RECIPE: Fried Rice

I got SUCH a craving for fried rice the other day.  Normally, it's not a food I feel okay eating. But when I make it myself?  Fabulous and low-calorie!  

Do excuse the shoddy picture - my camera apparently had more important things to do than be where I left it, so I resorted to my iPad for a quick shot.  It's all packed up in a box, with a bed of bok choy leaves, for lunch tomorrow.

Here's how I made this veggie fried rice:

Ingredients:

• 1 package Nasoya Lite Firm tofu
• 80g baby carrots
• 1 small onion
• 2/3 cup frozen peas
• 1 broccoli crown
• 160g bok choy
• 1 clove garlic
• 2 cups cooked rice, cold
• Lite soy sauce

Directions:

1. Press and drain the tofu.  (I do mine overnight in my TofuXPress.  It's a godsend for vegans!)  Then marinate it in soy sauce for however long you want.  I measured the soy sauce I marinated in, and then measured again when I drained it so I knew how much the tofu soaked up.
2. Dice all your veggies into whatever size makes you have a happy face.  (Mince the garlic, of course.)
3. Get a pan - preferably a wok - sizzling hot.  Spray it with non-stick cooking spray, and toss in the onion, carrots, and garlic.  Get them soft and nummy.  Add the rest of your veggies and cook for a minute or three.  Throw in the rice and soy sauce to taste.

YIELDS FIVE SERVINGS

Please Note: Nutritional information is based on ONE serving.

I Am Entirely Normal

(I work too much. For all of you NOT reading this, pardon my absense.)

In case anyone was wondering, YES, it is entirely normal to:

• Tell your friend you have misplaced a sex toy (or three)...
• And to text said friend a picture of them when you find them in a shoebox
• Collect a giant slug in a pickle jar in order to give it to a (different) friend...
• And to have a friend who is excited to receive a giant slug in a pickle jar
• Eat an entire pound of baby carrots in the space of half an hour
• And to wait until you shit orange in order to time your digestive system
• Have multiple unopened cans of "Pussy" energy drink in your room
• And to consider these cans decorative objects worthy of display

In conclusion, I am entirely normal.  

Suck it.

Calling in Sick

So, for the second time in nearly four years, I have called in sick to work.

I did so at 4:17am this morning.

Because I woke up at 3:58am in the worst pain I have ever been in.  Ever.  (And it's tied for first place - this has happened to me once before.)

Now, before you go thinking I'm a giant pussy, let me tell you that I have a fairly high pain tolerance.  I regularly smash my feet into things and don't notice I've done it until I notice bloody footprints on the floor.

My mother was helping me re-pierce an ear the other day with an old, thick safety pin, and she was going SO slowly because she was scared of doing it... And she stopped every two seconds to say, "Am I hurting you?  You have to TELL me because you don't react!"

And those are just the daily things.

I once broke my ankle.  When I was 10 years old.  And I walked on it.  For three days.  

*rocks*

So.  Yes.  I have a high pain tolerance.

And this pain?  It's the most intense, exquisite, mind-searing, fully-paralyzing pain I have ever felt. Abdominal pain.  Lower right quadrant.  Not appendicitis.  Most likely an ovarian cyst rupturing.  Most likely I REALLY need this checked out.  But, I hate doctors and I'm afraid to go because I am too fat, so I just wait to die.

In fact, the first time it happened, since I was alone and unable to move, I lay there wondering what people would think when they found my body.  I was absolutely positive I was going to die.

And it happened again this morning.

My poor roommate heard me, as I was on the phone at 4:17am (it took me nearly 20 minutes to be able to get out of bed and get to my phone), telling the on-call administrator that I wasn't going to be at work today and that I may need to go to the hospital.

So my roommate got up, and tried to take me to the E.R.  I scolded her.  She pointed out that I was breathing like I was in labor and there were tears trickling down my face, but I wasn't crying.

I continued scolding.  And refused to go.

(She told me later I was whispering to her the whole time.  I don't remember this, I swear I was talking normally.)

Two hours later, the pain was gone, and I was completely drained and almost dead.

Speaking of dead, I caved to my roommate's intense threats and actually called my doctor.  Who, it turns out, up and fucking died nine months ago. 

Whoopsie!

I won't be going to see a doctor.  At least not now.  Maybe if I lose some more weight.

Speaking of which, I got my first, "You're losing weight" statement in a while.  I have previously gotten a few of the "Are you losing weight?" questions... But a couple days ago was the first time I was simply told I WAS losing weight.

I don't like that.  I don't like people noticing.  I don't like them saying anything.  It just makes me feel fat. 

DieDieDIE

I have worked EVERY day for the past idontknowhowlong.

I slept for about ten seconds last night, because one of my clients (or whatever you want to call 'em) was in various hospitals from about 3:15 Saturday afternoon until 6:15 this evening... Why was she there?  Because she ate a spoon, naturally.

It took them eight hours to decide she wasn't going to be able to pass the metal spoon and needed an upper endoscopy.  Listen, I realize I don't have a medical degree (yet... I really should get on that), but that shit took me eight SECONDS to decide.  

And that's only because I spent the first seven seconds laughing.

Of course she wouldn't have been able to pass it.  IT'S A METAL SPOON OH MY FUCKING GOD ARE YOU ALL HIGH?

Sweet Jesus Christ.  

Also, I swear, the next time  her gastroenterologist attempts to tell me she REALLY does have dysphagia, fer serious yo, I'm going to punch him in his fucking throat.  As far as I know, dysphagia is not clinically diagnosed in people who can EAT ENTIRE SPOONS.  Fucksake.  If you can eat a spoon, I fail to believe you would have any trouble eating the food you could put on a spoon.

I ate like shit today, too, because fuck everything.

And I have to be back at work in 9 hours.  So I suppose I should try to sleep now, seeing as I spent all fucking night on the phone last night.

Oh, and today I was on the phone all day too, and even AFTER the girl was home I was on the phone for ages.  Mostly because the hospital decided they were waaaaaay too cool to tell us which of her various psychotropic meds they had randomly dosed her with at 1:30pm and 2:30pm today so I had NO idea what meds to instruct staff to give her tonight.  (She gets 8am and 8pm meds, so it was really anyone's guess WTF they gave her in the early afternoon, and it turned out it was a charmingly random combination of whatever-the-fuck-they-felt-like.)

