not a nice person

I finally weigh 140lbs - I've been stuck here for a while. My temper outbursts have caught up with me at work. Today I was berated by my boss who told me that when he hired me he thought I was a good person but now he's not so sure.

I am not a good person...I can barely fit into a size 6.

I accidentally threw away my phentermine last month with all of my Christmas bags. I've been without it since just after Christmas.

Binging and purging has increased significantly. I let myself binge and purge on 4 Hawaiann rolls - my face broke out.

I have worked so hard and I'm still fat, ugly and worthless. I'm lucky to still have a job.

I am not allowed more than 300 calories until after my weigh in on Monday.

I truly wish my suicide attempt had been successful.

what does it take to be happy

Four and a half months after starting my weight loss project, I've finally reached a healthy BMI, I'm at the high end of my normal weight range. I'm wearing a size 8 (haven't done that since 1995. I've got men paying attention to me. I'm receiving compliments and making people gasp when they see how much weight I've lost. I'm making new friends at work and being asked to do things...invited to parties and to dinners and to go places.

And yet...

My relationship with my mother is more strained than it's ever been in the past 10 years. My spending is more out of control than it's been in the past 6 years. My self esteem is lower than it's been in the past 12 years. And my eating disorder is more in control now than it's been in the past 14 years.

I won't give up. I plan on losing at least 20 more pounds. I want to be a size 4-6. I also have loose skin that I'm working on shrinking. I look "okay" in my clothes, but I look more average than anything.

I don't know what to do about my mother. If I had the money - I'd buy us separate houses, condos or a duplex. She doesn't comment on my weight. She doesn't comment on my clothes. She doesn't really talk to me other than to complain about being left with my animals. I'm not what she wanted in a daughter. I'm never going to be. I tried. I tried very hard to believe the way she does. To go to the same church she does. To practice the same faith she does. But it's not me. It's never going to be me and I feel resentful that I've wasted the past 10+ years trying to mold myself into what I perceive as who she wants me to be rather than finding out who I really am and what I really believe.

I'm tired of trying with her and just wish she had a means of providing for herself.

I'm just tired and ready to be happy.

Silent Treatmented

I am thinner than I have been in 4 years. I'm able to wear the suits I bought when I first moved here to go to school. Last night I put on the suit I wore to my father's funeral. I have to admit - (FOR ME) - I look great. One of my girlfriends told me her husband said I look hot. My female friends tell me all the time that I look skinny. A man (albeit a sleezeball) paid special attention to me on Thursday when I wore a red little sweater and told me how nice I looked. I'm in 10's! Finally! I'm thinking about taking back the size 12 suits I bought on sale last month b/c they are 12's and almost too big.

I'm able to do 2hr workouts twice a week, on top of my other 1hr workouts (totally a minimum of 6hr workouts/week).

I feel good about myself, although I'm still self critical and know I have a ways to go. BUT, at least I feel GOOD about myself.

Friday night I met up with coworker/friends at a bar and let loose for the first time in probably 5 or 6 years. I had three merlots and 2 lemon drop shots. I wasn't sloppy drunk, but I was happy drunk. So happy drunk that my friends took away my keys and drove me home. I KNEW how pissed my Mom would be. And have been paying for it ever since.

I got up early the next morning to go get my car and she wouldn't talk to me. In fact, when I tried to ask her if she wanted me to leave my dog out or put her up she said, "I don't even want to talk to you right now." She had that same judgmental-you're-not-the-daughter-I-wanted tone in her voice like she did when I was in my twenties.

She hasn't really spoken to me since. I feel like I'm in a loveless marriage and waiting for her to ask for a divorce.

Part of me feels abandoned. Part of me feels rejected. Part of me feels judged. And part of me wants to tell her to f*ck the h*ll off and let me live my g*ddamned life. Seriously! I'm sick and tired of her projecting her manic f*cking depression onto me. I'm not a charismatic christian. I don't want to end up like her...alone, believing I'm all alone b/c it's God's will and one day He'll spontaneously make me a millionaire. She doesn't work. She has "fibromyalsia" which I call b*llsh*t on and uses it as an excuse not to work. She has fantasies about prophecy and the 2nd coming and in the end...she's just like her mother. Alone and resented.

I don't want to end up alone and resented. I don't want to become her. I want her to let me go, but I feel so much guilt about that, that I don't think I will ever sever whatever tie she has to me.

