Now we just have to pick a spot and book it. :)
Gotta get in some Dairy Queen ice cream before the summer ends!!!
Also, I’ve been working crazy hours and missing out on relaxation time with B since we are always being productive or nearly asleep from being tired when we get to hang out. SO! We have decided to take a weekend vacation! I’m very excited about this idea. I’ve never done something like this before. It feels very self-care-y and also relationship-care-y.
Wow. Okay. So maybe this is the year that I really fix stuff for good?
A quiet birthday celebration with B and another cupcake selfie (not really a selfie since B took it)
Professional? I really wish I had a day off. (I also end up hating how this skirt looks whenever I wear it and am generally having a crap-tastic body image day).
Please, please, please. It’s my birthday. I don’t want to spend my birthday feeling fat and guilty.
Also, I’m sexy in bed wearing my compression stockings because I have hella edema in my ankles/legs.
Let’s play Ehlers Danlos or Eating Disorder!
OOTD is more exciting when I don’t have most of my clothes or a mirror and still have to fit dress code. It’s looking a little silly. Yay.
Can I be done with moving yet? At least I bought food today to keep at work for my insane hours, so I can now have two meals and a snack at work, even if nothing else works out in my day. I got yogurts, kiwi, bagels from the real bagel place, lunchmeat, butter, banana bread, some trader joe’s frozen meals, odwalla supplement protein shakes, and chocolate covered sunflower seeds.
Well… packing… ootd… I could really be happy with not moving so frequently. It will be a miracle if I make it through the next two weeks with my increased work hours, moving to my new place, thinking about career stuff, an interview, my birthday, starting this clinical trial, and not crashing and burning emotionally.
Wish for my miracle?
Why haven’t they found a way for my anxiety to power a hydroelectric plant or something? I’m pretty sure it’s an unlimited source of raw potential energy that’s just sitting here in my chest.
My pain clinic nurse weighed me “wrong” (in sneakers and jacket, not light clothes or gown without shoes, and then rounded down arbitrarily to account for it).
And that’s okay. It didn’t feel okay at first but I wasn’t about to freak out at a nurse who had no idea about eating disorders and “weigh-in protocols.” It’s okay even though it’s permanently written somewhere as part of my records.
Numbers don’t have to be “real” because I’m not a calculator or a math problem. There is no “ONE REAL TRUE WEIGHT.” My weight is not a higher power or a truth of the universe.
I’m having awful relationship stuff right now and feel like it’s everything falling apart, so I could use some love tonight.
And I’m getting weighed and have to face my parents, who are only in town for the weekend, in the morning and pretend to be okay? I’m sorry for being needy.
I finally ran my errands and then took advantage of tax-free weekend and an old gift card to get a new lipstick. It’s the Bite High Pigment Pencil in Tart.
I could smell my housemate cooking at 1 am and I was really hungry and trying to ignore it because I’d already had my meals for the day. So I went and ate pasta and now I’m eating it and it’s 1:40 am. I always feel like I’m binging when I eat late even though I know that this is NOT TRUE (binging has never been part of my ed), so I’m working through it to feed myself even though I am not sure it was the right call because I could have just gone to sleep. Idk.