I did it again. I tried on jeans that are sitting in my drawer. And of COURSE they don’t fit, of course I’m getting fatter. I’m going absolutely batshit crazy over this.
I had a mini-binge. I tried to implement some of the tactics that I’ve learned in therapy. In the end, I binged on a smaller amount, and not on what I wanted. I probably saved myself quite a bit of bloat (not to mention calories).
I also took a xanax.
I know that progress doesn’t happen over night. I know that I shouldn’t judge my progress by the way my pants fit. But goddamn it, I’ve been so entrenched in “diet mentality” for 30+ years. I feel like a failure. I feel like I’m never going to get better, I’m never going to be thin and beautiful. I’m just going to be this fat, moon-faced, hideous monster forever.
I feel so worthless. So ugly. Nothing matters if I’m not pretty. Pretty = thin.
I can’t even articulate how I feel. I just know that I disgust myself.