update

I haven't posted in quite awhile.
I guess I haven't been focused on recovery a whole lot, or really struggling too much. I have slip-ups once or twice a month, but I'm moving along.
I've been eating mostly very healthy, that always helps.

Just still working on self-image and being content with my body. Maybe if I talked more about it, I'd feel proactive.

Trying right now. It's a daily struggle. The gym helps for sure.

Anticipation, anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting

And tomorrow we might not be together
I'm no prophet, I don't know natures way
So I'll try to see into your eyes right now
And stay right here, cause these are the good old days.

slip and fall

While I may not be purging as of late, I'm feeling a sinking feeling.. hating myself, my body. I seem to want to drink as an escape. I can't drink as much as my self-hatred would like me to. Not doing so hot, feeling pretty self-destructive. I hate that I feel so easily rejected, too needy, and just plain tired.

There's work ahead of me.

psych, date nights oh my

So I saw my psychiatrist today.. after a longish hiatus. He says I seem to be "doing well.. better." I always sort of laugh to myself about these things, because my therapist knows a hell of a lot more about how I 'am' than he does. Psychiatrists are this weird.. force. They prescribe your meds, that's fairly it. For me it always has been at least. I'm coming in here to see you for 15 minutes to get refills, dude. I may seem cool as a cucumber right, but seriously, you haven't the slightest clue. And I always get this feeling that he worries that I'm going to abuse Clonazepam. Dude! And I haven't had a refill since November... But he always asks how many I'm taking as if he's worried. Yeah, I have an alcohol abuse problem at times, but I'm not going to swallow 3 clonazepams a day.. my schedule simply won't allow it.
Ha. I like him just fine, I really do, I'm just letting my thoughts flow.
And I'm not totally sober right now so bare with me.

Me and the hubby had a date night. We went to the Olive Garden and had a wonderful time together. 2 glasses of wine, 2 small margaritas, and 1 beer later with a towel on my head, I'm ready to hit the sack.

I can not wait til my next work vacation. I love you, week of September 28th.. please come soon.

take two

I've had a slip-up this morning. Going to try and start fresh again.

However.. last night I was feeling anxious and out of sorts, so I went to the gym instead of wallowing in the self-destructive thoughts. Working out helped my mood a whole lot.

I don't have a lot to say.. don't want to dwell on the incident that was this morning's binge. I'm going to dust myself off and try and relax before my little one wakes up.

mood swing

It changes quickly, so quickly.
Uphill struggle.
I ate a normal (?) amount for dinner, but found myself on the verge of mental combustion wanting to purge.
I'm a wee bit intoxicated right now, so I think it's intensifying the bad thoughts, negativity. I'm not to the point of being so tipsy I don't care. I'm right on the edge.
Plus, I need sleep. I haven't slept since working an all-nighter last night.
Here's to waking up refreshed tomorrow morning.

productivity instead of the alternative

Things I can get accomplished when I choose not to spend two hours out of my day binging and purging:

• unload and load the dishwasher
• clean counter tops
• paint my nails blue
• go to the grocery store especially to buy Drake bananas because Oswald showed an episode about "great big banana day"
• do laundry
• sweep the laundry room and kitchen
• scrub the toilet (oh the irony!)
• take out trash

I'm glad that my childlike-behaviored eating disorder has so far gotten through a five hour stretch leaving me unscathed.

flailing

This disorder is like a child who can't be left unattended. If I am left unattended with my disorder, I have an "accident".. a flare up?

The moment I'm left on my own (when Kenneth isn't home), it takes over and makes autopilot choices. I feel out of control at that point, and I wind up eating then puking my guts out. Then my eyes get like this, all watery. My throat hurts, I have messes to clean up, trash to hide from a suspecting husband.
And in the end, my day has been alloted about an hour to recover from this little disaster that happened all too willingly, yet- in a fog.