Two Hundred Twenty Six

Aww shit. What a weekend. Yesterday was not good. I think my blog post made that obvious. I can’t really pin point one thing that has been bothering me lately. It’s definitely just a combination of stuff. I’m frustrated that I’m still hostessing at Mama’s because I need to start serving dinners and making more money if it’s going to be my only job. I am, like always, extremely discontent with living in Bakersfield. I am nervous about what my future holds and whether or not Sacramento is going to work out, or if I should even go. My weight loss has been at a stand still since my birthday almost 2 months ago. I miss my best friend like fucking crazy. I miss a lot of people like crazy. There just doesn’t seem to be any progress being made in any part of my life. It’s an extremely destructive environment for me, I am realizing. It fucks me up for some reason. I need movement. I need progress. My weight loss being at such a long plateau is the biggest offender. My diet being totally fucked lately is scaring me and making me defensive and rash. Every day I say, “Omfg. If I get fat again I’ll fucking die.” And then that night I’ll eat a York Peppermint Patty. Or I’ll go to Taco Bell instead of cooking something. It’s that horrible, fucked up, evil, fat person cycle. That cycle of being sad about what you’re eating, and eating shitty things to help with being sad. It’s an extreme issue. I am almost speechless about how upset I get when I imagine gaining all this weight back. I don’t know how to pull myself out of this, exactly. I did it once, I suppose. I can do it again, right? Yeah. Imma leave now. I need to get out. Hasta.

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