OH AND...

Just because the universe hates me, as I'm struggling through my own 9a-9p shift today, at the main house I manage, WHILE trying to deal with the fallout from Spoon Eater from the other house I manage, one of the girls I support decided to lose her goddamn  mind for 7 hours straight.  She broke, among other things, her curtains, her blinds, a lamp, a picture frame, twenty-seven hair elastics, an end table, a standing fan, four toy cars, and my will to live.  

My shit-for-brains assistant manger decided to yell at her, in anger and frustration, and say things like, "Stop it!  Just stop it!  You're driving me crazy! Ahhhh!"  

I'm sure you can all guess how helpful that is while attempting to calm down a severely behavioral severely autistic woman with a history of violent self-injury.  I mean, you bet your ass I got loud too.  I got directly in her face so she HAD to look at me and knew I wasn't scared of her. I raised my voice to shock her into listening, but I actually said things she WANTED to listen to.  My assistant yelled at her, and she broke more shit.  I yelled at her and she stopped in her tracks and sat her ass down and allowed me to hold her in a basket-hold restraint until she was calm and felt safe.

It's not like I have some magic fucking knowledge straight from Jesus or Allah or the fucking dinosaurs.  We have multiple, mandatory, weeks-long trainings to learn to deal with this. 

STUPID PEOPLE MAKE ME ANGRY OMFG.

I'm going to sleep.  I have an 8am shift tomorrow during which I have to mind TWO behavioral girls (who, hahahaha!, happen to hate each other so badly the state agency I answer to mandated they not be allowed to live with one another) BY MYSELF because one of my staff needs to recertify in CPR.

OH AND OH AND OH AND...  

As my crappy day was winding down?  I got my period.

Hey, universe?  

Fuck you.

Stop the Fucking Presses

I lost a tenth of a pound.

My God, I hate my scale.  I do SO well, and I lose a tenth of a fucking pound.  At this rate, I'll never be skinny.  Motherfucker.

I managed to accomplish a bunch from my list, though, so that's good.

I'm rotting at work for 12 hours today, so that's bad.

I puked at work this morning, also bad.  Puked up massive amounts of stomach acid and bile at that.

Ate a bunch of Tums, and still feel like garbage.  I HATE bile.  The neon yellow color amuses me, I admit.  It freaks me right the fuck out that something THAT color comes out of my body.  But, Jesus fuck does it burn and taste like death.  And it lingers... I tossed baking soda in my mouth for a bit, and a coworker (who I told I was sick... Feel kinda bad about that...) went to buy me the Tums.

Feh.

RECIPE: Zucchini Rollatini

Aren't they adorable?!

They're easy, too, like Sunday morning.  Mmmm, mmm.

Here's how to make these bite-sized treats.

Ingredients:

• 2 medium zucchini
• 2 T Tofutti Better Than Cream Cheese
• 2 T sundried tomato spread
• Salt, pepper, Italian herbs, etc.

Directions:

1. Trim the ends, and slice your zucchini into lengthwise strips.  (I got 5 strips from each squash, and I used a mandolin.)
2. Saute them in a non-stick frying pan.  Spray it with a little non-stick cooking spray if needed.  Season as you wish. Remove from heat when they are floppy.
3. Combine BTCC and sundried tomato spread, and then plop a teaspoon or so on each zucchini strip.  Spread, and roll 'em up!

YIELDS TWO SERVINGS

Alternately, you can grill the zucchini, or bake it in the oven.  The filling is entirely up to you too.  As a vegan, I don't have the option of fat free cream cheese.  Or any cheese for that matter!  So if you feel like going with some fat free feta, fat free cream cheese, or something else entirely, have at it!

But, for mine, the nutritional information for one serving (which is half of the recipe - 5 rolls in my case) is as follows...

To Do List

So I've actually got tomorrow OFF from work.  Praise... whatever wants praise.

Here's what I need to do:

• paint my toenails
• purchase a jumbo muffin tin
• design out 800-calorie daily meal plans
• purchase whatever I need for said plans
• do laundry (clothes and linens)
• clean my stupid room
• clear out my closet

Yeah, I've settled on 800 calorie days.  I dunno, it just seems... Appropriate right now.  Low enough so that I lose weight, but high enough that I don't stall out. If I eat less, whatever.  If I eat more, I'll fucking kill myself.  Ditto if I purge.  I really gotta knock that off.

Let's see what I can get done...

And Now I Feel Like Hell...

A few minutes ago, The Ex emailed me. 

I'd been bugging him about the stupidly large amount of money he owed me. I gave it to him, YEARS into our relationship (I emphasize that so no one thinks I was being stupid.  There are plenty of reasons to think I'm stupid, yes, but I don't think this is one of them.)  We were saving it for me to move in with him.  So, yeah, I gave him a bunch of money. 

Which, I'm fairly certain, he used to move in with another woman, all the way across the country.

He hasn't told me any of that, I've just deduced it because I'm brilliant.  (He spent years underestimating me.  I'll admit, I let him.  But he should knock that off now.  I know where he is, I know who he's with.  He thinks I know nothing.  Ha fucking ha.)

I haven't told him I know, either. I'm waiting until I get my money back before indulging in any taunting or scare tactics.

In any case, he just emailed me apologizing, saying he doesn't have his laptop anymore (buh?  liar...) so he needed my new address again, and he will send my money out next week. 

I shot off an email that consisted of my new address, and absolutely nothing more.  No hello, no goodbye, nada.

And for some reason... I feel like absolute hell. 

I dunno.  Maybe it's because I just ate rice (and threw it up).  Maybe it's because I realize he is off somewhere, happy finally, because he's not with me.  Maybe it's because I'm thinking of all the shitty lies he told me when he broke up with me.  I think, somewhere in his twisted brain, he did it for two reasons.  One, because he thought it would be easier for himself.  And two, because he thought I was too fragile to handle the truth and would probably collapse and freak out and kill myself if he just told the truth (which probably ties back to reason #1.  It might be a pain in the ass for him if I had killed myself and named him somewhere in my suicide note.  I swear to God, that probably crossed his mind, the complete prick.)

