All is going according to plan, MUAHAHAHA!

I want to detail my previously-mentioned plan.

On normal days, my maximum caloric allowance will be 1500. This is what my dietitian feels I should consume for weight loss. Although I want to lower this (significantly!), I have a long row to hoe here, and I reeeeeally don't want to crash out my metabolism early in the race.

Prior to anything I deem a "special occasion", I will restrict. This will begin with one week of keeping things to 1200 calories per day. 1200 is considered the minimum required by a normal adult to meet nutritional needs. At 1200 per day, I get hungry between meals but not light-headed.

For the week before the occasion, I will step things down. 1000 for two days, 800 for three, and a final push of 500 calories for the last two. I've never consciously restricted to below 800 before. I'm curious to see how it goes. I'm wondering how I'll be able to skate it around my husband, since I basically won't be able to eat anything significant in front of him.

All of this, so that on said "special occasion" I will be able to eat how I please. No rules, baby! Now, special occasions involve other people, so I won't be able to flat-out binge, but if I want to have six cookies, by god I fucking will.

Post-occasion, I will step things up 100 cals per day for a week. 500, 600, 700, 800, 900, 1000, 1100. One week of 1200. Then back to my "normal" allowance.

Certain foods are strictly verboten outside of special occasions. No cheese, no rich sweets, no fried foods, no fast food of any kind. Free foods are 10 calories or less per serving (gum, crystal light packets, that sort of thing).

I will aim to exercise for 30 minutes or more five days per week.

I will not weigh myself. Period. It gets waaaaaaaaaaaaay out of hand; I end up weighing myself every time I go into the bathroom when I am dieting. Because my crazy pills have an outside chance of destroying my liver, I go to the doctor fairly frequently. I'll go by what they say. Doctor's office scales are much crueler anyway.

How shall I know if things are working? I have a coat. THE COAT. I actually won said coat in a prize drawing from Lucky magazine. The coat has been mine for six years now. It's gorgeous. Grey-green suede with a shearling lining. I've worn it ONCE because my ginormous hips won't allow the bottom buttons to button.

Isn't ednos grand? All the joy of anorexia, but you don't really lose any weight. I binge, purge, restrict, and hate myself, but since nothing but the hate is consistent, I'm still fat. Fuck.

Finally, all meds must be taken (let's try to avoid the major crazy times, shall we? also, some of my prescriptions should, theoretically, help me shrink) and work and school shall not be skipped.

Today is the first day of my super-restricto week, with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day being special occasions. 1000 allowed today.

So far I've eaten:
3/4 cup shredded mini wheats (not frosted) 100
3/8 cup chocolate soymilk (I gave up frosted mini-wheats to justify using chocolate milk on my cereal) 50
Clementine 35

My idea is to have five roughly 200 calorie meals sprinkled throughout my day.

I'm going to spending a lot of time online today, since the White Death has blanketed Cincinnati and I have nothing to do and no reason to go anywhere. Until Husband gets home, I'll play video games, make a few phone calls, exercise, and fill in my nails (grown out acrylics= GHETTO!). Hit me up on AIM if you want, Lacey Lyndhurst.

Tenuous

I had it for a day. I felt thin. My thighs did not seem to rub so much and I felt like there was enough space between my wrists and hips. When I breathed out, I could feel the waistband of my jeans drop because nothing was holding them up. All day long, I kept running my hands over my stomach, examining its new flatness.

That was yesterday. At night, I went to the gym for two hours and sweated until they threw me out. I came home and went to bed, snuggling my husband who was already asleep.

When I woke up this morning, I felt fat again.

I was feeling so good when I got home that I laid out my measuring tape and the book in which I keep my stats so I'd remember to check in the morning. Sure enough, I'm down eight inches overall from a month ago (neck, chest, shoulders, waist, hips, right and left biceps, right and left thighs, right and left calves). I'm also down an additional two pounds from yesterday.

That lovely feeling, however, is gone. I was sleek, light, fast, like a kite or a bird. Today I just feel like me again. Somewhat akin to a potato.

Back it comes, from the darkness into which it vanished...

So, I just got back from a much-needed week long vacation. The trip was GREAT, but honestly, I'm glad to be home.

Yes, I failed that class.

Yes, I have to show up to the first session of the class I want to take next quarter and beg the prof to sign me in.

A little sneak peak at a longer post tomorrow...

My birthday is coming up. It is a big one. Some rules need to be established.
I need to get my shit together for school. Details on my fuckery and plan to fix it.
I have some medical problems that need attention. C'mon, I know you want to know more about my boring personal shit.

In closure, I went grocery shopping today because there is nothing fresh in your house when you get home after a week away. No, I didn't have a bunch of nasty stuff, I got rid of everything before we left. I had to go alone because DH was dealing with some branches that had fallen in the front yard (crazy storms here this week). My normal store recently closed, so I have been trying out new ones to see where I like going. The place I went was super awful, confusing and noisy and surly staff and generally stressful. Grocery shopping is a high-risk activity for me anyway, so...

I binged between one store (the one I go to for fresh stuff) and another (the one I go to for certain odd-ball staples that we like). The tally?

2 Dove chocolate bars
2 Starbucks apple fritters
2 Starbucks mini birthday cake donuts
1 Starbucks chocolate mini donut
1 McDonald's double filet-o-fish sandwich
Lots of diet coke to wash it all down (Seriously? Why diet coke with a binge? I guess that's why they call it a disorder, because it doesn't make sense.)

The outcome?
Hehe, outcome. See, that's funny because it came out. Nothing like yakking in a public restroom. I figured that if anyone asked if I was ok, I could lie and say it was morning sickness. 'Cuz nobody questions pregnant ladies. Oh, and then, since I felt pressed for time in the Trader Joe's bathroom and couldn't finish, I purged some more when I got home.

"Honey, would you go bring in the rest of the stuff in the car? I need to use the bathroom. Specifically, I need you to go outside for a minute so you won't hear me retching."

Quality.

In lighter news, I managed to eat more-or-less like a sane person on the trip. So that's good. I'm interested to weigh myself tomorrow morning and see how it compares to pre-trip weight. Also, after the snarf-and-barf, I went outside and walked for close to an hour. Lots of nice hills. So, all is not lost.

Talk to you tomorrow.