I’m tired. Really tired. I worked out today and I ate 30 pretzel sticks. Then I passed out, so I ate 30 more. I’m still really tired. Eating some more will help me wake up but it will also make me feel gross. So… what’s worse, being really really really tired and needing to get things done or being really really really fat and feeling sad and not doing anything.
So no more cheezits for me. Fuck. I really liked them.
My mother, 400 pounds, is sitting in front of me eating a bowl of cheezits. Now I want to vomit and I associate eating cheezits with being fat. Four years ago I saw a 450 pound woman drinking a diet pepsi. Haven’t touched Pepsi since.
Ok so it’s August. Wow summer is gone by fast. I cannot fit into my winter clothes so August will be devoted to making this happen. I want to be 110 pounds a.s.a.p. I am 138 today. I want to make 120 by September 1 so I can be all beautiful and ready for my birthday on the 15th. No one around me supports my goals to be glamorously skinny; I don’t care. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. And my husband is being deployed at the end of the month and I cannot bear the thought of him leaving and thinking of me as being fat. I want him to leave and see me at my best.