Fast is not going well. Not well at all. Whether it's just that my metabolism has slowed down or because my calorie intake has been too high despite my best efforts, the scales showed a 2kg increase this morning! I feel so disappointed - I've been so good not consuming, keeping up with the exercise and watching how many calories I put in, and the fat fairy has just taken a big shit on my head. What a freakin bitch.
I capitulated and had a medium skinny cap this morning, feeling sorry for myself is definitely playing with fire. However, I'm working today, so that makes it easier to not eat. I've also got a session with my consellor tonight, so that means no temptation to eat at dinner time.
It totally sux - 2kg?? Come on!
Never mind... I'm going to stick with it. I'm thinking that whilst in Melbourne, I'll just avoid eatring with the others as much as possible - so I can say I got something already... blah blah blah.
So despondant. Oh ana - wherefore art thou?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
In case of grey-out, squeeze ass.
I've been grey-ing out a lot lately. Not only because I have abysmally low blood pressure and heart rate, but because, well, I don't eat much. Yay me! However, many years ago, I watched a doco on Russian cosmonauts who, before going into the cosmonaut program, were all tested in a giant centrifuge to see what their natural resistance to G-forces were like. Apparently, some people have a higher resistance to that kind of thing... As you do.
The American program, by contrast, would put all of their applicants through several months of training, spend oodles of money on them and only then test them in the centrifuge. Some guys passed out as soon as their asses hit the chair, thereby failing the course and being evicted from the house. To me, it seemed like a colossal waste of time and money, not to mention dashing the hopes of any potential astronauts who had a low G-force tolerance.
My point of all this rambling, is that during the training of the American astronauts, they went into quite a lot of detail about how to resist said G-forces. When in the centrifuge, blood is forced to the lower extremities of the body and away from core internal organs and the brain, hence the loss of consciousness. How they resist this is by vigorously squeezing all the muscles in the lower body whilst under the G-force, so quads, gluts, anything else, which then pushes blood back to the centre of the body and brain. I have since discovered that this technique can also be applied to the oft-encountered grey-out.
If you, like me, often grey-out when you stand suddenly after being seated for a while, or when you get up in the morning, stop what you're doing and squeeze all the muscles in your legs and ass. Works a treat.
So far only black coffee today, but we'll see how the rest of the days go.
Bless to all
S xx
The American program, by contrast, would put all of their applicants through several months of training, spend oodles of money on them and only then test them in the centrifuge. Some guys passed out as soon as their asses hit the chair, thereby failing the course and being evicted from the house. To me, it seemed like a colossal waste of time and money, not to mention dashing the hopes of any potential astronauts who had a low G-force tolerance.
My point of all this rambling, is that during the training of the American astronauts, they went into quite a lot of detail about how to resist said G-forces. When in the centrifuge, blood is forced to the lower extremities of the body and away from core internal organs and the brain, hence the loss of consciousness. How they resist this is by vigorously squeezing all the muscles in the lower body whilst under the G-force, so quads, gluts, anything else, which then pushes blood back to the centre of the body and brain. I have since discovered that this technique can also be applied to the oft-encountered grey-out.
If you, like me, often grey-out when you stand suddenly after being seated for a while, or when you get up in the morning, stop what you're doing and squeeze all the muscles in your legs and ass. Works a treat.
So far only black coffee today, but we'll see how the rest of the days go.
Bless to all
S xx
Sunday, August 29, 2010
*Nil by mouth.
Day one of four day fast! After the weekend I've had, it couldn't come soon enough! Two day trial of 600, 400 cals = epic fail. I was on track for a comfortable 600 cal day on Friday when husband rang me from work asking if I wanted to meet him to see a movie. We decided to go and see the new Angelina Jolie film, (hello, thinspo!) after which, dear husband decided that he wanted to take me out - dinner, drinks, the whole nine yards. It's very hard to ignore a husband sitting opposite you at a romantic candlelit table, beaming with cleverness at his surprise-date-tactics, asking you what you want to eat. Blergh. Nothing is what I want to eat. I ended up choosing the vegetarian option - trying to reduce the damage as much as possible, but 600cal target was clearly blown.
