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.
109 is not the end.
Double digits soon, yes soon.