FML FML FML FML

I can't win for losing. I also think she's jealous of the weight I've lost b/c she's not losing that much anymore (probably has something to do with the fact she makes every f*cking excuse in the book to not exercise).

I hate her. I love her. I want to be rid of her. I need her. I'm tired of being judged by her and shunned with her disapproval for not living my life the way SHE wants me to. It's not fair.

I wish I would just meet the man of my dreams who could afford to help me support her and let her live in my house so I could move on. She, of course, wouldn't approve of him b/c he won't be a televangelist or mega-church pastor and that would probably end our relationship forever. I'm afraid for her and how her life will end. I hate that, that is my solution...I wish I could afford alone, to let her live by herself...but that's not realistic with my job and salary. It's the only way out that I see.

And I don't know if that will ever truly happen anyway...

The crush situation...I wore the previously mentioned "red sweater" for him last Thursday. I couldn't tell if he "notice-noticed" me, or if he just looked in my general direction. I can tell you that I made him notice me by hanging around a coworker-friend all afternoon that he had to deal with until he approached her and made eye contact with me. To be perfectly honest...I don't think I turn his head, which makes me feel rejected.

Another friend called me this afternoon to tell me that a man she knows was coming by to meet me/check me out. He's early 40's, 2 kids, not interested in marrying until they're grown (no idea their ages). He did come by. He was attractive and nice. I don't think he was interested either though. I doubt I'll hear anything back. Probably not a good idea to "date" someone who works for the same organization I do anyway. (I tell myself these things to lessen how rejected I feel).

I don't understand what is wrong with me. I know that I'm not really pretty, but I'm not ugly either. I have friends who are much less attractive and have / had no problem. It's like there's almost a supernatural force that binds men from wanting to be with me. Maybe I'm using that as an excuse for my lack of desireability.

I'm tired of thinking about it. My Mom just opened my door without asking or knocking to let my cat in. That was an F-U to me...She never opens my door without asking fist. Fuck her. I fucking hate her.

Becoming thin isn't making me happy internally - it's just an external distraction that gives me something to focus on that I can change. My life...my situation...I'm not sure it will ever change.

If I were perfectly honest, I'd admit to what I think will end up happening to me. I think within the next five years or so I will be diagnosed with cancer and it will take my life. My Mom will help take care of me. Friends will come by and visit. But I won't have anything to look forward too, so it will just be an out for me. I can't say I'm not looking forward to it in a weird way either. My Mom will be taken care of with my life insurance (yes, I have a life insurance policy to make sure she will be financially okay). I worry that it's not enough and she'll blow through it. But I'll be gone and that's all I really want anyway...hopefully, I won't be able to know how things turn out for her.

God, what a fucked up blog entry. When do you think she'll start talking to me again?

PMpSychotic

I feel like I'm slipping and losing it. I had dinner and drinks with girlfriends on Friday night and ate like a f*cking pig (worse than ever before). I also lied about my past. I don't know why - probably b/c if I told the truth - that I'm a depressive with an ED...well, that would just be too pathetic and honest...I needed something sexier, so I created it. I'm good at that. I do it all the time. No one knows me. I don't think anyone ever will.

Still PMS'ing. Anger and resentment builds and focuses its attention on my mother. Blame. Blame. Blame. It's all her fault I'm in my mid-thirties and have no children, no husband, no privacy. It's all her fault for being so selfish and not letting me leave her and start my own life. All her - not me...her.

I saw "the crush" on Friday. He looked right through me, of course. Who am I kidding? I'm not that attractive to men. Women will tell me I'm cute or pretty. Men don't. Accept it and move on. Stop allowing your heart to be wrung out like a dirty rag.

My weight is up four pounds and I want to die. I wish my period would just start already.

I have a project due at work tomorrow and I'm hoping to get an extention b/c it's not ready. I'm anxious about it and unable to sleep. Why do I do this? Normally, I would've worked late during the week to get it done, but I HAVE to workout. I was too lazy to work on it this weekend. I could half-@ss it, but I don't want to. I want to do it right. I can't even pray and ask God to work it out for me b/c I feel so distant from Him that any prayer asking for menial help seems trite.

My mind is racing...it's Sunday night...it always races on Sunday night. Tonight seems worse than usual.

I bought more Bronkaid yesterday. On Saturday, I took 13 laxatives (5 in am and 6 in pm). It made me feel "cleaned out" but it didn't make my weight go down...