Yesterday was also another day filled with face-stuffing activities. We own a house by the beach which we currently have rented out. We had to go down and do some repairs, spending most of the day there. Of course that meant husband wanted me to get lunch. He asked for a Subway sandwich "Get me something that you will have a bite of..." So I got him the foot-long roast chicken. Sinner. He ate half of it, happily thrusting the other half into my face. I'm pleased to say I didn't eat all of it, but once again, 400 target for the day was clearly blown. Getting home, I chowed down of a packed of laxis - two days of gorging is bound to have a negative impact. The upside was I worked like a dog all day. My body is clearly aware of the hard work it has done, I've re-discovered muscles I had forgotten even existed, so hopefully the damage which has been done is balanced a tiny bit by the efforts I put in.
The next four days now hold even more importance than they did before. After two days of actually eating, I woke up this morning with my traitor body feeling hungry. I'll have to stay in control and really keep on top of any intake today in particular, just until I can get past the hunger. Then it will be easy. Blessedly easy. I hope.
Dr Ana has placed an order on me - Nil by mouth.
Bless to all,
S xx
Yesterday was also another day filled with face-stuffing activities. We own a house by the beach which we currently have rented out. We had to go down and do some repairs, spending most of the day there. Of course that meant husband wanted me to get lunch. He asked for a Subway sandwich "Get me something that you will have a bite of..." So I got him the foot-long roast chicken. Sinner. He ate half of it, happily thrusting the other half into my face. I'm pleased to say I didn't eat all of it, but once again, 400 target for the day was clearly blown. Getting home, I chowed down of a packed of laxis - two days of gorging is bound to have a negative impact. The upside was I worked like a dog all day. My body is clearly aware of the hard work it has done, I've re-discovered muscles I had forgotten even existed, so hopefully the damage which has been done is balanced a tiny bit by the efforts I put in.
The next four days now hold even more importance than they did before. After two days of actually eating, I woke up this morning with my traitor body feeling hungry. I'll have to stay in control and really keep on top of any intake today in particular, just until I can get past the hunger. Then it will be easy. Blessedly easy. I hope.
Dr Ana has placed an order on me - Nil by mouth.
Bless to all,
S xx
Friday, August 27, 2010
Milestones
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! A small milestone has been reached. Today my scales showed me a number I haven't seen for a very long time. It was heartening to welcome back that number, just like walking into the arms of an old dear friend who has been absent for many years. *contented sigh* Happiness abounds, but there is always danger lurking in the shadow of happiness. Now is not the time to be resting on laurels, in fact it is at these times that our complacency can lead us to derailment. Idle hands are the devils tools, so to speak.
So, how do I reward myself for meeting my old friend the milestone without slipping backwards? Easy. Today is Friday. Friday is beauty day. Time to indulge my greatest vice, that of Vanity. Vanity and ana go hand in hand. The more I look at myself, my skin, my hair, eyes, nails, body, the more motivation I find to keep strong. To say no to temptation and feel the rush of knowing I have control. Complete, blessed control.
Last night, I picked up KFC for husband on the way home from work. I nearly stuck my hand into the box for a chip... It was so tempting. The salty, crunchy, greasy satisfaction of a hot chip had me salivating... Thankfully, the skinny angel on my shoulder pulled me by the ear and whispered to me: "Think, Sass, think how good you will feel getting home knowing you had the willpower to not do that! To maintain control! Think about the number tomorrow..." It worked. My hands stayed firmly on the wheel, mind bursting with the high of being able to say no. Bless that skinny angel!
I love my new number. But it is not the number I'm aiming for, so back to the grindstone I go. The next milestone will be reached, hopefully, whilst husband is away. To reach it, I have decided on a course of varying calorie intake, 600 one day, 400 the next, just to keep my metabolism ticking over. Punctuated of course with regular intervals of exercise. I'll trial it for a couple of days, if it's a failure, then I have a wonderful four day liquids-only fast to look forward to before the weekend away in Melbourne. For that, I'll have to come up with a cunning plan....
