I am having a very weird day. I have been having a lot of medical issues lately, probably some psychomatic stuff. In layman's terms, it's probably all in my head. I haven't been able to eat a lot over the past couple of days and it's very strange. I always want to eat more, more, more, and my appetite is gone, along with half my mind. I have never felt this way before in my life. I realize it's actually possible that I could get too thin. I have actually been kind of forcing myself to eat in the past couple of days, and it's not good. I work out A LOT, and usually I subtly overeat. I'm pretty elastic with my calorie counting, I will be the first to admit. I'm very good with my exercise logging. I never log exercise until I've actually done it. I don't know how to relax my rigid self discipline. I've never thought of myself as a self-disciplined person before, but I realize I am now obsessed with diet and exercise and it's a weight I'd like off of my shoulders and I don't know if I can get it off of my shoulders. I want to log things because it helps me. I know it helps me, with the carb counts for the diabetes, and generally keeping track of how much I've eaten. Usually that gets away from me. The way I feel the past couple of days, it's difficult for me to remember what I've eaten, and usually that is not a problem. I don't feel scared, but challenged by my own rigidity. I don't know if that makes sense.
I also realize I am very critical of other women. (Sorry guys, if there are actually men that read me rant and rave on this). I don't mean to be, but it was taught to me from childhood. I am very critical of other women's personalities and of course, the way they look. I know this is odd, but I used to be a fashion designer in another life. I did it for 9 years. I worked in New York City. I worked for some amazing companies, which I will not list here. I can't believe I did it for over a decade and I am sane at all. Because it taught me to hate myself, and it reinforced that hate every day, in subtle ways. I used to live in East Harlem, because I couldn't afford a "better" apartment. Every day when I left my apartment, I was sexually harrassed, for lack of a better word. I know the men in that neighborhood didn't mean it, but it felt terrible. They would yell at me in the street, calling me "Mami" and making sucking noises, telling me "beautiful, beautiful" in their Dominican and Puerto Rican accents. It was like a psychological minefield, just getting from my front door to the subway just to go to work. However, when I did get to the subway, I went downtown to go to work. If anyone has ever been to New York, you know if you've ever taken the subway, it can take you between worlds in an instant. When I would get off the train to go to work, or go downtown where I loved it the most, I would climb up those steps and my world would be bleak. I was the fattest bitch walking down 7th Avenue. I was the chubbiest girl in Soho. No men ever told me I was beautiful, whether I wanted them to or not. At work, all the women of all sizes that worked for these fashion companies, they were all starving. Everyone was on a diet, from the models to the designers to the receptionists. No one that worked for these companies thought they were pretty, or beautiful. It was such a competition, and we all lost. All of us were starving, and jealous of everyone else because we thought the other woman had it easier and could actually manage the starvation. And the women we were most jealous of, the models, starved the most. Sometimes they starved so much, they would actually do heroin in the bathroom. Working in this environment, it really was soul crushing. It killed beauty and guarded the dead body jealously. It killed beauty because we, as women, were not encouraged to share. I think going through that for almost a decade made me so hypercritical of other women and their bodies. So if I have offended anyone with my angry journals, I am apologizing. Tonight I saw a woman at the gym I was jealous of. Not because she was pretty, or blonde, or her body was like a finely tuned machine. No, I was jealous of her because I walked by her treadmill and I saw she was running at 6.7 miles an hour. At this point, I can only run at 4.0. I wanted to be like her, and for what she was doing, not for the way she looked.
View Diet Calendar, 29 October 2012:
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1132 kcal
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Fat: 63.00g | Prot: 44.14g | Carbs: 116.85g.
Breakfast: Oscar Meyer turkey bacon, Hunts Chocolate sugar free pudding cup, Sabra hummus, baby carrots. Lunch: feta cheese, balsamic vinaigrette, romaine lettuce, cucumber, black olives, tomato, broccoli, croutons, chicken. Dinner: red delicious apples, Blue Bell no sugar added dutch chocolate ice cream. Snacks/Other: Atkins endulge nutty fudge brownie. more...
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3034 kcal
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Exercise:
Running (jogging) - 8/kph - 49 minutes, Walking (slow) - 3/kph - 5 minutes, Exercise machine (fast) - 28 minutes, Housework - 30 minutes, Shopping - 1 hour and 30 minutes, Sleeping - 8 hours, Resting - 9 hours and 38 minutes, Driving - 3 hours. more...
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