tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9355959107053545932024-03-04T20:27:18.394-08:00"Life itself is the proper binge." - Julia ChildChronicles of a mothers journey to recover from bulimia, over eating, and self destructive behavior.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-41946220510377541212010-05-19T05:20:00.001-07:002010-05-19T06:03:40.660-07:00Long time no seeSo, I know I haven't posted in a while and it is because I wasn't sure what to say. I am not officially on my summer vacation from college and for the last week and a half I have done nothing! My ED has spiked in activity. I am pretty sure it is due to not having any goals/stimulation in my mind. The past week and a half has also been filled with a lot of drinking; although I am proud to say there has been none since Sunday night and it is nice to wake in the morning and feel good.<br /><br />I am also proud to say that in the past two days I have managed to keep three meals down! That is a HUGE step for me. I have also done my yoga DVD once and I am planning to attempt it today along with some reading and some yard work.<br /><br />Last night I started a new routine for when I am feeling restless while I try and quit drinking; Hot tea + reading = sleepy Andromeda. The past two nights I have laid in bed and drank some hot tea and I think it is helping me to go to sleep.<br /><br />This morning, I woke at 6am; on my own! This NEVER happens, LOL. I was able to wake up and drink a nice hot cup of Joe, gather my thoughts and decide how to tackle my day. I realized these three famous quotes this morning and decided that this is how I am going to start viewing things:<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><strong></strong><strong style="font-weight: bold;">"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."</strong><span style="font-weight: bold;"> - </span><em style="font-weight: bold;">Gandhi</em> <em style="font-weight: bold;"></em></div><p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><strong>"You can't avoid change, it's mandatory, progress however is optional."</strong> - <em>Bill R. Good Jr.</em></p><div style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"><em><span>"Change creates Change" </span>Unknown</em></div><p style="text-align: left;"><em><span style="font-family:verdana;">The last of the three quotes really clicked in my mind: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Change creates Change</span>. I realized that my actions were creating this bubble of everything staying the same; I was always waking up to the kids getting into stuff and this put me in a bad mood. This creating a situation where binging would occur to help me feel better. So my first step to my recovery: Waking up on my own. Already I am in a bet<em></em>ter mood, thinking positive about my day and making plans to help me with tough situations. I know known that in order for me to start my recovery I need to start changing the way I function on a daily bases and too start thinking in a positive manner. </span></em></p><p style="text-align: left;">It is amazing what a little positive thinking can do. I m<em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></em>ake excuses daily to hide behind this ED. I don't want to play victim anymore. I want attention to be on me because I am doing positive things with my life and not because I am slowly killing myself and my family.<br /></p><p style="text-align: left;">Let me pause for a second and really absorb those last five words: KILLING MYSELF AND <span style="font-weight: bold;">MY FAMILY!</span> Too often I think that my Eating Disorde<em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></em>r is my own and that it isn't anyone elses'. When in fact I have put this eating disorder on anyone that I have ever known. I am constantly not myself around friends, my family suffer from seeing my pain and how closed off I have become. I am no longer a person that people see and don't pitty. I am someone people see and they are unsure of because clearly I am un-stble, un-trustworthy and scary. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I will be the first to admit that I am not someone people gravitate towards. My personality is of the eccentric variety. There is a small handful of people who understand me but most tolerate me. I scare off my neighbors because I am too kind and scare off ones who are also insecure and accuse me of wanting to sleep with their spouses. I guess what I am trying to say is with a personality like mine, life can be lonely. I had a few close friends but have lost them over the past 4 years because I am no longer the same person.<em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></em></p><p style="text-align: left;">I guess what I am getting it is that I want to be me again. I no longer like this depression, this self loathing. So to help me fix it, I am creating ripples in the ocean of my life. Yes, a giant tide might come and knock me down but one must continue to press forward in order to create the positive change.</p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Positive Affirmation of the day:<br /><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);">I am in control of my</span><em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em></em></span></em><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"> thoughts and feelings. </span> </blockquote><span><span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9GyJHkBR59g98WhbMzUwIPyDAq3m-YdKx0YKDm6dGoNr54fY1WNmI4s1Pba01FYu61onvxTVjBfs_FEICAnxugmtzj5FBjl1iD8bikvNdaLUqK8Dj-7AAQM6ZUrGkx92EgEoGVB-uupp/s1600/DSC00147.