Wish me control :)
Bless to all xx
So, how do I reward myself for meeting my old friend the milestone without slipping backwards? Easy. Today is Friday. Friday is beauty day. Time to indulge my greatest vice, that of Vanity. Vanity and ana go hand in hand. The more I look at myself, my skin, my hair, eyes, nails, body, the more motivation I find to keep strong. To say no to temptation and feel the rush of knowing I have control. Complete, blessed control.
Last night, I picked up KFC for husband on the way home from work. I nearly stuck my hand into the box for a chip... It was so tempting. The salty, crunchy, greasy satisfaction of a hot chip had me salivating... Thankfully, the skinny angel on my shoulder pulled me by the ear and whispered to me: "Think, Sass, think how good you will feel getting home knowing you had the willpower to not do that! To maintain control! Think about the number tomorrow..." It worked. My hands stayed firmly on the wheel, mind bursting with the high of being able to say no. Bless that skinny angel!
I love my new number. But it is not the number I'm aiming for, so back to the grindstone I go. The next milestone will be reached, hopefully, whilst husband is away. To reach it, I have decided on a course of varying calorie intake, 600 one day, 400 the next, just to keep my metabolism ticking over. Punctuated of course with regular intervals of exercise. I'll trial it for a couple of days, if it's a failure, then I have a wonderful four day liquids-only fast to look forward to before the weekend away in Melbourne. For that, I'll have to come up with a cunning plan....
Wish me control :)
Bless to all xx
Thursday, August 26, 2010
War-time.
So... I've got a great week coming up. Husband will be heading overseas on a work trip, hopefully he won't have time for any more *side trips*, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I feel fairly confident that he won't be able to get much cheating done in the time allocated - he's got meetings booked back to back so far.
The best part about him going away is that I will be alone! No more watching! No more cooking dinner each night! Freedom - for four whole days! Such bliss! I'm feeling so excited and hopeful about that time, I can't wait to see how I go with the losses! I'll need it because in exactly one week's time, I'll be in the wars. By that I mean I have a girlie weekend planned in Melbourne with some dear friends. For those of you who are not familiar with the city, Melbourne is known in Australia as the culinary capital. How I'm going to avouid the stares and questions, not to mention actually eating over that weekend will be a true test of strength, planning and cunning. Unfortunately, I won't be taking my MacBook with me, which means no internet access... *eeek* Reading everybody's blogs and posts is what has been keeping me going over the last few weeks. Still, I suppose that is what war is. A blind dash into madness, danger and the unknown sans inspiration and comfort. God give me strength.
On the upside, yesterday was only marred by a slight slip up at dinner time. I'd baked a fish pie for Husband, managed to get out of actually eating any of it at the table, but then, as I was putting it away, my devil body picked up a fork and took three swipes of afore-mentioned pie and tratiorously swallowed them down. Was also busted by Husband, which, in hindsight was probably a good thing. If he sees me eating something (even if it was the only solid food I'd had all day) then I slip under his radar that little bit more.
I'm working today which is another lift. Work = no time to eat. :) Happy face. Husband and I also decided to take separate cars which means I can get him something disgusting for dinner, (like KFC) which he knows I Don't eat. To be precise, I would rather be held down and poked in the eye with a hot fork than let that vile stuff defile my body. Tomorrow will be the teller of today's and yesterday's activities. Couldn't get on the scales today, but tomorrow, my precoius, tomorrow...
Love and hunger to all,
S xx
The best part about him going away is that I will be alone! No more watching! No more cooking dinner each night! Freedom - for four whole days! Such bliss! I'm feeling so excited and hopeful about that time, I can't wait to see how I go with the losses! I'll need it because in exactly one week's time, I'll be in the wars. By that I mean I have a girlie weekend planned in Melbourne with some dear friends. For those of you who are not familiar with the city, Melbourne is known in Australia as the culinary capital. How I'm going to avouid the stares and questions, not to mention actually eating over that weekend will be a true test of strength, planning and cunning. Unfortunately, I won't be taking my MacBook with me, which means no internet access... *eeek* Reading everybody's blogs and posts is what has been keeping me going over the last few weeks. Still, I suppose that is what war is. A blind dash into madness, danger and the unknown sans inspiration and comfort. God give me strength.