And, whatever.  He's a shitbag. I gave him more than I've ever given another human being - I gave him different things than I've ever given anyone else.  And I just... I lost them.  They stayed with him, and they are gone now.  I am hollowed out, and there is nothing to fill that void.  It's depressing, mostly because I realize HE can't even fill his own void, so I can't sit around obsessing over getting him back and having a happily ever after.  Because he's not who I thought he was.  I know too much now to ever TRULY want him back.

So I'm empty.

I don't want to exist as I am, and I'm scared I won't ever exist another way.

I need to lose weight.  A bunch of weight.  Nothing good will ever happen in my life, I won't have the confidence to seek anything good, and no one will ever stay with me if I'm not thin.  I don't give a shit how emo or stupid or hyperbolic that sounds.  It's the simple fucking truth.  I am fat - not "Oh, I'm skinny, but I FEEL fat!" or anything.  But I'm ACTUALLY fat.  My BMI and my clothing say so.  And it needs to change. I used to be thin.  I used to be too thin. I mean, I've been called scrawny before. (Not that I believed the person at the time... But still.  I don't hear that shit anymore, and for good reason.)

I want to be like that again.  And then?  I want to be even smaller.

I have nothing else to aim for now.

At least, I have nothing else legal to aim for - I have plenty of homicidal fantasies. :)

To... I Went with "TO"

The timeless question of "to binge or not to binge" has been answered with a resounding "TO BINGE!"

Fuck everything.

I ate six waffles and half a pint of coconut milk ice cream, puked it all back up, and decided I hated myself, and threw away the rest of the food I had purchased.  After I had poured dish soap on it, because you better believe when I'm in binge-mode I am not above pulling food out of the trash.

Then I watched a movie, was startled by my father appearing at my condo unanounced (he's good like that), pleaded with him to take back the check he wrote out to me (he refused, he's also good like that) and then came to work.  I'll be here straight through the night and into tomorrow morning.  At which point I have to visit our main offices and turn in financial paperwork for audit.

Then I have to go home, for like 4 hours, and then... wait for it... go the fuck back to work.

Fuck everything twice.

Tomorrow I'm gonna fast again.  (Companionably!)

And... You know... When I fast, I do have to talk myself down from eating a few times a day.  Mainly when I'm working.  Because when I'm working, I am surrounded by food-obsessed people, and I have to prepare, cut, chop, plate, pack, plan, and otherwise immerse myself in FOOD for them all day long.  

But at the end of those days... After I haven't eaten and everyone else has... 

I go to bed, and I'm pleased. 

I smile, and it feels real.

To Binge or Not to Binge

Well, I "fasted" yesterday.

(I had a strange dream about tourists too, but I imagine that's beside the point.)

I had low-cal crap like Crystal Light and flavored water stuff.  But I also had a glass of unsweetened almond milk, and one of iced tea which was sweetened. That's why I put quotes around fasting. I know it's not really.  But I didn't eat any food, so, yeah. I skipped psyllium husks today too, but if I fast again today, I'll take 'em... 

I might also binge/purge massively today.  Part of me just thinks "Hey, why not?"

It's the first day in AGES I'm by myself for a significant chunk of the day - a solid 7 or 8 hours.  I haven't binged in quite some time.  (I've purged, but only small amounts of food...)

I KNOW I shouldn't.  I know it's terrible for me.  I know it's painful.  I know I won't be able to clear everything from my stomach, no matter how much I purge.  I know I'll end up bloated, with a wildly higher number on the scale tomorrow.  

I know. 

I know.

I know.

I just... I want to. 

I need to conquer the urge.  Because the desire to do it is stronger than the knowledge that I'll regret it tomorrow.

Selfish Love

I'm creaming my pants over Miyavi today.

I do this, off and on, every few months.

I have the strangest taste in men.

And I don't mean that because Miyavi is unattractive or anything - he's stunning.  Just that, if you could see my ex, you'd probably break your brain trying to reconcile how I could date that guy and simultaneously find Miyavi attractive as all get out.

One of the most accurate things ever said about me is that I am a "woman of extremes."

It's very clearly true when it comes to my taste in men.  I like brutal, tough, manly men who ooze testosterone from their thick five o'clock shadows.   (The ex was one of those.  He was Spanish-Italian, a former Marine, rock steady, RAWR! type.)  In that same vein, I can get behind (underneath?) slightly-less-than-brutal types if they are, say, sociopathic serial killers. (SHUT UP DON'T JUDGE ME!)

My heart gets all aflutter at the thought of Dexter (from "Dexter") killin' people...  Seriously, he puts on his "killing clothes" (see below) and I need a cold shower pronto, bitches.

...or Sylar (from "Heroes") being all honey badger about shit. He tried to be a good guy for a while, then was like, "You know what?  Being an awesome murderer is way better.  Screw you guys, I'm going home homicidal." SYLAR DON'T CARE!  And you bet your ass I wanted him to rip my skull open and dig into my gray matter.  *trembles*

I ALSO feel that special tingle for ultra-androgynous men.  Mostly musicians, as it happens.

Like Miyavi. 

(young, girly) Brian Molko. 

(Libertines cover-era) Carl Barât

I dunno, man. I have issues ALL over the place. I can't just pick one thing and go with it.  I have to be DIFFICULT.



Oh, right, food.  I ate some of it today.  And then I threw it back up because, srsly, fuck that.

I give up.  I'm going to just attempt fasting tomorrow, and see if that makes me feel any calmer.  Because this whole "eating stuff even though I don't want to and then puking it up" crap is getting old.


I'mma go take a bunch of psyllium husks and explode my belly while I listen to Kara's Flowers and remember what Maroon 5 sounded like before they were famous. Woo!

Ballz

If I had balls, I'd be sweating them off right this minute.

First time in a while I'm glad I'm sleeping alone - I swear if I had to sleep in a bed with someone else's body heat tonight, I'd harm them in unspeakable ways.

I gained weight, according to the cunty scale lurking in the bathroom.

This may be because I purged what little I ate the past couple days and that makes me retain water, BUT STILL.  That scale needs to be spoken to - it's clearly a douche.

Having my laptop on my actual lap is a bad, bad, BAD idea.  My pretend balls are even sweatier now.

I'm really just... Feeling kinda shittastic.

I'm a chubby, sweaty, fat, ugly, overweight mess. Blaaaaah.


