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Monday, December 6, 2010

109 Monday

                                                                                           Mood:Cold
Last night I laxed.
I'm at 109lbs today.
I'm still sick, my left ear is plugged and hurting, I wonder if I have an ear infection?
The lax kicked in really late and I've been up every hour since 3am.
The Alarm goes off at 6am and its time to wake up and start the day. I'm out of bananas, looks like no breakfast for me today. I go ahead and start to do exercises in the dark bedroom.
My husband is  sound asleep, he has no idea I wake up every morning and do this. How must this look?
I'm doing crunches, leg lifts, push-ups..
I'm up and working out quietly trying to alter my body while everyone else is asleep and carefree.
He has no idea how bad I've gotten, I don't think anyone knows, if they only knew the truth they would all cry. I would be pitied.
Finally at 7am its time for my daughter to wake up and get ready for school, by then I've already showered and dressed.
I get her ready, breakfast is served and I kill time online for a minute before its time to drop her off.
This morning, its really cold. I have one sweater that fits, and its not a heavy one.
I recently bought clothes, and I've already outgrown them. This is annoying.
I need a real sweater I'm afraid.
My daughter is dropped off. I don't even bother looking at my crush anymore, I'm in and out. I can't even tell you if this person gives a dam or not. I'm sure I'm easily replaceable, who in there right mind would ever get hung up on me?
Its really cold and I need to get back home, I'm dizzy and sick, the nausea from only having pills in my stomach is too much today.
At home I go back to bed only to be interrupted every so often from a phone call from my sister. I answer the phone groggily and talk real fast.
My husband shakes me awake awhile later to ask the time..
I remind him of my daughter's school play that's today at 6pm.
She needs black shoes and has none. My husband suggest we hit a couple of thrift stores and remedy that problem.
At the thrift store I find her shoes and eye a sweater that cost a mere 12$
Its a long black duster and I love it. Its small and I have some black boots that would go nicely with it. My husband says there is no money for it, and so my sweater is put back on the rack and I leave the store disappointed and empty handed.
At least my daughter has her shoes.
At home my husband makes coffee and watches TV while I lay back in bed and start to think and think and think....
I'm so triggered.
I want nothing more than to b/p right now. To say fuck you Lou, you stupid bitch, this is your life, and that is your husband and you deserve to every horrible meaningless thing that happens to you.
I close my eyes and hold the tears in.
Its time to get my daughter from school, my husband volunteers and when he leaves I cry.
I can't believe how pitiful 12 dollars can really be. I can't believe that I have to resort to begging for anything, that I have someone else responsible for so much that pertains to me.
I cry and I pray to God.
I don't pray much, I have too much shame. I feel hypocritical asking God for anything. I'm not living a righteous life, here I am wasting my life away and wasting food to do what?
What is it I'm trying to accomplish exactly?
I don't know?
I prayed for an exit. I prayed for a life that didn't involve this man. I prayed for forgiveness.
I get out of bed and start to clean the house, less things to do before my daughter gets home.
My husband comes home awhile later and my daughter is made lunch and tonight's play is discussed.
My face is somber.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" my husband asks as I'm bending over and cleaning the litter box.
He comes behind me and touches me. He grabs my small waist and feels my spine which is visible now when I bend over. He moves his hands up and grabs my ribcage. Under my breasts, the small caved in flesh that lie there are now home to the first signs of rib cage.
His touch feels like a medical exam. He never says what he really thinks, does he say wow I can feel her bones, or does he simply say I never knew she had any. I will never know I suppose.
I see them now.
Its not much, but they are there, they give me a little comfort and they also make me wonder how much more do I have to lose before they all will show?
My bones are hard, I never realized how hard bones really felt before.
I tell him I'm not crying of course.
He tells me we should go back to the store and get my sweater. He always does this, Deny's me something and then later gives it to me..I feel like a small child. I don't understand these mind games, why does he humiliate me so. Does he really think this is the way to love a person. What I wouldn't give to know what genuine love from a man feels like.
"You're crying over a sweater?' he laughs at me..
I'm not crying over a sweater, I'm crying at the turn my life has taken. I'm crying because I must degrade myself. I have to rely on someone else for financial support. Nothing gets done unless this one man allows it.
I tell him, I wish my life were different, I wish those countless jobs I applied for would call me back and employ me. I wish I had my own money. To stand on my own one day, this is what I want.
He smiles and says I'll be OK.
I feel like if push comes to shove I'll do bad things for money..
I have no self esteem as it is, how much lower can I get, how much lower can I allow myself?
I manage to get a sweater, not the one that I want, its gone.
I actually have to get a sweater from the children's section, everything that says small doesn't fit me in the women's section. Small isn't what it used to be.
 Its brown and has a furry collar, not what I want but something to keep me warm nonetheless. I can't complain, and I'm not flipping the bill either so I hurry up.
Its time to get ready for the show, at home I rush. I have to dress myself and six a year old in less than an hour while my husband does nothing. Halfway done and he decides to pop into the bathroom and try to take charge. I shoo him away.
Finally we're inside and seated at the theater.