On the upside, yesterday was only marred by a slight slip up at dinner time. I'd baked a fish pie for Husband, managed to get out of actually eating any of it at the table, but then, as I was putting it away, my devil body picked up a fork and took three swipes of afore-mentioned pie and tratiorously swallowed them down. Was also busted by Husband, which, in hindsight was probably a good thing. If he sees me eating something (even if it was the only solid food I'd had all day) then I slip under his radar that little bit more.
I'm working today which is another lift. Work = no time to eat. :) Happy face. Husband and I also decided to take separate cars which means I can get him something disgusting for dinner, (like KFC) which he knows I Don't eat. To be precise, I would rather be held down and poked in the eye with a hot fork than let that vile stuff defile my body. Tomorrow will be the teller of today's and yesterday's activities. Couldn't get on the scales today, but tomorrow, my precoius, tomorrow...
Love and hunger to all,
S xx
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
A little clarification
I guess I should clarify a few things. Firstly, my husband isn't the complete demon I make him out to be. Yes, he is introverted and distant. Yes, he is denying me a normal, happy sexual relationship. Yes, he is extremely arrogant and has so much emotional baggage, he has to pay an excess just to get out of bed each day. But he is not a bad man. He does love me. He loves me so much he married me. He cares very deeply for my welfare and launches himself into 'Knight-In-Shining-Armour-I-Will-Save-You-My-Lady!' mode at the slightest threat or danger he perceives. He has never beaten me or spoken harshly to me without provocation. He's just... special.
He has demons. Notably they are all encapsulated in the form of his ex, whom I will refer to as J. They dated on and off for six years, with J never confirming to any of her loved ones that they were actually dating. She has two kids. She never told them that he was her boyfriend. Not once. Talk about head-fuck.
To that extent, my poor husband was always excluded, on the outside forever looking in. She denied him love, dignity and for the most part, sex. When they did have sex, as I've now seen, it was no-holds barred, great sex. Something which I have never experienced with him. But eventually, he left her. Knowing that she was bad for him, that he needed to get away from her to get on with his life, instead of living in an emotional limbo he finally broke free and moved on. Problem is, he's never got any professional help. He's still hung up on her. He now treats me the way that she treated him, and no matter how many times I tell him that, he can't change it. He has been to see a counsellor, once. It did some good, but there is so much more which needs to be leached from his system, I honestly don't know how he ever managed to fall in love with me in the first place.
That being said, I also have my own demons. Notably in the form of numerous ex boyfriends, some of which, after ending the relationship, I sought help to regain myself. A difficult process. The most recent bad relationship was with the man who ultimately introduced me to ana. 'G', was abusive, violent and childish. He would throw temper tantrums like a kid in the candy aisle then lash out. Upon seeing me bleeding on the ground, he would run away and cry, saying that I had made him feel bad. He constantly rejected me. Told me off for 'embarrassing' him in public. Told me I wasn't beautiful enough, that all the other girls he worked with were stunning and that I shouldn't bother trying to be in a competition with them. He was a model, sportsman and loser.
Our sex life, just like that of my husband and J, was amazing. There was every kind of satisfaction and sexual fantasy fulfilled that you could imagine. None of which I have shared with my husband. So I guess we're both guilty of being beige in the bedroom. Now all we have to do is work out how to slay our demons and we could have a great marriage. It's the working out bit I'm struggling with.
Recently, I found a man's wedding ring. It was the wedding ring that G had bought, in anticipation of marrying me. The sight of it brought back such terrible memories, such bile and vitriol, I nearly threw up. I threw the little box into the rubbish, where I hoped it would stay, destined to end up in a landfill somewhere, or found by a homeless person and then sold for food or clothes. But it didn't. My husband found the box and without telling me, decided to keep it. He says that he wanted to sell it and then buy me something nice. He had hidden it in his underwear drawer. I was putting away his laundry when I found it. It was like reliving a moment when you discover a voodoo curse has been placed on you and you find the evil doll, filled with poison in your home. My love bubble for my husband has burst. In that moment, I knew that he had no idea of who I really am, or how my past experiences have shaped me. He's too busy always looking for the 'something better is yet to come future' to recognise that the past is where our foundations are laid.