I really want to fast.  I love fasting.  Not a technical fast, since I would be taking in calories in the form of Crystal Light, vinegar, psyllium husks, and broth... But still.  MY version of fasting.  My last real fast was a LONG time ago.  But I love the permanent lump that forms in my throat.  I love how intense my sense of smell gets.  I love the lightheaded, burning, insane passion of fasting.

Maybe I will.

Hrmmm....

Pigface

Let me preface this by listing my intake today...

So, honestly?  Not bad!  Under 400 calories, and 5.5 grams of fat.  I should be pleased.

I mean, I am pleased.  I feel good about WHAT I ate. 

I feel fucking miserable about HOW I ate it.

Breakfast was fine.  I ate my little soy yogurt slowly, indulgently.  I savored the smooth texture and the bright, fresh, clean taste. I was proud of eating breakfast, which is something I have struggled to do. I didn't race to get more food when I was finished with the yogurt.  I didn't feel gross, or guilty, or giant.  I felt... Pretty good, actually.

Lunch, however, was a complete fucking MESS. I decided I wanted something sweet, so I was going to attempt to make little low-calorie popcorn balls.  I popped a 100-calorie bag of 94% FF kettle corn, and I stirred together a two tablespoons each of Walden Farms marshmallow and caramel dips.  I sprinkled in a quarter of a package of FF/SF pudding mix, and started mixing it into the popcorn.  

And... All of a sudden, I just... I inhaled it.  With the spoon I was using to stir, I gobbled it.  Straight out of the mixing bowl, I shoveled it into my mouth.  I felt ILL about 2/3 of the way through, and then I wanted to throw it out.  But I didn't.  I made myself eat it.  

It was pretty much self-torture.

My stomach roiled for the next few hours, too.  The sickly-sweet chemical awfulness of the Walden Farms SHIT (yes, I called it shit, and I will still use it, tyvm, I suck) felt nasty as all hell.

But I got back on my feet, so to speak.

Dinner was simple, calm, matter-of-fact, good.  I enjoyed my small Garden Lites frozen meal at work, at the dinner table with one of my employees and two of the girls we support.  They ate pizza - a food I LOVED to binge on - and I ate my super-healthy, delicious little meal (which, okay, looks a lot more like a side-dish to the people I work with, a-p-p-a-r-e-n-t-l-y.  Hmph.) 

But... I still feel like I was a pig today.  I lost control for a few moments.  I guess not totally - it's not like I ate anything I didn't plan... I ate exactly what I planned. But I didn't eat it like I wanted to.  I ate like a fucking pig.  It was massively disappointing.

I keep picturing a face in my mind.  It's what keeps me going, keeps my hatred surging and my weight shrinking.  

I hate that face.  I will USE it, because of how badly it has used me.

RECIPE: Sweet Roasted Brussels Sprouts

I think these are YUM!  I was never a big Brussels sprouts eater, and always found them kinda gross.  But I was messing around with a couple recipes using them and figured this one.  I am absolutely in LOVE!

(Isn't it weird they are called BrusselS sprouts?  I always thought it was Brussel sprouts. I was wrong!)

Anyway, here's what you are here to see...

Ingredients:

• 16 oz fresh Brussels Sprouts
• 1/4 cup Walden Farms pancake syrup (fat free, sugar free, and "calorie free")
• sea salt and fresh ground pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper
2. Trim off the ends and any loose leaves from the sprouts and then cut them in half lengthwise and put them in a mixing bowl.
3. Toss the sprouts in the syrup and season with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
4. Put them in an even, single layer on the parchment paper and roast in the oven for 15 minutes.  (Save the extra syrup in the bottom of the mixing bowl!)  
5. Remove sprouts remove from oven, drizzle on the extra syrup, and toss them around on the sheet, returning them to a single layer.  Bake for an additional 5-10 minutes, or until lightly browned.

YIELDS TWO SERVINGS

PLEASE NOTE: Nutritional information is for ONE serving. 
And it's based on the 13 oz of usable sprouts I got after trimming!

The One Where I Whine and Give TMI

I'm sweating.

It's 82 degrees in my room right now, and I'm friggin HOT.  Every inch of my skin feels stick and nasty and GROSS. I am disgusted.

I also want to poo and I can't.  Pooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

I've got at least six servings of whole psyllium husks cruisin' around my intestines at the moment.  I took two servings last night, and four tonight, and nothing has come outta my bum.  COME ON, MUCILAGINOUS INDIGESTIBLE FIBER!!!  You can poo do it!

I love psyllium husks.  They taste nasty, have the most disgusting consistency when mixed with water (swallowing them is a gargantuan act of willpower), but they bulk right up in your tummy, are totally indigestible, and keep you intestines working normally even if you're fasting.

Anyway, I damn well better poo tomorrow and then get on the scale and see lower numbers again, kthnx.

I should probably try to sleep, but I've never slept in a sauna before and I don't know if it's going to happen tonight.  I suppose the heat from my laptop isn't helping...

FINE.  I'll turn it off.

G'night to no one...

(Lame, typing that made me sad.)_

Binge-y

I ate nothing until I got home tonight, around 5:30pm.  

Then I ate strawberries and brussels sprouts.  Then my stupid, calorie-deprived body asked for more.  I sat for a moment, thought about it, and then approved, telling myself I really did need to eat more.  So I had 416 calories worth of mini-pita breads, sugar-free jam, and "Better N Peanut Butter."

Now, in reality, my total calories for the day would have been 562.  Which, I realize, most people wouldn't consider epic.  (Actually, most people wouldn't even consider it dinner.)

It was terrible, for me.  Terrible. I wanted to be okay with it, but more than that, I wanted it out of my stomach. I spent about two minutes trying to Keep It Down because I NEED to eat at least 800 calories a day, omg.  Then I went and puked everything up - all strawberry red, brussels sprouts green, and pita/PB brown.  And then I cried about that lapse.  Lovely.

I think now I'm going to take a double dose of psyllium husks (I don't have to be at work until tomorrow afternoon!) and hope they will soak up a few of the remaining calories in my belly, and will clear out my digestive tract. 

The scale was kind this morning.  I hope it's kind again tomorrow.