I hate my life right now. I hate it.

meltdown

I had one tonight - a meltdown, that is. I went away last weekend and blew my diet on Friday (at 1675 calories...the most ever). Saturday, I managed to stay under 1000 calories and I was back on track Sunday. I went 3 days without working out and with the increased calories, I managed to gain 3lbs (I was down to 159.8 on Thursday 10/21. The trip was terrible and the weather completely ruined my plans...typical.

I purged for the first time in a long time (probably 4 weeks or so) in the hotel room. My friend and I shared a room and I snuck the ice bucket into the bathroom and pretended to take a bath while I did it.

I'm starting to feel more and more overwhelmed at work. I need to stay late and get on top of things, but that would mean I miss my aerobics class, which would mean I would stop losing, which would mean I would stay fat, which would mean I might as well curl up and die.

Tonight, I really wanted to stay, but I also really needed the workout. The instructor didn't show last night and I only got in about 30 minutes of low impact cardio. Well, tonight, a different instructor didn't show and I felt sheer anger swell up inside my veins. I wanted to throw a tantrum. I wanted to go off on the manager. I wasn't kind - they knew I was pissed, but I held it in and left.

Great. Now I haven't had a serious workout in 5 days! So, I went shopping instead. I've spent money that I don't need to be spending on a new wardrobe. I've skimped on some things and splurged on others. Right now, 14's are a little big on me and 12's are a little snug. I have a lot of clothes that I can't wear and it's frustrating in my new work environment where I'm surrounded by thin, pretty, professional women who have husbands and fiance's to support them so they can spend til their hearts are content on pretty clothes.

I found several new pieces tonight, including a cowl-neck dress that I feel gorgeous in. However, at the same time, I'm having to remind myself that I'm still a fat@ss and the guy I can't stop thinking about & crushing over has no idea I exist. He doesn't even know my name. We've made eye contact. I've seen him look at me. He's said "hi" to me, but I also know that I cannot gauge the difference between regular attention men give to women and "I'm-attracted-to-you-attention". I have absolutely no idea how to tell the difference and I've read men wrong all my life, so why would I get it correct now?

God, this blog is so self-serving and whiny. I broke down in tears twice tonight. I think I'm about to start my period. I'm a mess and I f*cking hate hormones. I hope I am about to start my period - at least that would explain the 3lb gain and inability to lose it.

FML. Really.

On My Way

Today I weighed in at 162. I've officially lost 30lbs in 2 months. I can no longer wear my 18's - I can't even get by with them...they fall off. I'm pulling out old clothes left and right. I spent all day Saturday shopping.

I fully realize that I'm not even half way to my goal (125); however, I'm close to half way and I feel like a different person.

I even have a crush that I'm trying to keep under control - i.e. realistically tell myself that nothing will ever come of it so stop your pining and prevent your own future heartache.

I weighed in and measured at the gym on Saturday. Since May 2009, I've lost 43lbs and 51.25 inches. I had to add the numbers twice!

I'm keeping my calories under 500 as much as possible. I'm for sure not allowing myself to go over 800 on "eat out to fit in" days. I'm working out 4 times a week. I'm feeling great and starting to feel pretty. I find myself smiling and feeling more outgoing. The anger and bitterness is starting to go back into their hole.

I'm on my way to feeling like living again. It's about time.

hunger schmunger

Last week's goals:
I completed four 1hr workouts (Tue, Wed, Fri, Sat)
I didn't make 180 by Monday...came in at 181.2 so I lost 4.6lbs instead of 5.0
I also didn't come in under 600 calories everyday last week:
Mon 9/6: 234
Tue 9/7: 359
Wed 9/8: 536
Thu 9/9: 648 *FAIL*
Fri 9/10: 787 *FAIL*
Sat 9/11: 559

I would give myself a B- for overall performance last week. Not too bad...worked out, restricted. You'd think I would've lost more than 4.6lbs??? I was hoping to lose 20lbs my first month. I'm still shooting for that and I think it's doable if my metabolism will cooperate. I need to remember to take the chromium picolinate in the afternoons with my 2nd dose of phentermine. If I don't make 20, I MUST lose at LEAST 15. That's absolutely doable.

I love the feeling of my stomach shrinking. I love putting on my "almost too tight fat pants" and feeling them being almost too loose to wear. That happened this morning. That feeling is addicting.

