Confession.

So recently I have allowed my negative and bitter feelings to sort of, maybe, almost totally comsume my life. After some reflective time outside today and rereading some recent text messages I sent while intoxicated, I realized I need some readjustment of my feelings. I admit I internalize things, I don't like to get unwanted attention, I don't like inconviencing people, I don't like being a burden. So imagine my surprise when it seems this starts to backfire on me.

I've been depressed about the lack of control of my life. No job, no one to love me, no moving to New York for another year, no friends left in my home town. I have never, and I repeat never had an eating problem before...I love food. I eat like a fat kid, normally. But I'd say the last 1 1/2 to 2 weeks I haven't  really been eating. I'd have a yogurt or cereal for breakfast, eat no lunch, munch on some wheat thins, and then have some of whatever my parents made for dinner.I just haven't felt hungry cause I haven't really been doing much besides lounging around my house. I'd say it was just me adjusting to the sudden summer weather, since me and heat always seems to disagree at the beginning of the summer...but this weekend kinda tipped me off that I need more food.

Friday. I had a bagel from dunkin dounts with strawberry cream cheese and an iced coffee and went to the beach. A small cup of ice cream and I can't remember what for dinner.

Saturday. Yogurt in the morning. Large gatorade after a 2 mile walk. Then had all of 6 raviolis for dinner, before driving to Onset to go to Britteny's family's cookout. I had some more wheat thins with hummus.


I woke up Sunday morning at 4 a.m. in a dead sweat and pounding headache. I figured because I feel asleep without my AC on that was reason, so I turned it on and went back to sleep. Fast forward to 7 a.m. when I wake up feeling like some kicked my head in, my headache was that bad, and to top it off I felt nauseous. I knew I needed fluids and food asap. So I picked my body up out of my bed and journeyed to go downstairs. I didn't make it to my bedroom door before my eyes went black, head was pulsing to my heartbeat, and I felt like I was gonna overheat [even though my AC was set to 69 degrees]. I knew this was not good. I continued heading downstairs, at the bottom of the stairs my eyes went black again, so I sat on the bottom step for a moment. Got myself an OJ, gatorade and banana and made my way back up to my room. I then forced myself to down the OJ and banana before going back to bed. When I woke up at 10 a.m. I felt like the things before had never happened. I knew I probably shouldn't drink or go to the cookout, but fuck that. It was my fault that I hadn't eaten and I was not going to miss having a good time, plus I felt fine. And to be completely honest besides the accident with my foot, I can say that I've felt healthy and fine since then. Minus the morning after drinking for 12 hours, I never eat the morning after drinking.

Sunday. To go orange juice and a banana. Large gatorade. Bowl of cereal and then off to Sturbridge for my friend's cookout/birthday party. Starting drinking vodka and sprite. Had some clam chowdah and macaroni salad. More vodka and sprite. Triscuits. More vodka and sprite.
Monday. 5 bites of a dunkin donuts bagel with strawberry cream cheese. A hot dog before going to the ER to get my foot looked at. Wheat thins and some other snack things after.

I have started eating again this week, forcing myself to. Partly because I know I need to and partly because of the antibiotics I'm on. I guess besides Sunday morning, my tip off was that I've lost 4 pounds in the last week. I haven't weighed myself this week, Saturday was the last day I did. I weighed in at 126. [Now I know I'm skinny and I'm not stating this to brag]. When I left school I was about 133/135. Sometime in June I settled into 130 because of some lose of what I assume to be muscle tone and the summer weather. Due to my height I shouldn't really be 126. I'm borderline underweight/normal. My BMI is 18.6, anything below 18.5 is underweight. I know that I shouldn't have used food to control any part of my life. I don't need to be on a diet, so not eating isn't really an option for me. I acknowledge that I am indeed depressed. I can't just not eat because I'm depressed. Getting skinnier isn't going to bring him back or make me prettier. I still need calories even if I'm not as active as I used to be. I promise everyone that I will start taking care of myself again. Last week was my version of rock bottom. I don't like being there and I don't want to go back there. I will not allow myself to alter myself because of someone else conscience or unconsciously. I will not be weak. I will not be weak anymore.