I just... I don't know.  I need to find some balance.  I came very close to fasting today, and had to force the strawberries on myself.  Then I got hungry, and I ate more.  I don't like that.  I just want to feel empty, not hungry.  

I want to fast. I wish I never had to eat, ever again.

But, shit, I really need to eat. I need a plan.  

Feh.  I'll plan later.  Right now, I'm going to down the psyllium husks and watch a movie. 

Eating R Hardz

I'm thinking I may actually devote an entire post to The Feeder, which may mean shortening my novel from earlier today, and put it into a Feeder post. :)

I talk a lot sometimes.

Okay, ALL the time.

I need to break it up. Woo.

So today, I went with the "just skip dinner altogether" option.  Figures.

That landed me with 196 kcals today (2.5 grams of fat --- 31 grams of carbs, with 13 of that fiber --- 17 grams of protein).

I have this master plan in my head where I'll start doing regular exercise and eat 1,000 - 1,200 calories a day, and be all healthy-ish about slimming down to a very-thin-but-not-sickly weight. And at my body size (I'm a wide-framed 5'11" FML) and the amount of running around I do at work (eeeeerrrrrgggghhhhh, I'm tired!) 1,000 - 1,200 calories plus exercise is still a restricted diet.  I would lose weight, no question.  I would technically probably be starving myself.

I say it.  I think it.  I just can't DO it.  Because even though it would spell success, it would feel too much like failure.

Lame.

So here was today for real:

Fun Fact: even though my eyelids are drooping right this very moment, once I lie down I'm probably going to be up half the night from the amount of diet Pepsi I've consumed today. And I've got a 13-hour shift tomorrow that starts at 8:00am. Everything is just stupid.  Or maybe just I am.

I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, Motherfucker

Oy.

I ate next to nothing yesterday (and the day before), and I puked up what I DID eat... Came home, and forced myself to ingest 2 T of whole psyllium husks with a buttload of water, and went to bed.  Woke up, shit out psyllium husks... And somehow gained 1.6lbs.

ONE POINT SIX FUCKING POUNDS.

I'm trying to convince myself it's because I still have psyllium husks, all bulked up with water, chillin' in my intestines.  It's not working.  It's because I ate that half a sandwich and I DIDN'T PLAN IT.  (Planning sandwiches make them have fewer calories?)

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

I hate everything.  I know I need to eat... Something, sometime.  But I just keep fantasizing about fasting. 

More than anything, I wish I could watch my flesh slide off, famine greasing my bones.

How emo and poetic.

Ergh.

I have to set SOME calorie goal. I just don't want to.  I want "fucking zero" to be my goal.  *sulk*

Okay, shit, here's what I'm going to do.  For today, I am planning out three "meals" and I WILL eat them, goddammit.  I will photograph everything I eat today, and post it here tonight when I get home. Accountability, woo!

So here is the PLAN for today...

Fingers crossed I can stick to it.  It's past 11AM and I'm STILL struggling through the strawberries.  I'd say I'm 2/3 of the way done with the fuckers, and I have to start cooking lunch (and dinner, since I need to bring it with me to work) already.

Oh, and in case you didn't read my dinner entry carefully enough...

***AWESOMENESS NOTE***

Tofu Shirataki Noodles!  

I am trying them for the first time today... But, hot damn, am I excited.  I know if I rinse them well enough and cook them properly, they should taste fine.  (They have an odd, fishy odor from the liquid they are packed in, apparently, and you gotta get rid of it.) 

But, omg, I can look like I'm eating a nice, appropriate portion of pasta for only TWENTY CALORIES!   The entire bag has 40 calories, 6 carbs (4 of which are fiber), and 1 gram of fat.  Hell yes.

In case you can't tell, I'm stoked. I don't care if they are horrid, honestly.  I would rather LOOK like I'm eating normally than FEEL like I'm eating normally anyhow. I'll report back with my findings later this evening.

I'm thinking about upping the psyllium husk intake as well.  The more of that stuff, the better, as far as I'm concerned.

Oh, and now that I'm all... Majorly obsessed and creepy and sick again... I have to admit I wish I had more people reading this.  I'm aware if I actually want that, it will involve is going to other blogs, posting comments, etc.  But I'm kind of lazy, and I have to admit - I haven't read ALL that many blogs of people with eating disorders, but they aren't all that interesting.  I suppose mine isn't either, though.

Ah well. :)



ETA:  Packed up my dinner, all cute... Took pictures, all cute... And carefully forgot it in the fridge when I left for work.  Christ.  So, dinner is going to have to be skipped, re-imagined, or eaten when I get home.  I REALLY don't want to eat it when I get home around 9:30pm, since I think I shouldn't have anything but psyllium husks after 7:00pm every day...  And I don't want to eat something else, unless it's fewer calories... I do want to skip it, though.  Just have some diet Pepsi and call it a night.

Unfortunately, the woman I am working with right now (she's the assistant manager, I am the manager - go me!) is a FEEDER.  She just... She FEEDS people.  She found out I like kale soup once and I swear to God, she had that shit for me in MASSIVE quantities several times a month. She went so far as to prepare two effing pots of it - one with meat and one without - and the second pot was ONLY for me because I'm the vegan... O_O

As an example of how she is even MORE of a feeder... I got myself a bowl of said vegan kale soup (the last of the pot) and left it on the counter for a minute while I got something else ready for one of the diasbled girls we support.  I came back and my bowl was gone.  I asked if anyone had seen it, and The Feeder gasped and said "Oh no, I thought you were in the middle of getting it ready for Eve (one of the girls)!  I finished getting it ready and gave it to her, I'm SO SORRY, ahhhhhhh!"  Like she had just shot my puppy by removing the chance for me to eat.  Like me not eating it was an issue of national security.  The very idea that I had been deprived of something I was planning to eat rocked her to her core.

FEEDER!

ALSO... She had added like 2 cups of meaty soup to my appropriately-sized bowl of vegan soup, and given it to Eve for dinner.  This other girl who was working said to me, "Oh my God, you had, like, a normal amount of soup in there for a meal and she doubled it for Eve!  She is such a FEEDER!"

(We all call her The Feeder.)

Clearly, I'll have to fire her. 

In-N-Out Sandwich

Feh.

So I was all prepared to be FABULOUS today.

I ate 1 cup of watermelon for breakfast.  Then, for some reason, around 2:00pm, I ate half a PB&J.  