I saw a girl that works for a different agency yesterday who was morbidly obese (she was probably 250lbs+). She had lap-band surgery not too long ago and SHE LOOKS FREAKIN' AMAZING. Like a younger sister version of herself. That was really, really motivating. I'd love to run into people I went to school with who could barely recognize me. I want to make people's jaws drop. I want to turn heads. I use to do that. I miss that attention.

Next Week's Goals:
Calories under 600 (I've already gone over that Sunday & Monday, but made up for it today). Need to weigh in at 176 (that would be a 5lb loss this week). I just realized that to make 20lbs in 30 days, I would have to lose 11 lbs by 9/23/10. That's 10lbs in 11 days. At the rate I've been going, I'm not sure that's realistic, but maybe if I kick up the workouts. Workout 6 days.

not too bad

Last Monday was the day before my period. Normally, I cry and feel suicidal. That didn't happen at all...phentermine effect? Because I didn't get ready for a huge work project, I ended up cramming on Monday night and being ready to go on Tuesday. By Tuesday, I started my period, but was too busy at work to notice. I barely ate at all and wasn't hungry either. I didn't lose, however, which is a complete let down, but at least I didn't gain on account of my period. By Friday, my project was complete and I wanted to eat out so badly...I was craving chips and salsa and cheese dip. A co-worker went with me...I had chips, cheese sauce, salsa, & borato (avocado, fried onions, fried jalapenos and fresh tomatoes). We got back to the office and my boss slices a gorgeous bakery-made double layer strawberry cake with cream cheese icing. I had a small slice and immediately felt regret.

Panic started to set in. I had done so well and then went and blew it. I got a plastic food container out of the kitchen and took it back to my office. I locked my door and filled it completely up. I got interrupted and had to stop and take care of an on-call matter. Once it was finished, I went back in my office, locked the door again and threw up until I couldn't anymore. It was so relieving. I've never purged at the office before (that I can remember). I took my trash can liner, wrapped it up and threw it away in the large trash can in the kitchen. I made sure there was enough trash on top that no one would notice.

My friend C. asked me to go to a wine tour on Saturday. I hesitantly agreed...I knew I needed to get out, but I really would've preferred to stay in bed all day (pretty much what I've done today). I mustered up the strength to go and enjoyed myself. I took small sips of wine...in total, I probably had 3/4th of a normal glass of wine. I ordered a salad with balsamic vinaigrette dressing and restrained from eating the candied pecans on it. I've allowed myself to eat cheese, but had a hard time resisting the delicious buttered, flavored crackers...I think I had 3.

All in all...I did extremely well for a road trip - never ate any fast food and kept my calories under 900. I took 4 laxatives before going to bed and woke up this morning getting rid of a lot of "junk" that has kept me constipated for the past week.

While we were on our road trip, I struggled over not being the driver and having control. There were so many times I wanted to stop and shoot and C. never said a word. I saw some beautiful tree covered hills...I'd forgot what it was like to take a road trip and be surrounded by beautiful scenery. It's funny how you're able to forget what life feels like when it hurts so badly to live it. I can't say that I truly had fun and appreciated what I saw. I didn't have an epiphany, like, "This is what I've been missing out on...how could I have wasted so much of my life?" I think I'm over that stage. I've wasted most of my life. Now, I'm just trying to figure out how to get by without wishing it would hurry up and be over... And the only way I want to do it, is with a thin body... So I guess before I can let myself get on with living, I'm going to have to starve my ass off literally.

Things with Mom are getting better, but there's still a lot of anger hidden under the softening exterior of our relationship. A lot of what I'm doing is faking being interested in what she has to say. I texted her every time we were headed to another town and felt fucking ridiculous doing it. I'm 3& g-damn years old. The entire drive home I worried that she would act like a hateful bitch because I'd been gone all day and left her with the animals. She was fine when I got home. She's unpredictable. It's hard. I have so much pent up resentment. I really do think the phentermine is helping though - more so with my depression than my weight loss. Am I someone who's missing neurotransmitters and needs a stimulant to feel normal?

I did terribly today and it was partly b/c I didn't keep myself busy. When all I do is sit in bed, watch TV and fool around on the Internet, all I can think of is food. I had photos to edit, but I haven't been able to even upload them to my laptop. I just don't have the drive and interest in photography that I use to have. That makes me sad, because it use to be so challenging and fulfilling.

