Trying to stick the phrase “YOLO” and be positive and not worry about what I’m eating and what size I am. But it’s so hard. Today I had lunch at work to see if that would stop the nibbling I do brought the day and when I get home. But it didn’t. I still nibbled and then proceeded to eat a whole bag of chocolates. This makes me feel so fat. So ugly. So greedy. So ashamed. I caught my naked stomach in the mirror earlier when I was getting changed and I saw the rolls over the top of my jeans. I saw the indentation my jeans had made from being to tight. I’m trying to embrace it and learn to love my curves. But right now all I see is fat. Rolls. And fat. It looks ugly. I don’t look thin any more. Let alone slim. I look podgy and wobbly instead. I’m really trying to ignore the thoughts and just eat what I want when I want. And go with the flow. So what if I go up another dress size. So what if I do. But that freaks me out. I’ve put on so much weight In these last two months. I’ve never weighed or looked like this before. I hate myself so much. I miss the skinny me. The slim me. The stomach that caved in. The bones I could feel. I find myself missing it. But there’s nothing I can do I don’t have the willpower to restrict any more. I’m so hungry I just eat and eat. I’ve gone from This to this:
I’m fat. So fat. So very fat. I’m ugly. So ugly. So very ugly. I’d be better off dead.
I still haven’t washed. It’s past a week now. I hate my body that much. I got stressed earlier which let to a binge. Today I was meant to restrict but instead I binged. Next week I have a trial model shoot so I’m meant to be dieting all this week. This rate I’ll turn up. They’ll take one look at me and turn me away. I’m not fat to be a model. To ugly to be a model. I don’t know why I even tried. Why I even entered. Who am I kidding!
Fuck this. Fuck this awful day. Fuck it all.
I haven’t washed for nearly a week. I can’t bare to get naked and shower or bath. I can’t bare to see my naked body. I just spray deodorant and wash my hair. I can’t bare how I look. I can’t stand it. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg to a crap week.
I adore my brother but we’re not speaking all because of my decision I made on my love life.
I’m rapidly becoming skint and I’m trying to move out. The two don’t go well together.
I can’t remember the last time I saw my bestie. She doesn’t seem Intrested in meeting up. I suggest it. But we get nowhere
I’m tired. Like all of the time. I’m still being sick from my hernia. I’m sick of baking cakes and sick of the long commute to work
My boyfriend isn’t speaking to me because I turned down a house he loved but I didn’t.
I have no one to talk to and no life apart form work
And right now I feel the world would be better off without me. I’m fat. I’m ugly. No one would miss me. Maybe I’d just be doing everyone a favour
I’m fat. I’m massive. I’m fat. I just tried on all my size 8 jeans (uk) and there all too tight. Two pairs don’t even do up. I’ve shot up 2 dress sizes in less than 2 months. No one believes me when I say fat but this is proof I am. I’m out of control. I’m always hungry. I eat loads. I have no self Contril. It’s all out of hand and I’m so so so ugly. So fat. So obese. I hate my body. I can’t even get in the bath I hate it that much. I never get naked. I hate my body. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.
And here’s proof!!
I’m so stressed. So confused. Why isn’t life simple. Im in the process of being an adult and looking at moving out which I want more than anything but I know I won’t have the full support of my family. Im also scared. It’s a massive step to take. What if I can’t afford it? But I can’t stay at home forever. I need to move out. So why not do it now? I’ve found a flat I love. But I’m petrified money will be an issue. But when isn’t money issue. If I’m honest it will always be a problem. I don’t earn much. I don’t have a great salary. Im not the bread winner. It’s all just scary stuff. Do I bite the bullet and just do it or do I carry on looking. Why isn’t everything just simple and easy. And on top of all of that I’m fat. I really do think I’d be better of dead. I’ve really let myself go. I’ve gone up two dress sizes. I’m massive. I will diet. I need to. I need to loose this weight. I need to tone. I need my belly gone. It’s disgusting
I washed. I washed. I washed. My first time since Monday. 4/5 days without washing or changing underwear. Yeah I know it’s disgusting but I’ve done it now! I took my meds too! Hopefully turning things around and getting out of this dip
Unless you have depression no one can fully understanding the debilitating effects it can have. For some reason. And I don’t really know why. I’ve stopped taking my meds. I know I need them. As when I stop this happens. But I don’t like taking them. It’s horrible relying on medication to get you through each day. It’s a horrible feeling. And I think that’s why I’ve stopped. I don’t want to become reliant on three little tablets. I want to do it myself. But when I stop this happens. Today I’ve literally spent all day in bed. I haven’t washed in days. I haven’t changed in two days either. I went to bed fully dressed and haven’t changed since. Until 10 minutes ago I hadn’t brushed my teeth or my hair. And it took all my strength to do that. I hated doing it. It hasn’t made me feel better. It took every ounce of Will power to do it. But I’ve done it. The next step is to get changed. And that will be a mission. I hate all my clothes. They don’t fit or they make me look fat. So what’s the point in changing. It’s just going to cause my mood to dip even more. But I need to. I need to get out of these clothes. I still haven’t washed. I can’t bring myself to shower or bath. I can’t bear the thought of getting naked and seeing my body. I haven’t changed my underwear in days. But it doesn’t bother me. I don’t care. All I want to do is disappear. For this mood to Stop. I’m moody. I’m irate-able. I’m snappy. I’m fed up. I’m depressed. I’m argumentative. I’m hard work. I hate who this has made me become but I can’t seem to bring myself to take the meds to make it stop. It doesn’t make sense. I hate being like this. I don’t like it. I don’t enjoy it. But why can’t I make it stop.
That’s it. I want to give up. I want to restrict so bad but just don’t seem capable. I’ve piled on the pounds. I’ve just tried all my size 8 (uk) size 4 (US) and there all such a tight squeeze. The buttons and zip only just do up. But then my belly flops over the top. It’s disgusting. Realistically I need the next size up. But I don’t want to buy it! I’ve gone up two dress sizes in two months. It’s awful. It’s out of control. I need to do something about it. I need diet pills. I need to exercise. I need to restrict.
It’s not getting any easy. I still feel fat. I still see fat. Photos that are taken of me I look obese. I look down and see my belly bugle. I wobble. I have flab. I have a pot belly. It’s safe to say I completely and utterly detest myself. My face is chubby. I can’t bare how I look. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I went liposuction. I looked yesterday and diet pills and I’m deadly close to buying them. I’m ugly. I’m ghastly. I look awful. I’ve never hated my body as much as I do now. O literally can’t stand it. I hate it.