Thursday, September 3, 2009

At an Impasse

I bought another pack of cigarettes even though I threw away the other pack I had last week. I've had a few of them and am sick of smoking them. I hate the smell of them, hate the way I smell after smoking them and while smoking them wonder what the hell I'm doing. I just had a cigarette at lunch and am back at my desk wanting to throw the pack away. Why do I keep doing this? I guess it boils down to cravings and felt I had to have a cigarette and bought a pack. I just realized while typing this. I lack discipline. This is why it's good to blog. You sometimes realize things about yourself while seeing it typed out or visitors to your blog realize it for you.

I wasn't hungry today at all and got lunch anyway. I had a salad because I thought I would probably get hungry by the afternoon and then would be stuck. I should have not eaten a darn thing. Now I am so full I feel sick and once again realize that I lack discipline.

I am getting bigger and bigger and bigger. My clothes are restricting while I refuse to buy larger ones. I look like a whale shark. I feel like a stuffed pig. Just give me an apple to stick in my mouth and call it a day. It will suit my physique just perfectly.

Two days ago I mowed the front and back yard. My muscles are still complaining from it. This morning I could hardly get out of bed and walk because my muscles were screaming with pain. That is how out of shape I am....I can't even cut the grass.

My knees hurt while walking and I get out of breath. I am getting hot all of the time because of the stores of fat all over my body. I feel like I breathe heavily while sitting because my lungs don't have enough room to expand with all the fat cells squashing them down. Even my eyelids are fat.

While typing this I got a granola bar out and am munching it. I'm full! I don't need it! But yet I do. The more I talk about my weight the more I want to eat. I just want to eat until I'm so full I pop and this shit is finally over.

It's funny really because I normally don't eat a lot at all. I'm not one of those comfort food eaters. I don't eat candies, chips or cookies. I don't eat granola bars. It's just lately I am so focused on my weight that I feel like an alien to myself and for some reason want to eat. It reminds me of my days of bulimia. When I was a teenager I would eat loads of food and vomit it up so that I could eat more. I would eat 10 bowls of cereal, throw up and eat 10 more, throw up, eat 10 more, etc. until all of the cereal in the house would be gone. I was skinny then. The only difference now is that I'm not making myself throw up. I want to, but I don't let myself get into the cycle because it was so difficult to stop before. Yet, I am sorta in that cycle, really.

I am going to weigh myself. It's been a while. There are scales in the building. Be right back....

I am back, huffing, puffing and wheezing because I actually walked. Went to the scales and found that I'm 253.2 pounds, which is 114.9 kilos or 18.09 stone for the Brits out there. The scales are located beside the vending machines and I stopped and purchased some peanut M&M's and a peanut butter Moon Pie. I never eat that shit, but today I will. Why not? I thought I was 260, and I'm actually seven pounds less than that, so by all means I need to eat! Even though I feel like I could vomit, I'm going to pack this shit in anyway.

Wow, while typing I'm getting really angry. Curious. I usually don't get angry. I am the depressed, emo type who just cries. Not now...I could smack the shit out of something at the moment.

You know, at least it's food I guess. If I was a drug user, I think tonight you would find me a lot like DJ AM who just died with 8 OxyContin not even all the way dissolved in his stomach, the ninth one still in his mouth, not even swallowed, laying on a bag of weed with a crack pipe beside him. At least he was skinny. Maybe I need to switch to drugs. What would my drug of choice be? I hate feeling out of control of my body, so which one would it be...hmmmm....

This peanut butter Moon Pie tastes like shit, but I'm going to eat it anyway. I should wash it down with a Mountain Dew or milkshake if I had one.

OK, just finished the Moon Pie and on to the M&M's! I'm not a big chocolate eater. I like dark chocolate, but don't eat a lot of it. M&M's I only eat them if going to the movies.

What the fuck am I doing?

Now the wimp is coming back and I want to cry. I'm no longer angry. I am lost. I don't know who I am. I am barely chewing the M&M's...just swallowing them to get it over with. I want to go to bed. I don't want to go to bed. I want to die. I don't want to die. I want to be a thousand pounds and not be able to get out of my house without a forklift breaking down a wall and getting me. I want to be skinny.

I want and want and want and want while increasingly becoming more empty inside. Nothing can fill this emotional chasm.

template by