"You look a little thick, that's something a cocaine diet can fix."
Sick thoughts never leave. They may not come as often now, but they'd always be there. Today they arrived in full force, actually sounding like a good idea. The most rational thought I've had all day. Too bad that's not allowed. I'm annoyed. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't use and at that moment I wish I hadn't; I wish I could still do a coke binge and drop a couple of pounds. I can justify it as not using, it's strictly a diet aid. I promised I wouldn't. I feel so ungrateful for this body. When did I begin this sick game with myself? When did I stop loving what I look like and begin the weight obsession Nothing fits "fat" correctly, which is the price to be paid for such shameful and unhealthy behavior. I'm down a lot, down more than I have ever been down, doing it the right way.
Doing it right with hard work and doing it wrong the easy way have the same results. I'm just enabling my laziness "Big and Beautiful" is everyone but me as far as the self confidence, the love of one's self. Oh how I'd be happy if I could love who I've become and be proud of the fat that I shed. Weight is a number, a size, a lifestyle. A being that is ok for you but not me. Why is every mirror in my house a fun-house mirror? Why can't I see what you see?