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Thanks guys! Unfortunately, the scale was NOT kind to me this morning. In fact, instead, it told me that I had gained .2lbs. It's not much, I know, and I could safely assume that I haven't gained or lost at all really, but I was still really really hoping that my weight would have gone down. I guess I just have to restrict more.
But, my day is still ruined. I start my new job in exactly two weeks, and I'm panicking again. I hate how I'm feeling. I only have ONE pair of jeans that still fits properly cuz I've gained fifteen fucking pounds from my lowest weight in, oh, three months or so. Disgusting. I'm officially fat again. My love handles spill out over the top of my jeans, and my stomach hangs out over my waistband when I sit down. I feel like vomitting, I'm so upset with myself. And Paul wonders why I have panic attacks in the middle of the night.
I'm so ashamed with myself, I just want to hide in big baggy sweaters and stay in bed. Going to work is bad enough, knowing that everyone has probably noticed how fat I've gotten. All I want to do is make it through the day, go home, and lose myself in the make-believe reality of TV and Ana. I wish I didn't have friends sometimes, so no one would invite me out to do things, and I could just hide at home all the time, or at least until I'm skinny again.
Man, I'm having such a down day. WHY did I have to be up .2lbs this morning??? Next time I weigh myself, am I going to be up ANOTHER .2lbs???
Blech.
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