I'm still at 185. I really, really, really want to lose another 5lbs this coming week. That's going to be my goal. I've got to stay under 600 calories this week and workout at least 4 times.

i need possibilities

I've been trying to figure out how I can go from wishing for death to beginning to look for a future in just a matter of days. I think the secret lies within the possibility of weight loss and hope in a pill...a pill that has be up at 3:34am.

I lost hope. All I could and to a certain extent, can see, is a lonely life with only my mother and no one to love me other than food. I would exist in my bed and get up only to get something to eat or use the bathroom. I would live through movies and sitcoms and documentaries that allowed me to escape and forget my loneliness.

Maybe that's it. Maybe I'm suffering from loneliness rather than depression?

I saw myself in the mirror at work for the first time in a long time. I have stopped wearing a lot of makeup - partly because I don't have the energy or desire to put forth the effort and partly because I feel like I don't deserve to wear makeup when I'm so fat.

I understood what Mom meant when she said she doesn't recognize me anymore and that I look like I'm thirteen. I saw sadness manifest in my skin. My face sags and my eyes are shallow. I hated myself at thirteen and thought I would never be loved. Here I am at thirty-five with the exact same feelings...wtf?

I keep feeling like a little girl trapped in her thoughts. I keep thinking about my father and how he would have lived his life if he knew he would die at fifty-eight. He knew he was dying at fifty-seven. Why didn't he tell me he was sorry for the divorce? I don't think he realized that he chose other women over me. It's hard to see our faults.

What are my faults? I'm self centered. I'm overly judgmental of other people. I'm moody. I'm greedy. I can be mean and rude. I live inside my head rather than in my life. I am jealous of other people and what they have. I am reckless with money and eating. I am overly sensitive and cannot handle the same criticism that I dole out to others - especially those close to me. I never show anyone the 'real' me in my 'real' life...never. I regret whenever I open up and give someone a glimpse of who I am. I am dependent on stimulants (ephedra & caffeine). I worry for no reason. I am hipocritical about my faith. I wallow in self pity. I hurt others feelings so they will feel just as badly inside as I do.

Can I change these? How can I change them? Am I willing to change? I am motivated now to change my physical appearance - I've started restricting, exercising and taking phentermine. I've started using a firming/antiwrinkle cream at night. What have I done to change who I am inside? It's no wonder I don't attract men. Who would want to be with someone as negative and fat as I am? Can I change without going to therapy? And why can't I pray anymore? I feel either abandoned by or duped by the idea of a personal God, while at the same time, knowing in my heart He exists.

All these thoughts fly around my head all day and all night. I can think about all of these things and yet I can't make myself face paying bills that I have the money to pay - I'm afraid of it...I hate letting go to the money and yet, in the end, I end up paying more in late fees.

If I can just focus on the possibility of weight loss right now and start seeing results, maybe the rest will fall into place.

the day before normal

This is my typical weekend pattern:
Friday night: margaritas and Mexican food with one of two friends or go home and eat dinner with Mom and watch TV...go to bed around midnight.

Saturday: sleep in, wake up around 9:30, eat unhealthy breakfast, surf the internet for hours and hours and hours in bed. 5pm get out of bed and get drive-thru. Go back to bed and/or watch television or a movie in the living room. Go to sleep around midnight if I don't water the garden.

Sunday: repeat Saturday, except at 5pm, start freaking out b/c I haven't done laundry, haven't cleaned house, haven't changed the litter box, haven't accomplished anything...work up the motivation to clean and do laundry around 6 or 7pm. End up in bed around midnight.

On three day weekends, just add another Saturday. Occasionally I work up the energy to go to the grocery store on Sunday. I never have a list and get there and have an anxiety attack b/c I can't plan out what I need for the week.

Monday morning, I turn into a functional human being...but only when I walk through my office door.

I have a meeting with my insurance adjuster in the morning. I don't have to be at work until 1:15. I didn't do all of my laundry and didn't clean at all. I should have time to get some things done in the morning.

I wanted to start working out after work tomorrow. Sabotage.

I had plans to go to lunch with a friend on Sunday. I ignored her text and missed it. I texted her tonight and lied about having a crazy weekend that caused me to forget. I apologized. I haven't done this to her before (at least not that I remember). This is one of the ways I lose friends. I couldn't deal with it on Sunday. I couldn't deal with much of anything this week or weekend.

