I AM A FUCKING MESS!!!
Now that that is out of the way: ok. I am home from work and the weekend is here and mine. I'm drinking a beer. SO MANY PEOPLE are commenting on my weight loss, including, most recently today..my boss. He is a doctor and asked if I am losing weight in a "healthy way". I blamed it on the abortion, stress, being poor. Everything but the cigarettes and weed and desire to be thin that I've battled for over a decade.
Truth: I am the thinnest I've been since early high school. Not gonna lie, I look great. I am thin. I have what we want. I didn't have to puke, or starve for days. I just stopped binging and kept up the "I want to be thin" mindset so much that it became a lifestyle. Truth: I eat whatever the fuck I want. Pizza. Chocolate. Sandwiches. Chocolate. Whatever the fuck I want. Just not a lot. I get full super easy.
My relationship with D. has been so fucked. On, off, on, off, on, off. Fuck. Fight. Love. Etc. It is mentally and emotionally exhausting but I am completely dependent on his love and validation. I have stopped recognizing myself. I do not know how to be without him. Whenever I think I can, he squirms back into my good graces and I fall, helplessly, back into his strong arms. I fucking love him. I want us so bad. I keep screwing up though, and showing my crazy. Looking back over the year, I have fucked up more times than not. I have been jealous, insecure, horrible, accusatory, and cryptic; I've lied, held back, told half truths and done whatever the hell I want while always making sure he did what I want. Essentially I tried to make him my bitch. It did not work. All I've done is rub my depression off on him. And I do feel guilt.
Work is ok. I am bored by my job and resentful of my boss's success. He makes a lot of money and pays me low, offering no benefits. If I'm honest with myself there are perks though. We've traveled (once). He has given me different projects which have definitely enhanced my experience. He has bought me lunch and brought me breakfast soo many times. It's been a year now. I will try to stay for at least six more months. I feel that familiar restless itch, which makes me switch jobs and move so much, but perhaps the itch is me. In me. My inward battle of the self.
I'm on beer number two and about to blaze. Talk later. Love and Peace.