Time is the diamond

Time is just flying at the moment. Things and words, thoughts and actions all whizzing past with nary enough time for consideration. I worked from home the other day and didn’t so much as turn the tv on. I haven’t spoken to my family in ages and I feel like I just haven’t stopped running!

Today I feel like going to a park or a wood somewhere, despite the rain, and just writing and writing until my head is empty and ready to receive new info and experiences.

I’m still feeling pretty down about myself. Inside and out. I’m getting old, yet still suffering spots, I’m gaining weight yet still not a nice shape. I’m trying to be positive but feel depressed. All in all I am terribly disappointed with the me who exists at the moment.

So. I decided to make an effort to improve things.
1. Doc gave me antibiotic for skin.
2. Not picking skin as much ( old compulsive behaviour creeping back in).
3. Trying to eat more despite sudden horror of current weight.
4. Bought myself three Ida CDs.
5. Dressed in clothes I felt more confident in. Black flares and top with purple and black corset-back coat, and with a gorgeous necklace gifted to me by my sister-in-law, and my sunglasses, which I love.


6. Walked around town with what would look to other people like dignity and confidence.

So now I feel great, right?

Well, no. Sadly although the initial effect was positive ( I saw a few people I work with and for once wasn’t totally embarrassed by how I looked…not that I think they noticed me). Some less than great things have dampened my efforts.

1. Ran out of most foods so breakfast was porridge made with water 😦 and tea because out of coffee.
2. Only had ~200 kcal by 1pm whereas usually have + need more like 900 before lunchtime.
3. Stupid Pfizer have discontinued a pill I take, so now I have to switch to another with horrible side effects. This is most saddening 😦
4. Massive month late April showers.
5. SO making me feel like shit during shopping trip as per usual.
6. Wishing I could get dressed up go out drinking and dancing and being silly but knowing there is no opportunity.

I got myself a new lipbalm pomegranate flavour donchaknow. Fascinating. I know.

There was so much to say but its hard to get the flow going when you are typing on a smartphone.

Damn! I need to dye my hair. Every time I swear there are more greys.

Bastards are taking over my scalp, acne and wrinkles taking over my face.paranoia creeping all over my psyche.

Come on bank holiday weekend, show me what (good stuff) you’ve got!!!

Wobbles of the mental & physical variety

Things which a recovering / recovered anorexic should not have to hear from their significant other

..I only had 700 calories yesterday

..Im going to cut back on my spending, you are going to have to eat less

..your belly skin looks all weird and wrinkly, it never used to look like that…


today I am having a wobble of the recovery / ed variety. I all of a sudden hate my body. I hate the extra weight, I feel nauseous and I don’t want to eat (ok the nausea / lack of appetite may be due to something else, like stress from last week ) but I’m finding SO’s sudden preoccupation with calories (as he is losing weight – and needs to)quite nostalgic – seeing him all proud of himself if he has less than his goal amount, or deciding what to eat based on which has fewer cals…ARGH! Ive spent so long desperately trying NOT to think about those  things, but all of a sudden Im aware of how wobbly and untoned my body is and how all round unattractive / ugly / hideous I feel.

These days are usually very few and far between but today is hard. I have hit my highest ever weight and although I should feel good about that (only 4.5 pounds to goal) for no apparent good reason (after some weeks of reasonable body acceptance) I now genuinely think that I am gross and that no-one will ever find me attractive.

What a useless post. sorry to waste anyones time. I hope tomorrow I can read this and wonder what my psychological drama was all about….


Brief note

Epr week sucks. Boss lady is going off tonight leaving me in charge until thurs afternoon. Now I have to steel myself to make sure that the kids dont unwittingly damage something or make a bomb by mistake with the Dewar. I spent all day yesterday in the dungeon with the beast and only exploded one of my samples….fell asleep last night in adrenal exhaustion.

