A Week Of Restriction + Work = Bad News Bears

I slept until 3:30pm today.

Funnily enough, I don't feel too too bad. On my 30 minute drive to work, I downed my first two coffees, and by the time I got there I was a shaking mess!

I work in a family-oriented chain restaurant in the evenings, and starting January I begin nursing studies... my first semester being back at school after taking a year off for "personal reasons". I am feeling so stressed it's unreal. I am only going back part-time (because I'm not fooling myself into thinking that I can handle it all!)

I took a huge step backwards today in my recovery. I should probably say that at one point in my life I was more focused on getting better; but that point is not now and I went and bought a scale. One with decimal places. UGH! I am trying not to be so hard on myself but I'm pretty sure that whole "being-too-hard-on-myself" thing is what puts me on my knees in front of the toilet in the first place. But I digress.

What I started writing this post to say was that because of my recent bought of restricting I spilled an entire pint of beer on a guy today when I was serving him. Oops! I made a dazed, shaking idiot out of myself. The worst bit was, he was so mad. He was so mad and I just wanted to cry and say, "If you had any idea what was going on in my life, you would probably take that comment back!" but of course I didn't, because I'm not THAT crazy. And of course, because I'm tired, starving, shaky, dazed, and out of it, and someone just yelled at me, I start crying. Like, a good solid bawl in the back where the cooks hang out. Talk about embarrassing. My manager (who also happens to be a very good friend of mine) comes to the back to console me... and what do I do? This would have been a great time to pipe up and say something like, "Hey Josh... I have an eating disorder and it's consuming my life." but it came out more as a blubbered "I'm just having a hard time right now... in my head." Well... that was the truth, wasn't it?

So anyways, I go to Walmart after work and I buy a scale with decimal points. I big-fat-lied to my wonderful, caring, understanding boyfriend that the reason why there is now a scale in our home, the home of a "recovered" bulimic, is because "I tend to awfulize what my weight is in my head, and seeing that I'm not as fat as I think I am will help me relax." Lie. A big fat one. I feel bad about it because he tries so hard to not ask questions and to just be supportive. I hope he'll understand.

I am still shaky and weird. And to top it off, I've got a bladder infection. I just feel like the world is falling in front of me, but I know it's because I haven't eaten a proper meal in a week and things seem worse than they are. I have the next two days off and I am crazy afraid that I'm going to pass the crazy threshold into bingedom.

Wish me luck,


jodi4903 jodi4903
18-21, F
1 Response Dec 16, 2012

Keep your head up Jodi..