I don't love him any more. I know I rant and say I hate him, but that's not entirely true. I am angry with him. He has betrayed me. His actions now meant that I can't even think about my wedding day without bitterness and regret, when it was supposed to be a good memory. I can't wait to go and see the counsellor again. Husband will be away for work, which means I can go by myself and talk about the elephant in the room. Prepare myself fo what's to come. Will I continue on in this marriage? Who knows. Part of me hopes so. I truly believed when I married him that it would be for the rest of my natural life. Divorce is not a path I wish to tread. But I cannot trust him. Not now and probably never again. The shining, silvered love I carried for him so carefully in my heart is naught but a tarnished and broken memory now. Sad, really.
However, this revelation does have a silver lining. I am now free of caring about his opinions and needs. Now I no longer love him, I can truly be myself. It is so liberating. I got on the scales this morning, despite sausage-gate and the dinner last night (clear broth with a few veg) I'm down 800g. Not exactly what I had hoped for, but a good result none-the-less.
Today will be another day on the cross trainer. I'm also going to go out and get myself and exercise dvd - just so I can get some variety in my exercise routine. Maybe that will aid in the shrinkage. I am hopeful. Hopeful and excited. This new day, this new beginning is clearing the way for my journey to weight loss like nothing else. Ana is proud of me and so am I.
Love and peace,
S xx
He has demons. Notably they are all encapsulated in the form of his ex, whom I will refer to as J. They dated on and off for six years, with J never confirming to any of her loved ones that they were actually dating. She has two kids. She never told them that he was her boyfriend. Not once. Talk about head-fuck.
To that extent, my poor husband was always excluded, on the outside forever looking in. She denied him love, dignity and for the most part, sex. When they did have sex, as I've now seen, it was no-holds barred, great sex. Something which I have never experienced with him. But eventually, he left her. Knowing that she was bad for him, that he needed to get away from her to get on with his life, instead of living in an emotional limbo he finally broke free and moved on. Problem is, he's never got any professional help. He's still hung up on her. He now treats me the way that she treated him, and no matter how many times I tell him that, he can't change it. He has been to see a counsellor, once. It did some good, but there is so much more which needs to be leached from his system, I honestly don't know how he ever managed to fall in love with me in the first place.
That being said, I also have my own demons. Notably in the form of numerous ex boyfriends, some of which, after ending the relationship, I sought help to regain myself. A difficult process. The most recent bad relationship was with the man who ultimately introduced me to ana. 'G', was abusive, violent and childish. He would throw temper tantrums like a kid in the candy aisle then lash out. Upon seeing me bleeding on the ground, he would run away and cry, saying that I had made him feel bad. He constantly rejected me. Told me off for 'embarrassing' him in public. Told me I wasn't beautiful enough, that all the other girls he worked with were stunning and that I shouldn't bother trying to be in a competition with them. He was a model, sportsman and loser.
Our sex life, just like that of my husband and J, was amazing. There was every kind of satisfaction and sexual fantasy fulfilled that you could imagine. None of which I have shared with my husband. So I guess we're both guilty of being beige in the bedroom. Now all we have to do is work out how to slay our demons and we could have a great marriage. It's the working out bit I'm struggling with.
Recently, I found a man's wedding ring. It was the wedding ring that G had bought, in anticipation of marrying me. The sight of it brought back such terrible memories, such bile and vitriol, I nearly threw up. I threw the little box into the rubbish, where I hoped it would stay, destined to end up in a landfill somewhere, or found by a homeless person and then sold for food or clothes. But it didn't. My husband found the box and without telling me, decided to keep it. He says that he wanted to sell it and then buy me something nice. He had hidden it in his underwear drawer. I was putting away his laundry when I found it. It was like reliving a moment when you discover a voodoo curse has been placed on you and you find the evil doll, filled with poison in your home. My love bubble for my husband has burst. In that moment, I knew that he had no idea of who I really am, or how my past experiences have shaped me. He's too busy always looking for the 'something better is yet to come future' to recognise that the past is where our foundations are laid.