The show is lovely..
My daughter's kindergarten's class are singing
"Under the Rooftop." The chipmunk rendition actually lol. This little show upped my spirits momentarily.
My daughter was brilliant, she made the most of her part and danced without instruction, I'm so proud of her..
I was taking pictures the whole night. There was one picture in particular that changed the tone of the night.
I took a pic with her kindergarten teacher.
I can't believe how ugly I look.
Wow..
I'm speechless, I had to crop myself out of the picture before I uploaded it online to my family.
I am skinny, I see it now. I look like a zombie, my face swollen and somehow still slim, my hair thinning, my skin so pale.
I'm ugly and a former shell of myself. Half  of a person.
I can't believe how foolish I was to think that I actually was attractive. What people must think of me on the street I wonder.
I feel so stupid.
I asked my husband what I really look like, he says I could use 10lbs. I don't look sick yet, but I'm getting there fast.
The worst part of it all is how torn I feel now.
I know I look bad but that's not stopping me? Its actually driving me forward.
I figure I'll be alone anyways, there isn't anyone I'm trying to impress, why bother?
I guess even though there's a part of me that's aware now, I just don't care enough to stop.
I will keep going, keep losing weight, there was never a time where I actually felt beautiful anyways.
I feel so awful I'm drinking and smoking..


What's the point.
Tomorrow.. I have no idea whats in store but I know that Mia will be there or Ana and I will embrace it.
I have no idea how to stop and now I really don't care to.
109 is not the end.
Double digits soon, yes soon.



6 comments:

Smallasapanda said...

Your posts are so amazingly written with such detail, yet they are saddening to read.
You could be a writer, you have an amazing knack with words.

I'm sorry you feel as though your life is so awful. I can relate to having no financial ground to stand on and asking people for money.
Keep safe.
x

Avani said...

you know, interestingly enough, my 12 year old sister is 109 pounds...But I'm assuming you're taller than five feet.

Hang in there. Being healthy isn't that bad once you get to the point of loving or at least liking your body. I do wish you would cut down on the b/p...it's not good. I just wrote a post about it.

stay strong, love. And stay healthy.

*Broken* said...

I´m so sorry you feel this way, I feel the same, like I want to have any life but my own...
The pics are lovely
xx

Cora said...

I wish I could hug you and make everything go away and make you feel better. I want to tell you that it's never enough, not for anyone and if you feel this way maybe you should really examine if this is what you want. That's all I want to do now, tell you that, but this is your life, and it's quite similar to the one I've chosen for myself. It's good to remember that some days are better than others. On the topic of looking sick... I don't really know what to say. I don't know how to fix that one. Maybe you could cut down on the exercise a bit so you're not so tired? As contradictory and hypocritical as it is, (like any of us can help it) you're doing great with losing weight. It seems like you've lost so much so quickly. Maybe all you have to do is slow down, just a bit, maybe in one aspect of your life and you'll feel better. I really do want you to feel better, so much. You are so beautiful, please try to remember that.

~Cora

Anonymous said...

i am so worried about you. i hope you can find a glimmer of something special to get you through these days that sound very dark and trying. you do deserve to be happy.
love and light,
erin

Weightoomuch said...

We will all reach where you are someday and I think you are handling as well as anyone could. It's hard not having your own money, and not having control. We control the one thing we can. We will never stop and hopefully in death we will be beautiful.