Frustration with Franle

Bad week of binge behaviors. Cyclical last supper eating. Having "just a little more..." Fooling myself into thinking I'm cutting back on food when I'm really not. Eating things I don't really want because I don't want them to go to waste.


I'm so frustrated with myself, that I can't stop, that I can't change. I won't even take the tiny steps I need to take to stop... doing something, anything else before I dive into the food.


I hate the way I feel in my clothes and that makes me eat. ARGH. I AM SO ILLOGICAL.


I know it's got something to do with my family, my work, my life. I'm stressed out about being here, but I don't really want to go back to HNL now either. I dread going to my job and today's first day back made me want to run away - I'm so worried the work is going to pile up and crush me. I worry about my sister, my father, my mother, my brother in law, the cat. I worry about myself.... a lot. When will this bad behavior stop? When will I be normal again?


I am pissed at myself that I can't change. I crave routine and normalcy even though I don't really like it. I want to wear my skull boots tomorrow but know I have to project a better image than that. I am dreading putting clothes on in the morning because they will squeeze me. I worry that people think I look fat. I canceled dinner with my ex's brother because I didn't want him to tell Rod I've gained weight. I hate that I feel sick after eating too much, that I roam the kitchen looking for more food to eat, that I'm never satisfied with food. I hate myself every time I say, "Not again" but do it anyway.  But I can't change the lame eating. Perhaps I really am addicted to food, or at least have to abstain from certain foods for a while. But I don't want people telling me what I can or can't do, dammit.


I pounded my body into the ground with a run at the gym tonight. It was actually slow, but I felt tired. My Achilles ached, my foot hurt. I worried I was lowering my immune system and I'd finally catch what's going around. But I kept going. It was only 30 minutes but it was indicative of my abnormal behavior. If I didn't binge, I wouldn't feel the need to exercise every day. If I didn't exercise every day, my body might have a chance to heal. If my body healed, I could train more. If I could train more, I could lose weight. Sad.


I'm also treading back into sleep deprivation already. And subverting my needs to the needs of others. And work is already making me a less nice person. I had my usual "I have to go home!" moment with my sister last night which was mostly about work (and also about wanting to get ice cream at Molly Moon's but instead I ate the ice cream I bought "because it was on sale", and ate way too much of it).


I'm sick of myself, but refuse to get more help and yet don't know what my path forward is. I don't want to end up fat. I want to be thin again. I want to be better than the average person: fitter, more attractive, more successful. But I feel like a loser right now. A big fat loser. :(