I don't love him any more. I know I rant and say I hate him, but that's not entirely true. I am angry with him. He has betrayed me. His actions now meant that I can't even think about my wedding day without bitterness and regret, when it was supposed to be a good memory. I can't wait to go and see the counsellor again. Husband will be away for work, which means I can go by myself and talk about the elephant in the room. Prepare myself fo what's to come. Will I continue on in this marriage? Who knows. Part of me hopes so. I truly believed when I married him that it would be for the rest of my natural life. Divorce is not a path I wish to tread. But I cannot trust him. Not now and probably never again. The shining, silvered love I carried for him so carefully in my heart is naught but a tarnished and broken memory now. Sad, really.
However, this revelation does have a silver lining. I am now free of caring about his opinions and needs. Now I no longer love him, I can truly be myself. It is so liberating. I got on the scales this morning, despite sausage-gate and the dinner last night (clear broth with a few veg) I'm down 800g. Not exactly what I had hoped for, but a good result none-the-less.
Today will be another day on the cross trainer. I'm also going to go out and get myself and exercise dvd - just so I can get some variety in my exercise routine. Maybe that will aid in the shrinkage. I am hopeful. Hopeful and excited. This new day, this new beginning is clearing the way for my journey to weight loss like nothing else. Ana is proud of me and so am I.
Love and peace,
S xx
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Sausage-gate.
So, yesterday would have been a screamer if it wasn't for my stupid husband. He arrived home much earlier than I had anticipated and then declared he wanted to have dinner with me. *sigh* I decided to make him something which he knows I don't like (but he loves) to get out of having any. I got everything done with 15 minutes to spare before I had to leave for my meeting, when, with the precision of an attack Tomohawk, he leaned over me and shoved a piece of sausage into my mouth! He then proceeded to watch me with keen interest while I choked it down. A piece of freakin SAUSAGE! I mean, does anyone know how much FAT there is in those things! At least a metric tonne per piece, I'm sure. I managed to put on enough of a song and dance about how much I don't like sausages to prevent him from doing it again, but I couldn't spit it out, so down it went, coating my innards with greasy porkiness all the way. If only it was legal to kill some people, the world would be a much better place.
I'm aiming to make today another day of liquids only. I'm off to get a big supply of cranberry juice and green tea, although I did have a small cappucino first thing this morning, just to get me going (feeling v tired after yesterday's exercise efforts). Not sure how I'll go talking my way out of eating tonight, if I have to I'll throw together a small salad, just to keep the questions at bay.
Ok, enough for now, but tomorrow is a new day :)
Thinking thin,
S xx
Monday, August 23, 2010
Day one...
So. Here we are. All of us together. I should let you know that I'm starting this blog in the hope that I can stay on track. Stay in control. Keep the cravings and the questions at bay. Most of all, this is a little piece of escapism, designed to get me and by proxy, you, to where we want to be. So where is that?
For some that is a question which can never be answered, but for me, it's easy. I want to be in the beautiful land of Skinny.
So here goes.
I guess everything has a trigger. A beginning. I mean, I didn't just wake up one morning and decide to "pick" Ana as my friend. I think she chose me. So, when did I start? When was my beginning? To be honest, it was several years ago and it was (of course) because of a boy. I didn't even know what was happening or even what I was doing. All I knew was that I liked it. I liked having control. I liked being able to see my heart beating through my skin. It was a rush. An unbelievable high. Watching plebs and fat pigs stuff their greasy faces and laughing at them the whole time.
The boy in question was an asshole. He wasn't really worth it, but the pain and desperation he instilled in me was fuel for my fire. He got me to where I wanted to be, even if the end result was not what I desired. After much heartache and head-fucking, I left. Left the state and started a new life in a new city. It was my downfall. Without him, the flab started creeping back on. And on, and on and on. Before I knew it, I was the fat pig stuffing my greasy face. 35kg heavier. Disgusting. Irregardless of that, I met someone. Someone who, at the time, wasn't like my ex. He kept his dick in his pants, treated me with dignity and respectand he found me sexy. "The most sensual woman he'd ever known". was his line.
So we began dating. It was great, the sex was great. He was intelligent, fun and creative. We would sing together at his piano and laugh and drink late into the night. But after a while, I felt he was too needy, so I left him for about 2 months. I headed to another city to spend some time whoring myself around before heading back. I invited him to my 30th birthday where he stuck close by my side all night. I capitulated and we started dating again.
