Everything is stress/relief.

I applied to grad school = stress
I got in to grad school = relief
I started looking for an apartment = stress
I found a potential apartment = relief
My mother didn't like the potential apartment = stress
She finally agreed it would be the best option = relief
I have to figure out loans = stress
My university fucked up my financial aid = stress
I don't qualify for financial aid = stress
My current loan offer isn't enough to cover my tuition, apartment, life = stress
Still paying back a different loan, but it won't defer until two months into next year = stress
My dad doesn't support me going back to school = stress



Just when it feels like it's finally going to be easy, it's fucking not.

UNconscious

I've been unconsciously restricting lately.

I think it's partly due to my meds and partly due to my mindset.
Which is not a terrible mindset.
I can eat all of the food I'm supposed to in a day (1200 cals) and be okay with it.
Or I can have a day like today where I eat maybe 600-900 cals and be okay with that.


I think I'm getting better at telling myself "No" again.
Which is helpful/nothelpful
and, I know, potentially danger zone.


But whatever.
I just want to keep losing weight.

Okay.

I'm okay. You're okay. We're all okay.


This past weekend I had an epic binge fest with my friends. Alcohol, food, drugs, it was wonderful. Now I'm back to real life and back on my diet plan. I somehow managed to not gain too much weight, and am only about a pound or two heavier than when I left on Friday.

I have a weigh-in tomorrow, so we'll see how that goes.
I've decided that I want to lose about 20lbs by the next time I go see them. I have a dress I want to wear that will look great (well, as great as my fat ass can look) after I lose 20+ lbs. And it may or may not partially be because of a guy, okay, don't judge me.

So with my diet plan, especially with the medicine, I lose about a pound a day, give or take. I'm hoping that by adding more exercise, it will be more.
Because I am a conceited bitch.

I am very very close to purging right now.



There's really no point in trying to say anything against it because it is the only way to deal with what I'm feeling right now.
Especially since it would be difficult to hide cutting myself for my job.
















I want to/don't want to.
I don't have anyone to talk to. I want to/don't want to talk to someone. I want to throw things and break things and hurt things and hurt myself along with it.


Update:
I did not purge.
I did not cut myself.
I did binge like an asshole.
I did continue hating myself.

But that's not new.

Pissed.

Here are some things that piss me off:
-I gained 1.5 pounds since yesterday, and I was well within my doctor-approved calorie limit for the day. What complete and utter bullshit.
-My dad and I were watching TV when Princess Kate came on, and I said something about how it isn't fair that she's so pretty. He responded with, "Well you could be pretty too if you had some discipline and self-control." Fuck you, Dad.
-Apartment hunting.
-These bratty kids I work with.


That's all for today.

Progress?

Went to the weight loss doctor for my second checkup.
According to their very fancy scale, I have lost 5 pounds of fat since I've started. Woo.

They put me on phentermine, which is an appetite suppressant. At first she told me that she didn't usually prescribe it to patients with a history of restriction, but since my patterns for the last few years have been bingeing and bingeing/purging, she decided she was going to.

She also told me I need to go to see a therapist or something.
Bleh.


I binged like a fuckwit last week, but apparently still managed to lose 4 pounds.




I don't really know what else to say right now. So, that's all.