I'm PMS'ing right now. My emotions exacerbate significantly. In a day or so, I'll be less dramatic and more reasonable (fingers crossed). I'll probably read this and my previous post next week and cringe. Oh well - I promised to be honest. This is me and all my ridiculous honesty.

Tomorrow:
- strip/wash sheets
- finish laundry
- change/clean litter box
- scrub bathroom
- dust entire house
- vacuum entire house
- take out trash
- pack gym bag
- buy scales
- buy fruit & veggies

ambitious. we'll see.

the thin line

It's not working. This life that I'm living and the way I'm living it. It's not working. As a girl I would cry myself to sleep because I was convinced I was unloved and wouldn't find love in my future. My fear of being unloved turned inward as I became a teen. I would cry myself to sleep because I hated the way I looked. I thought I was fat. Thought I was ugly. I didn't have boyfriends and was afraid no one would ask me to prom. They didn't.

As a young woman just out of high school, I lost weight. I felt pretty. I felt sexy. For the first time in my life, men paid attention to me. Still, none of them interested enough in staying around for a serious, long-term relationship. I cried myself to sleep because I feared I would never marry. I didn't.

Then I met someone. Someone I wanted to be 'the one'. I got pregnant. He didn't want it. I wanted him more and ended it. Shortly after that, he ended our relationship and I died inside. I checked out completely. I withdrew from life. I didn't work. I didn't go to school. I slept all day. I watched television and ate all night. I slowly lost my friends and slowly gained fifty pounds.

My mother chastised me. My father ignored me. I started praying. I started reading the Bible and searching. I moved far enough out of the depression that I was able to start planning and setting goals.

My first was to get out of the hellhole my father had me living in that was soon to be my coffin. I moved in with my mother and needed her support. She was initially cold and untrusting - partly because I had given her reason and partly because she can be cold and untrusting.

I set a goal for myself - get a bachelor's degree. Check. Did it. I started working part time and seeking full time employment. Check. Did that too.

Once I started working, I felt important. I felt like I had purpose. I was good at what I did. I discovered that I was organized, hard working, reliable and self assertive. People admired me. I made friends with my fellow, mid-twenty-something co-workers. Our friendships grew and we developed a close-knit group who took vacations together and spent weekends together.

I made two decisions - to start dating again and get a Master's degree. One man I met through a work acquaintance and the other I met online. Both were horrid, horrid experiences. The first man, Steve (I think), was looking for a wife. He was a wealthy rancher and in his late thirties. His bio-clock was ticking and I thought I had the choice of pursuing a financially comfortable life with a man I would never truly be in love with. He was irritated one night when he called and I couldn't meet him because of work. He stopped calling shortly thereafter and I later learned that about the same time his ex-girlfriend became pregnant and they married. There went my comfortable life.

The internet guy was an obnoxious, alcoholic, liar who helped me make a decision. I decided that if I couldn't win at a game, I wouldn't play it. That was 2002. I haven't dated since. I haven't been kissed since. I've only been (sort of) asked out once since.

Since, clearly, I was a relationship failure; I focused all of my attention on grad school and work. My friendships were starting to come apart, however. Little quirks and nuances that each of my friends possessed started eating at me. Resentments settled it. Jealousy settled in. I started detaching and pushing away. More and more time was spent focusing on school. I received a promotion at work. My friends began resenting me and pulling away - this has been a recurring theme in my life.

Master's degree? Check. Next goal - doctoral program. This time, a little glitch…my father was dying of cancer. I wanted to move away. I wanted to start over.

I had been living with my mother the entire time. She initially supported me. Once I started working, we split the bills 50/50. She was making decent money for the first time in her life, but she hated her job. That was nothing new - she hated 'working' period. She has fibromyalgia and has struggled with depression my entire life. I wanted to get away from her. Not completely...just physically. I wanted my own place. I wanted my own life, but she needed me. We developed a codependent relationship over the years and I couldn't (and still can't) sever it.

I was accepted into a program in a neighboring state. My mother moved with me. I knew my father was dying, but I chose to move on. I supported him throughout his illness. His new wife hated me and tried to separate us. After I moved, he never called me again. He never spoke to me again...not even as he was dying.

