Okay. I went to bed finally a little after 2 in the morning, after doing 175 sit-ups (I was supposed to do 250, but my stomach hurt really bad after just 100 so I decided only half of what I needed to do more). I was having this crazy dream where I was screaming and the next thing I know I'm awake in bed crying and moaning because my stomach is killing me. I'm going to be sick. It's 3:30 in the morning and I moan at my little brother to help me to the bathroom (I was keeled over). He gets up and gets a bucket with water first and then comes back to get me and walk me to the bathroom where I spend 10 minutes excreting all the lovely shit I ate into the toilet. It was so gross and painful, and it felt like hot acid crawling up my throat. I was so glad it was gone. I drank a lot of water and contemplated taking some water pills but didn't in fear that I would be sick again. Which I was. I went into my older brother's room to have a cigarette and as I was sitting there, more comes up. He hands me an empty cup and I go clean it out. I go back to bed.
I had set my alarm for 8:30 this morning. It went off and I fell back asleep because I felt shitty. I woke up 45 minutes later and did my usual. I gained three freaking pounds. THREE. One, two, THREE. Disgusting. I throw my work pants in the wash and hop in the shower. Off to work at eleven.
I get to work and it's crazy all day because tomorrow is the super bowl so everyone is buying their disgusting chips and soda. Jennifer was there for the first 30 minutes of my shift. She asked how I was feeling; I haven't seen or talked to her since the day she told me she knew about my ed. I told her I was okay, that I got sick this morning, but I've been okay, I guess. She leaves. Another woman who works customer service - and apparently is the only person that Jennifer talks to - Wendy, calls me to courtesy. She's the one who got me my work shirts finally, and the one who checked out all my junk food yesterday. I went up there and she gave me my official name tag. It's so much better than the one I had, which had a magnetic clasp thing. This one has a clip, says my name in big, bold capital letters, has a picture of some fruit and says "Serving you since 2011." For some reason, this made me smile. A lot. I smiled for the rest of the day. And I got some random energy. I just kept moving and moving, and I wouldn't stop. People kept looking at me, but I didn't care. I got off at 4 finally. I clocked out and called my mom to ask if she needed me to pick up anything. I got her some sour cream, onion soup mix, and cream of mushroom soup, as well as more crystal light hunger satisfaction, more water pills and a Snickers bar for my little brother as a thank-you for last night (I know, I'm really sappy). Wendy checked me out at customer service. I tried to make conversation to make it less awkward. She probably thinks I'm weird. Yesterday I buy a ton of crap, today I buy water pills and hunger satisfaction drinks. We end up talking about jury duty and then I left.
I came home and put everything down before going to the bathroom to change and weigh myself again. It said the same thing it said this morning: too much. Went online for a little bit and then sat in bed to watch My Girl on TV. I suddenly felt really, really hungry. I went in the kitchen and almost lost it and had crap. I thankfully ended up grabbing some lettuce and my reduced fat french dressing. Then I was still hungry. There was a bag of tortilla chips that only had crumbs left, so I ate the rest. I'm just at 500 for the day and that's all I'm letting myself do. I really wasn't supposed to have anything at all after last night's horrible binge. I'm scared I will weigh more again tomorrow. I really hate this. At least I ate before 6:30. I have off until Tuesday and I need, need, need to keep busy and stay away from food. I'm kind of mad that I'm not working tomorrow because it's super bowl Sunday and my mom is cooking.
Lately I feel so... blah. I don't even know what day it is anymore. Every day is the same. I try to do different things, but it doesn't make a difference. I'm missing something, and I don't know what it is. I don't know what I want, and I think that's my problem (or one of many). I'm lost.
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