To cut a long story short, we're now married. "Aaaawwww, how sweet!" I can hear some people think... But....
Three weeks before we got married, he had to go overseas for a work trip. He was supposed to be gone for two weeks and was going to be in LA, Washington and Denver for various conferences and meetings. Except he didn't just go to LA, Washington and Denver. He also decided to take a little holiday to Miami Beach on the side to "catch up with" an old flame he'd met years ago on the net.
When he got back, he told me he's made this side trip, that it was a whim and that he'd spent the entire weekend talking to this woman about me and our relationship and that he was able to come back home to me knowing that he could marry me with all of his heart, there were no doubts in his mind that I was The One. Ok, great, I thought, not the best thing in the world, but at least he was honest.
So, we got married, went on honeymoon and it sucked. We had sex ONCE. And to describe it as vanilla would be an insult to all those-vanilla lovers out there. I've never felt like I've been making love all by myself until then. Or like I was some sort of masturbatory device. He just laid there with his eyes closed, not looking at me, interacting with me or even seeming to enjoy himself. And it's been like that ever since. So I decided to ask the question.
His answer was a shock. He had fucked her. And not just fucked her, but done all the things with her that he never does with me. Three weeks before we were due to be married. He had lied to me, planned a holiday with this woman and then spent four days with her. Three weeks before we were supposed to be getting married. More than anything, I was mad at him for not giving me the option to decide whether or not I still wanted to go ahead and get married, or do as my natural instinct directed me to do and cut my losses and run. I mean, once a cheater, always a cheater, right? But I never got that option. And now I'm trapped trapped in a marriage where my husband no longer finds me attractive because a) he fucked someone else and b) he's still all fucked up over this other slut whom he dated on and off for six years before meeting me and she treated him like total shit, so she was forever the un-obtainable love. So now we're going to marriage counselling. Ha! What a joke, not even married for one year and we're already in therapy. I fucking hate my husband.
Today, I found the pornos he made with his slag ex. Great. More evidence my husband is a good lover but that he refuses to share that part of himself with me. What the fuck is wrong with me??
Stupid question, really. I've known the answer to that question for months now... I Am FAT.
So here I am, alone, devastated and fat. I have no family in this city and even if I did, I can't tell them what has happened. Or my friends. They all love him. Think he's wonderful.
Luckily, I have one friend I can tell... Ana. Thank God she's come back to save me. How could I have forgotten about her at all? My fire has been lit. My path is clear. Already, Ana has taken away some of the burden of my horrible marriage and given me back my power. She's taken 14kgs off my frame and with her help, another 16 will soon go too. I love her. Together we have successfully fasted, eating only the most token amounts when required and come up with the most fabulous excuses.
Today I'm starting another fast.. Mondays are great - I have the day off so I can spend hours on my cross trainer, with only water and juices to keep my paces up. He comes home from work about 5, I usually have dinner, but then I go to a late sales meeting, so I can leave the house without having to sit down at the dinner table with him. Otherwise he watches me like a goddamn hawk. I mean, seriously, what fucking right does he have over my body? None! I've found a like to a salt cleansing which I'm going to try on Wednesday. Failing that, I'll just stick to the cabbage and juice I've been forced to take in.
Tomorrow is a new day. I can't wait to see what the scales will tell me. Me and my best friend Ana.
Bless to all xx
S
For some that is a question which can never be answered, but for me, it's easy. I want to be in the beautiful land of Skinny.
So here goes.
I guess everything has a trigger. A beginning. I mean, I didn't just wake up one morning and decide to "pick" Ana as my friend. I think she chose me. So, when did I start? When was my beginning? To be honest, it was several years ago and it was (of course) because of a boy. I didn't even know what was happening or even what I was doing. All I knew was that I liked it. I liked having control. I liked being able to see my heart beating through my skin. It was a rush. An unbelievable high. Watching plebs and fat pigs stuff their greasy faces and laughing at them the whole time.