Then I had a mental image of someone's face... *grumbles*thatfuckingcunt*grumbles*

And I ran for the bathroom, at work, and puked it all up.

Then I drank some Crystal Light, and thazit for the day.  Woo fucking hoo.  I'm at work for another hour or so, then home, then bed, then scale, then shower, then frantically planning "meals" and calories and foods and pretending I'm going to eat them...  Then back to work.

I'm going to do it this time - I'm going to get the body I want by killing the body I have.

And at some point, before I've gone totally off the deep end, I'm going to hurt people other than myself. Maybe I've already gone off the deep end.  I don't know.  I don't care.  I feel so solidly vapor-like.  It's stunning.

You know, I'm equal parts elated and intrigued.  I've never had THIS good an excuse to emaciate myself before.  I've had all kinds of excuses, but this one takes the cake.  (Food idioms ftw!)

I've gone up and down before - from overweight to underweight and back and forth and back and forth all over again.  The joy of bulimia! But now... BUT NOW...  The urge to binge has left me. I just want to starve myself into a respectable shape, and then into a cheap coffin.  (Actually, I want to be cremated.  Make that a cheap urn.)

--- I'm riding on the burning, crushing pain of h-u-n-g-e-r.  

--- I'm smiling peacefully every time the edges of my vision darken after I stand up too fast.

--- I'm swallowing often, just to feel the choking lump that forms in my throat when I don't eat.

--- I'm pinching myself, I'm envisioning skinny-me, I'm thinking about the old clothes I have stashed away -  sick-body jeans I want to drag up my hips and then shrink my way out of.

The small, quiet, sane part of me is glad I'm still firmly in the overweight category.  It whispers thigns like "Well, maybe it means you'll have time to stop this craziness before you hit a dangerous weight again."

The loud, shaking, crazy part of me is gleefully shouting, "This just means I have a lot longer to hold onto you before anyone thinks you're sick."

When it comes to my life... I've never been this hurt or angry or humiliated.  
But when it comes to starving myself... It's a very different story.

Because then?
Well....

I've never been this driven.

I've never been this hopeful.

I've never been this happy.

I've never been this scared.

Lie, Cheat, Steal

Yeah.  Cute title, no?

I am feeling pretty pathetic today, and I was lied to, cheated on, and stolen from.  It makes sense! SO THERE.

Today, I ate this:

It's...

• 130g strawberries - 42 kcal
• 100g blackberries - 43 kcal

TOTAL: 85 kcal

I know I have to eat more than that, or I'll succumb to binge/purge idiocy.  But today?  It was a bad day.  I found out some things I'm not to happy about.  I MUST be thin.  Immediately.

*squishes up face*

I hate just about everything.

It's 1:00pm and I've eaten nothing and drank one mouthful of water.  It feels excessive.

My fridge is full of healthy fruits and veggies, and nothing bad like bread, and... I just don't want to eat any of it.  

Ever again.

Feh.

Happy July Or Whatever

I've been incredibly busy.  A new girl, named Virginia, is moving into one of the houses I manage.  On Tuesday. I AM UNPREPARED OH HOLY GOD FUUUUUUUUCK.

Plus, I live in a VERY touristy part of the world, so when shit like the Fourth of July happens, nine trillion people flock to my neck of the woods in an effort to have fun, which they apparently can't do wherever they live.  I'm not a genius or anything, but I think maybe they ought to move if they hate it where they live so bad.  It's not MY fault they live somewhere ugly and lame, I don't see why I should be punished for it...

*affixes "If it's tourist season, why can't we shoot the tourists?" bumper sticker to car, smokes a cigarette, loads assault rifle*

Bring it, fuckers.

(Clearly, I've lived in a beautiful place that tourists love for FAR too long.  I am homicidal three months a year, every year.)

The good news is I'm losing weight.  I'm now going to work harder at recording my food and being a non-loser when it comes to puking whenever I get a spare moment.  I'm not eating that much, I really don't need to be throwing up.  Ergh.

I Am Unamused

My roommate is about to take me out to dinner tonight.  She insisted, in a really bossy way, that she HAD to because I watched her cats while she was away on business for three weeks.  

I tried to tell her no. I tried to postpone.  I tried to explain they are cats, not African water buffalo, so it wasn't really much of a challenge.

She failed to see my logic.  I should have shown her pictures of African water buffalo, maybe.

Anyway, prior to knowing she was picking today as THE night to take me out, I ate:

Joseph's "hot dog pita" - 104

2 slices of lightlife faux turkey - 50

1.5 oz roasted red peppper hummus - 76

Pickle slices - 5

Lettuce - 5
Crystal Light - 10

TOTAL: 250

I was feeling good, I was planning another 110 calories at dinner, and then, boom.  She decides we're going out for Indian food tonight.

Upon hearing that, I crammed six light English muffins in my face, complete with fake butter and Vegemite.  

Then I threw it all up, with some of the food from beforehand as well. 

Why?  I don't know.  Because I'm awesome, I suppose.  I imagine tonight I'll be puking up Indian food too.  And we all know how good that hot, spicy mess feels on the way back up. 

I just jumped outta that shower and I'm supposed to be ready to go in nine minutes.

Wish me luck.

*salutes*

Woo to the Hoo

I did okay today!  Fucking finally.

I didn't eat a thing until 6:30pm.  Then I had the following:

• Black beans - 90
• Black Bean Dip - 50
• Sticky Rice - 100
• Mini-bag of Fat Free Kettle Corn - 100
• Crystal Light - 20

TOTAL:  360 kcals

I can handle that.

As bad as it sounds to me, I think I should aim higher than that for calories in a day, though.  I'm so scared of having a binge (and purge) that I think I should be eating a little more.  A lot of fibrous, lean, healthy stuff though.  No smoothies. :)

Tomorrow, I'm going to the grocery store and I'm going to get some cooking done.  I have next to no food at my house and if I don't get something, I will end up eating an entire box of cereal or something shitty like that.  So I'll be incredibly domestic tomorrow.  Sweet. 

Stop. Buying. Me. Smoothies. Dammit.

One of my employees has a penchant for... Well, food. Mmmm, food.  Today she bought me a smoothie.  Which is the second time in three days she has done that.