Awesome (unfinished) dream

The dream was set in my teenage years when I had a healthy interest in paganism and white magic ( Wicca). The scene was set like the program ‘warehouse 13’ and I had just shared a kiss with some hot older guy in the middle of searching for a magical object. Well we found it . A small gold box and took it with us. It did nothing until my blonde sister (not my real sister, she has black hair) touched it it expanded into this golden box large enough to hold a human standing up and with transparent panels containing a gold book.
Immediately it started controlling my sister age about 8. She was the only one who could enter the box and read from the book. She believed if she did that she would be able to fly, and the paper wings stuck to her back would become real. As a little girl she would do anything for the promise of flight so I tried to simulate her flying up through a window but the idiots inside let her out again, not understanding their plight. outside the golden box were instructions. If I could get her to willingly remove her wings before she stepped in the box then the process could not happen.
What she didn’t realise was that if she entered the box and read from the book a dark force would be unleashed so everyone in the vicinity would be killed. She was the chosen innocent one but as her closest genetic relative if she failed to complete the task, I would have expected to either do it in her place or pay the price…It was necessary for me to split into two and watch from equidistant places. From my bifurcated locations I whispered to her that of she had any reservations about the process she must tear up the book or sprinkle lime juice over it. As a sign of willing she approached with a lime in hand but tranced look on her face. When she stepped inside a fire engulfed the box and I held my breath to hope she made the right choice. There was a great roar and explosion. I was speaking some language I’ve never heard of then everything went black.

The next scene was at present time inside a gigantic church. The pews were full of my sixth form peers, those who would have been in the area when the first part of the dream occurred. We had all been summoned there for a trial. A literal witch hunt. Groups were called up, judged and either let go free or burnt alive inside the church. Those who came back to life were killed by sword and then known to be dabbling in the ‘dark arts’. Midway through sun was streaming in so we all had to turn 180 degrees and shuffle towards the other end of the church. They held up examples of incriminating object such as a green face mask like the ones I made for a masquerade ball a few years ago, and several items of jewellery reminiscent of my own. When finally I and SO were called up my mother was in charge of the registration…they spoke to him first and he confessed that I had forced him to paint a mask and that he knew nothing else so he was set free. This whole time I said nothing, knowing I was the one they were looking for, knowing I had a gothic bracelet which cemented my identification and yet I kept saying in my head it was only ever white magic, that these people were far more evil than I. The woman looked at me with great fear in her eyes saying she didn’t like the sound of what I was saying, she conferred with my mother giving me these terrified glances like she couldn’t beleive it was really me. Like they thought I was just about to conjure something evil, like I had so much power and I just had a smile on my face.

Then I was woken up.
Ffs. The most awesome dream for ages and I get woken up! Gah!

Complaints of the skin variety

This week has seen an unacceptable plague of acne set up camp all over me.

Ok maybe not all over.

Ok maybe most people wouldn’t notice .

I genuinely believe that acne bacteria should be incapable off growing on human skin. I also think that adults should not have to suffer such teenage afflictions.

I know it’s not the end of the world, I know they will probably go away but I also know that these bouts are getting worse…since taking a course of roaccutane to treat my disgusting skin (at the time leaving me with enviably flawless skin)  it has gradually been sliding over 4 years despite religious applications of topical retinoids. I think I’m ready to ask my gp for some antibiotics because I know I’ll never get on Accutane again unless things get shockingly bad and I’m already ashamed to show my face in public 😦

The really shit thing isn’t the soreness or anything, it’s the emotional impact. I awoke to find three new facial inhabitants, none of which were going to hide subtly behind foundation, oh no and two more on my chest meaning my choice of tops to wear was instantly diminished.

You can think that I’m being silly or over-the-top but having even one spot makes me utterly miserable. All I can see in the mirror is a huge pimple with my face attached. Everything about me becomes ugly, shameful, dirty, imperfect…everyone who looks at me I’m just sure they are staring at my spots….

Maybe it’s a carry over from when my skin was REALLY bad and people DID stare and make comments 😦 maybe it’s because I’m 30 and I shouldn’t have this issue. Maybe it’s because I hoped that gaining weight and health would IMPROVE not worsen my skin…

So there we go. I feel absolutely revolted by myself, I am gross, I am just so ugly you cannot imagine. I wore my ‘im ugly on the inside too’ tshirt and felt justified bearing that slogan.

Everything is just dreadful if you have acne.

Dear cosmos please take away this affliction, I promise to drink more water and do more exercise and remember my vitamins…dont make me take vitamin a and kill my liver….