It's funny how fast things can change. I was riding a total high at the beginning of the week. I was happy, I was productive, I was jet-setting to DC, I was finally feeling motivated. Really truly motivated.
Basically details aren't super important but I was put in a category somewhere between limbo and rejected. By a boy (of course, right?). And I fell. I was in the shower trying to figure out how to craft this post. I've been engaging in a lot of Destiny's Child therapy and one of Beyonce's glorious lyrics is sticking out to me:
You know I'm not gonna diss you on the internet, cuz my momma taught me better than that.
Though I guess this is not dissing, but rather a processing of what I'm going through. In the shower I figured I'd walk you through my week. And I also think my food consumption over the past seven days or so has been interesting as well. So we'll include that.
Monday was the day with the weird planned binge that never happened. It was also the night I showed up to DC. In DC I didn't eat particularly horribly until my mom's big dinner where I just didn't hold back. I stocked up on appetizers and pretty much ate everything put in front of me (except I did leave half of the dessert). Wednesday was my big positive thinking day. I was exhausted due to the late DC train ride and so work was a little difficult but I was cheerful and planning on GETTING THINGS DONE. Thursday was a really good day. Work was fun and busy due to opening night that night. I got home, got all dolled up and looked pretty hot (if I don't say so myself!). I took the boy with me to opening night and we had a really swell time and got a drink together after and that's where shit went down.
I didn't get home until super late and I felt terrible. I could not sleep for the life of me. And I'm a sleeper. I VERY RARELY have trouble falling asleep and so when I CAN'T it all feels particularly traumatic. I can't sleep because I'm upset and then I get upset that I can't sleep so I continue to not sleep and the spiral continues. I got up raccoon-faced with mascara blotches on my pillow. I put my hair up in a ponytail and set off for work.
I work reception. I am the front desk. I am the "face of". And while usually I love small talking with my coworkers and catching up on the little gossips of the day, I could not have resented my job more. Of COURSE everyone was asking me who the boy was (totally unaware of the complete misery going on inside of me). I regretted bringing him for this alone. And on top of that, it was my uncle's birthday after work so I had to trudge over there and put on a happy face. Completely against what I was feeling. Since it was a coworker's birthday and my uncle's party I managed to consume two slices of DENSE chocolate cake that day. Also someone brought me a picnic lunch from one of the meetings they were having. I had already brought lunch for the day. So what did I do? Ate both.
Total disregard for myself, my hunger, my happiness.
By dinner I was more in control, maybe because of the food scarfing that happened earlier. Though I felt like people were REALLY pushing food on me (it was family-style eating) and I started to resent that too. I've lost 65lbs, you really want to shove food in my face? What's that statistic? Obese people who lose a significant amount of weight almost ALWAYS gain it back within 5 years? You want to put me on that path??
I got home early, fell into bed, woke up 11 hours later. Upset still. The unhappiness I was feeling managed to infiltrate my day. I managed to drop off laundry, got home, got into PJs and watched Breaking Bad. I couldn't even tell you how many episodes I watched, but it was not insignificant. My unhappiness started getting channeled at things. I looked at my living room; it was filthy. I walked into the kitchen; dishes piled high. I walked into the bathroom; hair freaking everywhere. Four girls in one apartment is a fun time usually, but I think standard of living has dropped a little. Between episodes of Breaking Bad I would tackle clean-up tasks. I managed to clean out the entire kitchen, living room and bathroom.
But I couldn't eat. Even now the thought of consuming food is upsetting to me and makes me feel sick. I know I talked about the emotional eating bell curve earlier, but here it is in full effect. As time goes on, I get more and more upset. Probably because I haven't heard from him. When he and I ended the conversation he said we should talk about it more and soon. I agreed. And yet nothing from him. The first day or so there's the promise of a quick turnaround "What was I thinking??" But as time goes on, it feels more and more like the decision has been made. And I'm not the choice. And this puts a pit in my stomach to the point where adding anything just sounds horrible.
It was depressing that this was Daylights Savings Time too... as opposed to one more hour of FUN TIMES it's one more hour of wallowing while watching Breaking Bad.
And I know, I know. Why want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with you? You're young, you're now conventionally hotter than you were before. You get exponentially more attention from men than you ever have in your life. Go out. Get drunk. Kiss some boys. Have fun.
But I'm still pretty freaking said. I also almost resent all the new attention I get. I also am going to put this out there. I know a lot of you ladies who read this blog (not that there are a lot of people reading this blog but ...) who are on your own weight loss journeys have had a significant other with you the whole way through. I envy you that. I really do. I'm super jealous. I think it says a lot about you and a lot about your relationships. I'm sure it has a fair deal of complications that goes along with it, but to me the grass is greener on your side.
Sorry for the emoblog. Supposed to meet my brother for dinner tonight (bailed on him for lunch yesterday) so maybe that will help pull me out of my funk. Also here is a picture from when my friends surprised me at work on my birthday. I think I look cute and am super happy!