I want to hit her.  I don't, for three reasons.  One, because I'm her boss and I think smacking your employees is frowned upon in certain circles - namely the circles that sign my paychecks.  Two, I really, really adore her.  And three, she is a heavily tattooed ex-heroin addict who could easily pummel my face into the ground even though I have about eight inches on her. 

(The employee is Zoe, btw.  She's in the post about horseshoe crabs.)

So, today I had a stupid amount of food.  Fuckitall.

• Soy Chai Smoothie - 530
• Zucchini Marinara  - 110
• Broccoli - 60
• Whole Grain Wheat Thins - 140
• Crystal Light - 10

TOTAL: 850 kcals

God damn everything.  God damn that smoothie thing. It was the difference between having 850 kcals today, and having only 320.  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

I got looked at funny while I sat around figuring out the calories in it.  It was a chore, let me tell you.  First of all, she got me a medium, and the store only posts the nutritional information for smalls.  And then, they post the info for using whole or skim milk - not soy.  So I took the difference in calories between whole and skim versions to figure out the quantity of milk in the drink.  Then I adjusted the caloire amounts based on the brand of soymilk they used, calculated that out for a medium drink by scaling up, and to top it off, I didn't drink the final 1.5 ounces of the drink (which, yes, I weighed on a food scale to see how much I was throwing away).  Anyway, it was 530 calories of delicious hell.

Oh, and I almost fainted at work.  Who the fuck almost faints on 850 calories?  Fuck fuck fuck, it's just pathetic.

Tomorrow I have work.  Worky worky work. Friday and Satruday I SHOULD have off, but Saturday might be a bust.  Friday, at least, I'm going to go shopping and cook myself a whole bunch of ED-friendly foodstuffs.

Oh, except my roommate wants to take me out to dinner.  GOD DAMMIT, I had forgotten about that for a minute.

Guppy Brain

Well, I said I had to be held accountable.  So here goes. :)

Today I ate:

• All-natural fruit leather thingy - 45 kcals
• Black beans - 90
• Bell peppers - 15
• Black bean dip - 50
• Sticky rice - 100
• Zucchini marinara frozen meal - 110
• 4 Crystal Light packets in water - 40 kcals

TOTAL: 440 kcals

Not bad. My guppy brain forgot there were calories in Crystal Light, so I drank that shit like it was being taken off the shelves tomorrow for good.  Whoops.  But, honestly, I think I'm okay with that.  It helps me avoid eating, it helps me feel like I've had something sweet, and it alone accounted for two liters of water in my body.  (They tell me drinking water is a good thing...)

I also walked on the beach for a while again, with Zoe and Sophia.  My feet still feel salty.  *wiggles toes*

I haven't told my roommate (Anne, I've known her for 17 years) anything that went on with he-who-shall-not-be-named, and I don't think I will.  Not because I don't trust her, not because I mind her knowing - I don't.  I've already talked Zoe's ear off about it.  

Just because I don't feel like talking about it again, and definitely not tonight.  It's been a not-horrifying day. I've only wanted to slice my fatty flesh off a few dozen times, I've only wanted to crash into telephone poles a handful of times.  But if I have to talk to anyone else about this, and answer questions... I won't sleep.  And I need my sleep.

Rocky Beaches and Horseshoe Crabs

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Piss, Shit, Fuck, Dammit

I've been a fat, pukey cow for ever now.

Don't get me wrong - I've had some really good days in there.  Sticking to my diet (like the day's worth of food, in the last post) and not bingeing. 

But I've been bingeing and purging a LOT too.  It's ridiculously disappointing.  I feel like a sweaty, fat, immobile pig.

Oh, and my computer is a whore with a dead battery.  Eff.

And since it looks like the predictions are wrong and the world is not ending today, I guess I should get my lardass in gear and lose. some. fucking. weight.  

Please enjoy this picture of a pygmy hippo eating some lettuce.  Or, as I like to call it, "Definitive Proof Everything Is Better When It's Much Smaller Than Normal And Also Vegetarian."

My God, that thing is outstanding.
 

It's Been A While, Hey?

Sorry about that.  Life has been lame and busy.

I don't have eons of time at the moment, but I figured I'd post a picture of what I plan to eat tomorrow.  That way, if I don't end up eating it, I'll feel even MORE guilty.  See how that works?  Sorry about the shoddy quality, I wasn't using a real camera.

There you have it - tomorrow's food.  I'm totally out of fresh ingredients, in case you can't tell.  Eeeep, I need to go shopping.  Here are the details:

Breakfast:  Apple-cinnamon oatmeal w/flax seeds, and 1/2 cup of unsweetened vanilla almond milk (in the little purple bottle) - 150 kcals

Lunch: Teriyaki noodle cup - 200 kcals

Snack: 100-calorie bag of popcorn and a packet of freeze-dried apples - 139 kcals

Dinner: Vegan frozen meal - 110 kcals

TOTAL nutritional information for the day will be...

(It's actually technically 599 calories, which I was slightly happier with.  But for some reason, this particular nutritional label creator likes to round up so it's saying 600. It's clearly an asshole.)

Holy Hell

 ... I can't even begin to describe the clustercuck that is my job right now.  I'll put in about 60 hours this week, easy.  I held one of the clients in a physical restraint for HOURS yesterday (incidentally, that was my day "off").  She's currently in restraints now after kicking and biting other staff.  And that's the easy part.  The hard part is the official state investigations into alleged abuse by two of the staff who have worked at the house.

Shoot me.  Shoot me in the face.

The REALLY hard part (ha) is that I have literally been unable to maintain the ability to count the calories that go into my mouth.  I am physically not capable of being bitten, kicked, slapped, and punched WHILE holding a full-grown woman who has no concept of self-preservation in a physical restraint without eating.  So I've been eating, and occasionally puking.  (Don't tell anyone I said this, but hot damn do I wish mechanical restraints were legal in the residential setting.  Physically holding someone who is very combative is HARD work, yo.)

But I guess it's hard enough work that I'm burning off the calories that do end up staying in my stomach, because the scale has been rewarding me. Not in leaps and bounds, but in decent enough increments (a few tenths of a pound a day) that I'm not completely freaking out... yet.

