i guess now is as good a time as any

to get all down and out and hit a bottom about my weight and eating and stuff. i know people make new year’s resolutions to exercise and eat right and lose weight, so that’s no new thing; in fact, it’s super cliche.

but i hope this is an actual real rock bottom sort of thing. i actually have no desire to go to the NYE party i’m supposed to go to tonight because i don’t fit into most of the stuff i would want to wear and looking at myself in most of it makes me want to throw up/die/cry … i just hate myself. i can only wonder what the fuck my friends think when they see me. i really am fucking fat, people. i think i’m fatter than i’ve ever fucking been. it’s horrible.

i’m sure some of it might have been due to not being on all of my meds, but you know what? most of it has to be due to … the way i eat and what i eat and all of that. big fucking surprise. i’m out of shape and i hate the way i look and feel and it sucks. i’ve read the secret and i know that’s not the sort of thing i’m supposed to keep thinking or putting out into the universe. but it’s SO fucking hard not to keep pushing that button.

i also am depressed right now. chemically, so. when i’m depressed, my brain picks a few good insecurities and just keeps pushing that button, picking that scab. it just can’t stop. a favorite is that all my friends are talking about me and hate me. thankfully, that particular paranoia/insecurity isn’t with me this time. this time, it’s my weight/body image (how horrible i look and how everyone notices and how disgusted they are with me) AND how (part of this is somewhat connected to the other, but not entirely) i am going to be alone forever and all my friends are married or getting married and have houses and families and/or good careers that they really love and are satisfied with or are going to grad school and i’m nearly 35 and haven’t even had a dating PROSPECT in nearly 4 years and haven’t even finished A college degree, much less a graduate school one and i’m fat and old and sucky.

*those* are the particular buttons my depression is having a good time with this january. and i cannot stop eating the shit out of my nails/cuticles/hangnails. i’m SO fucking lovely, ey?

anyway, i hope this will actually motivate me to DO something about it. as i was walking to the bus stop this morning, hating life (and wondering why i didn’t just walk all the way TO work if i was so fucking fat and then realizing it’s because i have horrible sleep hygiene) because i was getting out of breath for the stupidest reason, i realized … this is going to suck at first. getting out of breath on purpose (exercise) is going to suck. it’s going to feel bad and make me feel ashamed. but the only way around it is going to be through.

bring on 2009. i’m SO fucking over 2008.

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