The boy in question was an asshole. He wasn't really worth it, but the pain and desperation he instilled in me was fuel for my fire. He got me to where I wanted to be, even if the end result was not what I desired. After much heartache and head-fucking, I left. Left the state and started a new life in a new city. It was my downfall. Without him, the flab started creeping back on. And on, and on and on. Before I knew it, I was the fat pig stuffing my greasy face. 35kg heavier. Disgusting. Irregardless of that, I met someone. Someone who, at the time, wasn't like my ex. He kept his dick in his pants, treated me with dignity and respectand he found me sexy. "The most sensual woman he'd ever known". was his line.
So we began dating. It was great, the sex was great. He was intelligent, fun and creative. We would sing together at his piano and laugh and drink late into the night. But after a while, I felt he was too needy, so I left him for about 2 months. I headed to another city to spend some time whoring myself around before heading back. I invited him to my 30th birthday where he stuck close by my side all night. I capitulated and we started dating again.
To cut a long story short, we're now married. "Aaaawwww, how sweet!" I can hear some people think... But....
Three weeks before we got married, he had to go overseas for a work trip. He was supposed to be gone for two weeks and was going to be in LA, Washington and Denver for various conferences and meetings. Except he didn't just go to LA, Washington and Denver. He also decided to take a little holiday to Miami Beach on the side to "catch up with" an old flame he'd met years ago on the net.
When he got back, he told me he's made this side trip, that it was a whim and that he'd spent the entire weekend talking to this woman about me and our relationship and that he was able to come back home to me knowing that he could marry me with all of his heart, there were no doubts in his mind that I was The One. Ok, great, I thought, not the best thing in the world, but at least he was honest.
So, we got married, went on honeymoon and it sucked. We had sex ONCE. And to describe it as vanilla would be an insult to all those-vanilla lovers out there. I've never felt like I've been making love all by myself until then. Or like I was some sort of masturbatory device. He just laid there with his eyes closed, not looking at me, interacting with me or even seeming to enjoy himself. And it's been like that ever since. So I decided to ask the question.
His answer was a shock. He had fucked her. And not just fucked her, but done all the things with her that he never does with me. Three weeks before we were due to be married. He had lied to me, planned a holiday with this woman and then spent four days with her. Three weeks before we were supposed to be getting married. More than anything, I was mad at him for not giving me the option to decide whether or not I still wanted to go ahead and get married, or do as my natural instinct directed me to do and cut my losses and run. I mean, once a cheater, always a cheater, right? But I never got that option. And now I'm trapped trapped in a marriage where my husband no longer finds me attractive because a) he fucked someone else and b) he's still all fucked up over this other slut whom he dated on and off for six years before meeting me and she treated him like total shit, so she was forever the un-obtainable love. So now we're going to marriage counselling. Ha! What a joke, not even married for one year and we're already in therapy. I fucking hate my husband.
Today, I found the pornos he made with his slag ex. Great. More evidence my husband is a good lover but that he refuses to share that part of himself with me. What the fuck is wrong with me??
Stupid question, really. I've known the answer to that question for months now... I Am FAT.
So here I am, alone, devastated and fat. I have no family in this city and even if I did, I can't tell them what has happened. Or my friends. They all love him. Think he's wonderful.
Luckily, I have one friend I can tell... Ana. Thank God she's come back to save me. How could I have forgotten about her at all? My fire has been lit. My path is clear. Already, Ana has taken away some of the burden of my horrible marriage and given me back my power. She's taken 14kgs off my frame and with her help, another 16 will soon go too. I love her. Together we have successfully fasted, eating only the most token amounts when required and come up with the most fabulous excuses.
Today I'm starting another fast.. Mondays are great - I have the day off so I can spend hours on my cross trainer, with only water and juices to keep my paces up. He comes home from work about 5, I usually have dinner, but then I go to a late sales meeting, so I can leave the house without having to sit down at the dinner table with him. Otherwise he watches me like a goddamn hawk. I mean, seriously, what fucking right does he have over my body? None! I've found a like to a salt cleansing which I'm going to try on Wednesday. Failing that, I'll just stick to the cabbage and juice I've been forced to take in.
Tomorrow is a new day. I can't wait to see what the scales will tell me. Me and my best friend Ana.
Bless to all xx
S
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