I imagine some people might consider eating vegetable soup with saltines and then going outside and puking it up in the woods "completely freaking out," but of course it's not.  It's entirely rational and not disordered whatsoever.

Speaking of being not disordered whatsoever...

Today I was standing in a drugstore attempting to rectify a payment issue for one of the clients, and it was taking ages.  The woman behind the pharmacy counter told me I could have a seat and wait until she called me.  Teh interwebz tell me that standing burns more calories than sitting, so I chose to stand.  After ten or fifteen minutes, I was completely zoned out, standing utterly motionless at the very end of an isle, right near the pharmacy.  One hand on my hip, the other hand behind me with my thumb tucked into my back pocket.  I was slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, I'm sure.  An elderly woman walked up the isle and didn't notice me until she was fairly close.  She jumped a little and said, "You look like a model, just standing there!"

Instantly, I felt very, very, VERY fat.

Because that's normal.

P.S. - While typing this, I got a call from the executive director of my company, as well as my program director being all OMG CAN YOU FILE REPORTS RIGHT THIS MINUTE SO WE CAN PROMPTLY IGNORE THEM UNTIL MONDAY?!!?  Fine.  Yes.  I can.  Dipshits. So I'm heading back into work shortly to file restraint reports.

FML.  F all our Ls.

An Apple a Day... Apparently Doesn't Do Shit

For background: I work for a company that provides in-home care for people with disabilities.  The house I work in has three residents and ten staff. We staff 24/7 at a 1:1 ratio. I'm the Program Manager, which just means I'm the boss in the one house.

So, today I worked 3pm-9pm, and by 5pm I was sitting pretty at 165 kcals.  I'd eaten cereal with unsweetened almond milk (150 kcals) and pickles (15 kcals... Well, okay, the jar said 0 kcals but it was clearly lying to me, so I'm estimating 15 kcals).

A member of the nursing team for the house (the highest-up one) was doing a site visit and I was talking to him about our medication delivery that had just come in.  I was crouched down, loading bottles of meds into the bottom of our med cabinet and I stood up too fast.  My vision went black around the edges and my knees got weak.  Instinctively, I grabbed the top of the cabinet to keep myself upright.

Being a nurse, he noticed and surmised the cause.

Goddammit.

He told me to sit down. --- I did need to sit down, so I did.

He told me to eat something.  --- I blanched and agreed with a smile and a laugh.

But I didn't make any moves to get any food.  I was hoping he'd forget.  Being a GOOD nurse, he didn't.  And two minutes later, he said, "Chloe, get something to eat now.  Before you pass out. You won't be any help to anyone if you're on the floor."

Great.  Just great.  Guilt trips suck.

So I heated up a container of veggie soup, and ate it in front of him.  I felt like a fucking child.  A guilty, irritated, embarrassed child.

By the way... I blame this on being tall.  I have decided if I were short (I'm not; I'm 5'11"), blood would make it to my brain fast enough that I wouldn't be at risk for passing out so easily when I'm not eating much.  Yup, that's right.  It's not the food intake, it's my height.  SEE HOW THAT WORKS, DAMMIT?

In any case, I then came home shortly past 9pm, and watched a DVR'd episode of Iron Chef while swallowing the massive amounts of saliva my mouth was producing.  God, I'm hungry.  

Also, I have decided I have a crush on one of the Iron Chefs.  Michael Symon does it for me, in a really odd way.  He's this kinda goofy, 41-year-old bald dude who is positively in love with foods I despise, like offal.  In fact, he loves offal so much, he wears t-shirts that just say "offal" on them.  Like so:

Offal, in case you were wondering, is "a culinary term used to refer to the entrails and internal organs of a butchered animal."  Yeah.  Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah. 

So I'm an eating disordered vegan with a quasi-crush on a professional chef who gets jazzed when he thinks about cooking entrails. Match made in hell, I assure you.  

(I'd still do him.  Just sayin'.)

Uh, so, where was I?  Food today.  Bring on The List!

• High fiber cereal - 130
• Unsweetened almond milk - 20
• Pickles - 15
• Vegetable soup - 145

Intake: 310 kcals

(The scale better not have shit to say about that tomorrow or I'll kick the thing until it begs for mercy. Which it will not get, 'cause I'm a bad ass motherfucka, ya hear?  *throws gang symbols*)

Pop Goes the Weasel

Another long day, work, idiocy at work, blah blah blah.

Today would have been an even 900 kcals.  (Which I blame on the 420 fucking calories of vanilla and pomegranate cashews I ate.  Fuck those things, seriously. Minus those two packets of nuts?  I'd have been at a respectable 480 kcals for the day.  I could have been proud of that, happy with that... But noooooooo.  I just HAD to eat the fucking cashews.)  

In any case, I would have been at 900 kcals...But then I was overwhelmed by how that was TOO MUCH FOOD OMG, and decided puking was the better option.

I'm not proud of that. I didn't want to resort to throwing up.  I just... I need to be more careful.  I need to be more realistic.  Under a 1,000 calories is still a caloric deficit, I should still lose weight, and there was no need to go and puke.

Are you convinced yet?  Yeah, neither am I.  It was way too much food... "Realistic" can suck my dick, I want to delete myself.

Feh, meh, bah, etc.

I didn't have time to post yesterday.

Sunday's intake was 661 kcals.  Not hideous, compared with the day before.  But when I got on the scale this morning, I found I was down a whopping tenth of a pound from when I weighed in on Friday morning.  *grumbles*

I suppose it's better than being UP, but still.  I was fucking disappointed.

I'm planning a few recipe posts in the next couple days...  Be excited!  (Jesus, not that excited.  Calm down.  Put your pants back on, weirdo.)

So far today, I'm at 290 kcals.  I'm going to attempt to eat one of my patented Normal Looking Meals so my roommate won't notice I've gone off the deep end started restricting again.  I just have to figure out what it's going to be... It will most likely involve onions and kale, all fancied up so they look like a planned, balanced, and normal meal.

I'm a big fan of my Normal Looking Meals that are really low-calorie and part of a larger plan to eliminate my fat ass.  Part of this battle is convincing people I'm losing weight in a healthy way.  Then they won't bother me until I start getting really tiny. (Please, please, please get really tiny. That would rock.)

Or when they start noticing I'm weighing onions so I know the exact caloric value of them. 

Whatever.