Saturday, October 16, 2010

35lbs to go

The scale says 125 today..
Here we go, time to whip this body into shape.
Thirty five till I reach my suppossed goal, and then what?
Oh yea I remember, I'm happy?
Yesterday I fasted, day four this week, no Mia. I woke up at six am again, more of the same from last night's lax. I undress and weigh-125!
I take my supps and lay back down in the cold dark room. I'm getting there finally. My head throbs and my throat is parched. I'm depleted, all my liquid gone. I plan to keep going again today, nothing in my stomach but water and organs. I want to hit 120 already, I want to just get there. I want to finally just rest for a few days. I wonder if that chance will happen for me. Can I really go a day without the scale, without counting calories and fats, without exercise?

What is really going to happen when the number on the scale matches the limitless one in my head? I don't know.
You do this for so long it becomes all you know, your new identity, your life. How do you disassociate from that? How do you live again without the Ed?
Again---A Gain?
I think to myself sometimes, rationalize the sickness and say I'll get there and just maintain, but there's a part of me deep down inside that knows that's total BS..
Ugh weekends.
8am and the room is freezing, (actual temp 75 degrees) I am constantly in a state of winter. My body can't seem to regulate the tempature. I'm swaddled under layers of blankets and clutching the pillow. Both cats huddled between my legs, there unsual spot for slumber every night.
I fell asleep with the Ipod on, drifting off listening to the new Kings of Leon album "Come Around Sundown"  (I plead the fifth on where I got it from!)
and dreaming of Caleb Followill whisking me off to Tennessee and showing me how to plow and the proper way to use a hoe (insert inuendo's here)..
I'm momentarily happy, suddenly the little voice starts squeaking in the background, whispering at first, then increasing the volume with the quickening daylight seeping through my black curtains, my daughter is up.
"Pancakes!" she exlcaims while jumping on my back and bouncing up and down. The cats meow and are kicked and flopped every which way, they themselves wishing for more sleep. I thought I could sleep in, guess not.
Pancakes? ah yes, now I remember, in yesterday's euphoric non eating day four haze, I agreed to make a nice breakfast today for my lil miss.
I thought kids like to sleep late on weekends? Nope my daughter is the opposite, on weekdays she sleeps like the dead, a little stone statue under purple sheets. Weekends? hyper, chatty kathy!
She remembered my promise-sometimes I think my daughter is part Elephant mixed with a bit of Macaw, she remembers everything and repeats it all!
So I'm up..whoah.
Okay I'm back down, real dizzy today. I have to get up slowly, the room is cold, I cut the air off and get a sweater on, I have the shakes today, its been a minute since that's happened, means low glucose. I'm out of orange juice, I think I'll just bear it. Teeth are brushed and animals are fed. I am a zombie slaving over a stove, I'm so tired. I'm clutching the counter for support, my back is horrid, sore so sore? I'm starting to wonder if its any organs back there crying in pain instead of muscle. Grr dizziness! I may have to stay in bed wether I like it or not. The breakfast is done. No pancakes, I made french toast instead, pancakes are a no no in this house.
Why? well all Mia's know about pancakes, yum to eat, a bitch to bring back up! Hence the banishment. Besides the toast taste better, less butter and I make it from whole wheat bread so good for you too-boo pancakes!
Success, my first motherly chore done!
Hmm day five with Ana is off to a rocky start. In addition to the toast, the usual suspects bacon and eggs. My daughter is pleased and has plenty of energy to continue her tyranny on this dizzy Saturday.
Hubby is up and getting ready for work. Ah you see how the thing plays out. I would normally be rejoicing at this moment, his leaving would mean a b/p session, instead my trembling figure remind me that something like that is not the best idea right now. I'm really dehydrated and low on sugar. I crawl back under the covers and pray for strength. Mia is here with me today. I hear the nag, I feel like crying. I can't do this today, I don't want to.
The voice is clear and loud- 'all your pains will be gone if you just let me help you? why do you fight me so hard?'
I feel like popping an OEP, but here comes the voices, the ones that tell me how every little thing is out to get me and I'm one mistake from the hospital or death?
Its too early for this shit.
Husband is gone an hour later, my daughter is in her bed watching TV and playing with the kitties. I'm scared to move from this spot, the minute I do, I don't know what I'll do. I want to be strong, I want to resist the ritual, the sacrifice. Online now and chatting with a friend, at least someone who gets me, understands my struggle as it is her equal and individual struggle too.
Now I'm crying, I don't want to give in. Why can't I do this? Its already past noon and my willpower is abandoning me slowly..

I don't know what I'm going to do yet. The day is long and I'm just not that strong.
I can't even restrict anymore, I'm past that now. So thirsty and the idea of anything inside is too much, I think I may have to stop drinking anything again. I wasn't even going to lax last night, yet after the workout and the 32 ounces of water I innocently consumed, for some reason the number on the scale went up, the panic set in and I needed to get it out. Today I'm afraid it will be more of the same..
Its not good for me and I'm only driving this car off road more that way, but what is it that's going to get through to me and convince me otherwise?
Day five with Ana, hard.
Today is hard.
I don't know what I'm going to do yet.