fast faster!

Today is day 3 of my fasting and so far *knock on wood* it's going okay, but I'm hesitantly and cautiously walking into this. Yesterday morning I stepped on the scale, it told me 128, which means I literally dropped 7 pounds in 24ish hours. If this is true then it's flipping awesome, but I look at these numbers and it seems impossible, they are lying to me. Before I went to bed I was 132, then after coffee and a BM the scale told me 128. This morning it told me the same thing, so I believe it now, but honestly I was hoping for a drop today, just a little something to keep me going. It's selfish of me really, I can't believe I got back to this point so quickly, I should just be thankful and shut the fuck up, really.

I'm trying my damnest not to count calories on this fast, the highest caloric item I'm allowed to have is 40 cals (almond milk) which I had yesterday and then felt guilty about it for hours. Today I've only consumed crystal light, almost 2L of water, an altoid and 2 pieces of gum. I'll have some veggie broth before I head out tonight, and a cup of coffee to keep me going. I've decided to give up alcohol for Lent, which is a great excuse for when I am out with friends, and it really is something I enjoy. I love sitting down with a glass of wine and having a great conversation, or curling up with a book and a glass of wine, really I just love wine - probably because I lived in Italy, go figure!

Tonight I'm going out with a few friends, for 2 different birthday parties. Christina came back into town for the weekend so originally we were trying to decide which to go to, until realizing that they are on the same street! Seriously! So we're going to hop back and forth between the venues, which is even more brilliant because if I don't want to provide my Lent excuse for drinking I can just keep saying that I just had one at the other bar! There will be lots of my old friends, at both of these parties tonight and it's giving me a lot of anxiety...

"What do I say if they comment on the weight I've lost?"

"What if they say nothing, because I'm still fat?"

"What if they think that I've gained weight since the last time they saw me, I was much thinner before"

"How am I going to handle that kind of attention?"

"What if they stare?"

Getting ready is always a struggle, I hate picking out what to wear. Or I love to hate it, I'm not sure. I love fashion, I love trying new interesting designs and being bold with my wardrobe. I like to look very put together, and am very very picky about my clothes and the ways in which I wear them, so they send just the right message. With the weight loss, nothing fits like I remember it to, nothing fits like I want it to, nothing looks like I hope it does. Things are either shapeless or bulging, drowning me in fabric or showing too much skin, or I'll never be warm enough in it. I hate that I now hate things I used to love.

I feel like I have no personality anymore, just a shell. I never understood what that meant, when people would describe themselves as 'a shell of who I once was'. Visually, I thought of a mold, or an empty dish and now all I can see is just the hollowness of a human, whose actions, thoughts, and words are so un-monumental and bland they are barely functioning. Like those soldier chocolates they give you at Christmas, in the red foil with the big black hats like they wear in Russia? They look like a person, but you unwrap them and all it is as an unshapely thing. You bite into it and it's so unsatisfying, there's hardly anything there! Just a shell of what a person looks like.

All I want is to be by myself. I just want to be alone, and safe. It's absolutely exhausting to go to these parties and pretend to be the person I was and pretend to give a shit about what everyone else is doing. It's so trivial, really.

"How's school going? What are you studying? How are you liking it?"

"What have you been up to?"

"Are you working, whereabouts? Oh cool! I love that place!"

" Yeah call me next week, we'll go out for lunch!" (HA)

Theres a girl that I think I will see tonight, she runs in the same social crowds, and I have a suspicion that she has disordered eating as well. I've been out with her a few times and she always declines food or alcoholic beverages, but it's more than that. I see the way she looks at food, and people eating food, the same way I do: with disgust. Disgust at the food, the gooey, messy, fat filled, jiggling food. Disgust at your friends for eating it. Disgust at them for ordering it in front of you, like it is a malicious action. Disgust at yourself for wanting some, just a bite. But no. I've been dodging her messages the last week, just because I'm not sure how to proceed. The more time we spent together, the more likely she is to figure it out on her own. I like having this be MY secret, something only I know about. Because I've realized, that if I can't do something 100% completely, entirely on my own, I feel like I don't deserve credit for that success. In the same respect, if I fail and received help, it's not my fault, but the poor soul who was just trying to help me, they fucked up. But I would LOVE to be able to talk to someone that I know, in real life, about all of this. I know that if I was to mention something to her, my paranoia would just increase. It would give her too much power over me, every second of every day I'd wonder if this was the minute she realized how fucked up this all is and decided to get me help and tell the world. I can't let that happen. No, no, no.

So I'll go to this party, get ready alone because my friends are going out for dinner beforehand, be the girl they want me to be, come home and cry. This whole day I've just been waiting for an excuse to cry, but I can't. I've tried, just can't. Bought a new giant body pillow today to help me sleep and couldn't get it into the pillow case because I was too tired and weak: tear up. Dropped my eyeshadow trio on the ground and cracked one colour: wanted to punch the wall. I can do better than that.

2 more days until my body should enter ketosis and then it's smooth sailing. The 3rd day is always hardest for me, that's usually my hill so I just have to make it through tonight. One hour at a time. 

Love always,

xoxo