Day 7 of the great 34-day fast. Morning.
NUMBERS. My whole fucked-up-ED-world revolves around NUMBERS.
Thank God I'm only up half-a-pound today, after last night's abhorrent scene. I never felt the 4 laxatives kick in, so I can still feel the meal sitting at the pit of my bulging stomach. Ugh - nothing feels more beautiful than an empty CONCAVE stomach. I HATE this full feeling.
Last night, I ate more calories in ONE sitting than I had taken in ALL WEEK. WTF???!!! Without that meal, I could have averaged 180 calories per day. Instead, I averaged 400. What the hell was I thinking?
Well, I'm done crying over the spilled milk. This little episode is going to stick to my memory and be my own source of thinspiration every time I am tempted to eat from now on. Not even my dear sushi is worth THIS much worry and grief.
Or the brutal punishment I'm about to put myself through. Today, against my own rules, I'm going to take in only water. Not ONE SINGLE CALORIE is permitted today. And I have 11 hours that the gym will be open (I may have to go twice) in which I must burn off at least 1500 calories. More would be great, but with no calories for energy, it's going to be a slow process.
But I will persevere! It's worth it to get off not only the half-pound I gained today, but another full pound for good measure.
I am now back to the exact weight I was when I got hired for my ship last year. There's no way I'm going to fuck that up before my next ship. The lower I can be at the start of rehearsals (when they start watching me eat), the lower I'll be when they first weigh me in once I'm onboard. And that's all I'll have to maintain.
OFF TO THE GYM WITH MY WRETCHED FAT SELF!!!