drowned

I've been swept up in the boy fog, to the detriment of pretty much every other facet of my life. Actually, even my romantic life seems to be suffering from the tumult of it all. And now I'm also perpetually late, disorganised and fat. Why oh why do I await his calls so intently? Drowning, drowning, drowning in boy fog, waiting to be dashed against the rocks.


Maybe that's the thrill of it. Knowing at any moment you're about to have your heart torn out and kind of loving how terrifying it is.

Although midst the mayhem there is a little stability. When I'm with him he distracts me from my war on food. When my heart is in my mouth there isn't much space for anything else. From time to time he suggests meals (he took me to his parents' house for dinner last week) but I am so eager to impress him that my modesty and moderation come without any effort at all.

I think my weight has stabilised at around 56kg. Sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. I'm grateful that it isn't continuing to climb, but when I am alone it is still a frantic struggle every day. Trying not to eat, and overeating, and vomiting. And I don't think I'll ever be comfortable at this weight. I felt huge today, conscious of every part of my flabby body. The moist stickiness of my thighs squeezing past each other when I walked. I ate horribly at work, considered it a write off so binged and threw up when I got home this evening.

I have too much access and am allowing myself too many concessions. Unlimited biscuits and muffins, jam donuts, breakfast meetings brimming with pastries, free lunches... as soon as I allow myself to say yes to even a little bit the day is blown. I can't control myself. I need to stop touching it. I need to stop touching a lot of things. I need to remember how it feels good to feel hungry. I need to take off this icky 5 kilos of fat I have piled on since my low weight.

I suppose I am very needy indeed.
What I really need is to swim out of this damn fog!