time job. None of the ones I've applied for have had the decency to get back to me. This is a disaster. I'm broke as fuck. I can't afford any new clothes and I really need some. The jeans I bought don't fucking fit me, I'm down to a dress and a pair of tights and a baggy pair of stretch leggings and a couple of hoodies. Everything else makes me look chubby. I want to get my hair done nicely, get my streak taken out and have it made all nice and healthy and shiny. Maybe get some side pieces and the ends sorted out seeing as I haven't had it cut in about 2 years. But I don't even seem to have enough money to get on a bus let alone go to a professional salon for an expensive hair cut. I'm failing at losing weight, big time. My ability to restrict or simply just contain my desire to eat everything in the cupboards has gone out of the window entirely. I'm 146 freaking pounds this morning. I mean, seriously. What the fuck. I never let it get this bad. I'm broke and I still manage to get fat! I was reading back through old conversations with Rebecca last night to purposely trigger myself. We used to go for such long stretches of time not fucking up or slipping, it was insane. Then at the end we would have a huge binge in the comfort of her flat... her parents were never there and we could just do whatever we liked. Blare music, smoke, drink, eat pizza. Then we'd take a shit ton of laxatives at the end of the night and the next day would be a fast day, so <50 calories in liquids and tons of water and of course dying on the toilet every hour or so. My sane side remembers it as grim but my disordered side totally yearns for that time period and almost romanticises it. Even though it was obviously fucked up and painful and awful and hideous and scary and insane... it was also scarily fun. Having someone to do all this shit with. Someone who wouldn't judge you and could keep you in check. Idolising our goal weights, drooling over this dress, that haircut, oh wouldn't that look so nice if we were thin. When we're skinny we'll do this, go there, see that. Meet these people, attend these shows, eat these foods. I fucking miss that in my life. Someone I could confide in and even better, someone to do these dirty terrible things with. All this shit must have worked, as well, because she went from 132 to 103 in four months, and I went from 156 to 139. She maintained the low weight because she built back up slowly rather than bingeing, unlike useless old me.

Where the fuck is Rebecca?

The truth has dawned on me. And the truth is that I have never managed to successfully jump straight back into restricting after bingeing, at least not unless I fast the day afterwards, and I haven't done that since last year. I just need to take it slow - no rush, I have the whole year to do this, right? So I might as well take my goddamn time and draw the process out for as long as possible. After all, the slower you lose weight, the easier it is to keep it off. So I'm easing myself gently back into that carefully conditioned zone I've been lusting after for so many months. Trying to run before you can walk never works. Tomorrow I will begin my first stretch of trying to stick to 900 calories a day - no more, no less - until I can get my weight down to an acceptable level. When I've mastered that for a while without slipping up, I'll lower it to 600. Hopefully that will plummett me into the 130s, and I'll take it from there, slowly getting more restrictive until I wind up at new low weights. If I did it once, I can do it before, right?

Blah.

Off to my unpaid theatre job now. Fun times. Apologies for the rant.