I went back home when I learned he had a few days to live. I watched him fight death surrounded by the walls of his home - walls that his wife stripped of any photographs or signs of me or my brother. When it was over, I was relieved. I felt a tremendous amount of guilt for the feelings of relief.

I inherited a sizeable amount of insurance money that helped me through my doctoral program. On the day of my graduation, only my mother was present. My brother, my grandmother, my uncle didn't come. I wanted my brother there, but only if he would have made an effort to get there on his own rather than having my grandmother pay for it. I didn't necessarily want my grandmother or my uncle there, only because of the conflict it would present with my mother, but what hurt the most was they never asked about it. Once again, but for my mother, I was alone.

I was one of the few graduates in my class to get a job offer before graduation. They pay was terrible. Really, really terrible, but the work was what I thought I wanted to do. I have been there almost two years. At times, I love my work. Other times, I want to run away.

Shortly after being hired, I bought my first house. And I have been here ever since...in this house. I have a mother, a house and a job, and that is it. I have a few friends, but no one who knows me. I haven't allowed anyone to know who the real me is since I left behind my old work friends for my post grad program five years ago. I went to church for a while and developed relationships there, but have completely dissolved those friendships. My faith has begun to dwindle and come into question.

People at work are starting to notice that something is wrong with me. I've been asked if I'm depressed, but have covered it up with medical excuses.

My relationship with my mother is at an all time low. Other than Social Security income, she is completely dependent on me financially. She hasn't maintained employment since we moved here five years ago. I place a lot of blame on her for the way my life turned out. She has no idea. I resent her because she has chosen not to live her life. She and my father divorced twenty years ago and she refuses to date or remarry. She doesn't have friends. I am her friend, her provider, her caretaker at times and her daughter. She has no life and neither do I.

Tensions are at an all time high. The air is thick with tension and anger. Somewhere around twenty-two, I stopped the guttural, deep and painful crying. It went away for several years and was replaced by numbness. It returned when my father died. I can literally feel a stabbing pain in my heart again... the same pain I felt as a little girl who was certain she would never be loved... the same pain I felt as a teen who hated the way she looked...

At thirty-five, I have the exact same pain and the exact same feelings. I hate the way I look and I am certain I will never be loved. How the hell can someone feel this way for thirty, f'ing years?!

Most of my weekends are spent in bed, with my laptop. I'll get out of bed for food and sometimes to take some photographs. Mostly, I stay in bed and escape in television, movies and the internet. I do have some good weekends when I'll tackle a project like starting a flower garden. Once every six weeks or so, I will clean my house like a meth-fiend. Those weekends are almost always followed by a weekend in bed.

I daydream about being told I have cancer and choosing not to treat it. I go to sleep with images of laying my head down on the lunette of a guillotine and closing my eyes, waiting for the blade to fall. I've fantasized about suicide since the age of five or six. When I was fifteen, I swallowed an entire box of Actifed and only woke up feeling incredibly slow and drowsy. I didn't tell anyone about it. After the abortion, my desire to die was overwhelming. The only thing stopping me then was my fear of spiritual repercussions.

I no longer want to kill myself, but I am tired of living an anesthetized life. I feel like I just might be someone who has passed on and is caught in between worlds. Most of the time I feel intensely angry with intermittent bouts of intense feelings of sadness to the point of full blown grief. There are times when I can laugh. At work, I am very, very funny and make people laugh. That's my only escape from the angry - making people laugh.

This anger and sadness has to end. I have to make a plan to change things. I want to change five areas in my life:
- my appearance (weight/makeup/wardrobe/style)
- my emotions (anger/sadness)
- my faith (settlement)
- my finances (spending/saving/investing)
- my relationships (friendships/boundaries/to be further explored)

I am starting with my weight. My weight is a physical consequence of how I choose to deal with pain. It is my first target - probably because it is the easiest to control when I really try. Tomorrow is the last day I am going to allow myself to indulge in eating. I'm also going to buy some scales. Ugh. I haven't owned a set of scales in three years, but it's time and they are essential for holding me accountable.

This is my quest for happiness and these are the target areas that I think will help me get there. I hope this blog doesn't become too self-indulgent, but I can promise it will be honest. Hiding who I really am and my true feelings from the real world is exhausting. I don't have the energy to do it here too.

Please help me God - this thin line I've been walking is starting to vanish and I'm afraid it's the line between life and death.

To Do Tomorrow:
- buy scales
- diet plan
- workout plan