Foggy Sleepy "Good Day"

Last night I was so frustrated with myself for bingeing all weekend. Such a waste. So I decided to make it through today and try for two more. I have done one day a few times since beginning counseling, but I guess I'm trying for 3. Healthy breakfast, no lunch. I drove over an hour for a plastic surgery consultation today. Bad traffic and no time to eat. Really, I know when I "should" eat if its an all healthy day. I was excited to see the plastic surgeon, though. We discussed lip augmentation, rhinoplasty, and cheek fat removal. This subject has such a negative connotation, but I don't think it makes me less of a person to engage in improving aesthetic features. My philosophy is "better to be fake on the outside than on the inside", so I try to follow that every day by saying what I think, being friendly to strangers (because I honestly want it reciprocated), and acting out from what I truly feel inside. There are a lot of fake people, but most of them have been conditioned and raised to fit in, be politically correct, and keep an appropriate filter on their thoughts, feelings, and opinions. Right now, that just doesn't work for me. So I guess that I'm so used to people not liking the real me (proven by my lack of girlfriends), that I always want to look better and be prettier. Probably to fit in or be admired. Okay, that reason for cosmetic surgery is questionable. But here's a good point. Most kids get braces for a few years to make their teeth forever straight. They cost over a grand and inflict significant pain. Then there are tatoos. My mom despises plastic surgery. But for some reason she found it necessary to poison her skin with an ugly, permanent angel (christmas ornament-looking!) tatoo for her 50th birthday. These are obviously fake, where as cosmetic surgery is optimally natural looking. How is defacing your precious skin with GREEN ink an attractive, socially acceptable practice?
Enough about that. I was starving when I got back to the apt, but had plans to work out with this dude, K, that I met at the gym. So.... with the gym to look forward to, I ate an (all organic) whole wheat tortilla with chicken dog and cheese, carrots, and a kiwi. Ever notice how the hungrier you are, the better that nutritional food tastes? Well people kept calling and I sure could have watched some enticing tv, bought some goodies, and closed everything out. But I have to make this new way of life a habit. Its not fun, but at the end of the day, it really is worth it. It seems everytime I go to the gym, something nice happens. Usually I meet a new guy. Okay I know thats not the purpose of workouts or in the equation of recovery. But eye candy is a much safer indulgence daily than chocolate candy! If I'm not sore tomorrow, though, it was a waste. Too much talking and deficient muscle burn. I love to "feel the burn", and if you think about it, the moments of slight pain in a workout are almost like the feeling of purging. Its not fun in the moment, but its so intense, that it can temporarily releive the hurtful thoughts dancing through our minds. Like bulimia, working out is addicting. Anyone who has done hard cardio for 3o or more minutes and felt the subsequent adrenaline high would agree. It may be way less addicting and I heard you had to do actions 21 times to make them a habit. Well, hell, I have at least 13 more to go, so those juicy boys better keep their butts up at the gym as my temporary incentive! So....... a cutie talked to me on the way out of the gym and I went home to a lovely salad. Green bell peppers (of course organic) are so yummy and salmon has a lot of fat, but is okay in moderation and a nice topping for salad. Frozen blueberries, well, one day they will fully replace ice cream. But they did the trick for tonight. I am so tired and have an early skin appointment tomorrow. Better study though because the day really is a waste if nothing significant is learned.

Introduction

I'm not really sure how to start this. Reading other women's blogs is giving me insight that I am not alone, not spiraling towards death, and not really moving forward. I have been bulimic for four years now. Most girls I meet who claim to have had an ED, seem to have just "grown out of it" or some simple solution. Here in Texas maybe people just don't talk about it. I thought I would grow out of it as well. And for any readers who think, "when I reach my goal weight, I won't need to purge anymore", let me tell you it can easily get worse and fill numerous other purposes in your life besides the one (losing weight) it started out as. At the end of hs, I weighed 140 and somehow, during the past 2 years, I've reached the approximate target goal and settled around 110. So why does 100 sound so desirably elusive? I would have killed back then to weigh 115. It was the perfect goal for a long time during the beginning of this sickness. But it really doesn't matter now. Sure things are better on the surface. As in clothes, my figure, the way guys treat me, etc. However, is our purpose in life REALLY to be concerned 100 percent with the surface? I can see now that whatever I gained from this disorder is nothing compared with everything I've lost. But no matter what is lost, I think the main thing is for all of us to not lose hope. Some days I come close to giving up and shutting down. Other days I'm numb to the reality of life and my situation. Though the best days must be those when I can retain the concept of hope. I have been to a few therapists, but only a few weeks ago, met with an actual specialist. Conveniently, my insurance is fighting not to allow an out-of-plan referral. But meeting with this doctor a few times has made the hope more prevalent and fuelled a curiosity of what I could have (not materialistically) when the bulimia is given up. So at the moment, my abstinence rate is only 2 days. So I'm going to try for three this week in a row. There has got to be something out there more fulfilling.