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin9GyJHkBR59g98WhbMzUwIPyDAq3m-YdKx0YKDm6dGoNr54fY1WNmI4s1Pba01FYu61onvxTVjBfs_FEICAnxugmtzj5FBjl1iD8bikvNdaLUqK8Dj-7AAQM6ZUrGkx92EgEoGVB-uupp/s320/DSC00147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472965854115843138" border="0" /></a></span></em></span></em></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><br /><em><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></em></p><em><span style="font-family:arial;"></span></em><em></em>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-61788919528611385932010-04-13T10:09:00.000-07:002010-04-13T10:46:56.124-07:00How to move on<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOy-2Ug-Y4WtQFffR9pjw1p80UexVXWRBW7Sm-OlcWa5sV3eo5rSREhT8dVOgVpmCLCVLDrYBTNZHFClZQWdmghKPXN0RuhElWn9gfjb_6KtdOrHCuhDs2yzz7a2TXUxitVGsbUBOlinq/s1600/HPIM1046.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 190px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVOy-2Ug-Y4WtQFffR9pjw1p80UexVXWRBW7Sm-OlcWa5sV3eo5rSREhT8dVOgVpmCLCVLDrYBTNZHFClZQWdmghKPXN0RuhElWn9gfjb_6KtdOrHCuhDs2yzz7a2TXUxitVGsbUBOlinq/s320/HPIM1046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459679880100485954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The crying has lessened but really feel that all this is just too much to bear. I am completely on edge and strugeling to maintain for the sake of my children. Besides my close family, not many people know about my struggles with my bulimia. I so desperately want to be over this. I do OK until I weigh myself and I say uh oh, no way I weigh that fucking much.<br /><br />Dannah is someone I met a few years ago. I was inspired by her. We had both decided we were going to help each other. I was going to join her softball team with her. She touched my heart in many many ways. Her loss to everyone hurts my heart so much. Those of us close to her believe she committed suicide. In a way, this makes it worse then if someone had taken her life or if it were an accident. Knowing that she could no longer live with her hurt and grief scares me. Many Many times I feel like I am out of control. That in a second of lapsed judgment it could have been me that jumped. Dannah had struggles recently with depression. The medication she was taking was making it worse. After several incidents of her having break downs, attacking her husband and taking off I would think they would prescribe her different meds. But no, they didn't. Then they took her camping, got shit faced, wtf is up with that. This is behavior uncommon to her demeanor.<br /><br />On top of it all, the night I found out about Dannah my spouse got arrested for a DUI and is now close to losing his job. I don't know how much I can handle. I want to sleep all day. I haven't had a drink in two days and I am starting to feel the itch.<br /><br />School work is becom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhld0y3oxVrngXVzk9OYcbAvtkP4zxGazK4HncnD3wYd5zgZTch8uu-fUWWIHN1aqz-puPPvS04IzVXZEt32BvAlobJG7AraryuQqraq4jkSXdmrbRG3v5N2d4aNtOT1d2odwsdhA3YKb8Z/s1600/HPIM1048.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhld0y3oxVrngXVzk9OYcbAvtkP4zxGazK4HncnD3wYd5zgZTch8uu-fUWWIHN1aqz-puPPvS04IzVXZEt32BvAlobJG7AraryuQqraq4jkSXdmrbRG3v5N2d4aNtOT1d2odwsdhA3YKb8Z/s320/HPIM1048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459679671259229298" border="0" /></a>ing overwhelming. Sigh..<br /><br /><a href="http://www.nbc11news.com/localnews/headlines/90709964.html">Heres the link to the story on dannah</a><br /><br />heres some pics of me with Dannah and some friends. Didn't want to put them on Facebook, but want to share them with someone.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-81670509607246916712010-04-10T07:18:00.000-07:002010-04-10T07:30:55.915-07:00GriefMy heart is filled with such sadness. I can picture them finding your body at the bottom of the cliff and wondering was it suicide or did something else happen? I wish there was a way to comfort my other friends who are dealing with your loss but since you were closer to them I feel ashamed I feel such a loss. You and I were recently had a new friendship but we shared very intimate things about one another, one of them our depression and eating disorder. You heart was kind and mine was not at times.<br /><br />I remember the next day feeling like I over talked to you about your situation and I feel ashamed. I apologized the next day and you were very understand and comforting in telling me it was all really ok and not to worry my head with such thoughts. Thank you. I am upset that my other friend wasn't honest with me about what you were going through but I guess they felt that since we weren't best friends I didn't deserve to know. Maybe I could have helped you some how.<br /><br />When I pause to think about the fact that your lungs will never again fill with air, that no one will ever see your smile and that you will never again see the sunrise when out camping; my eyes fill with tears knowing that it could have been me that felt as you did. We carry a lot of similarities and knowing that u have ended your life because of them scares me that I too might be capable of such an act. We're not 100% on the suicide, or was it foul play?<br /><br />I still feel really guilty that my heart hurts so bad.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-44341716466812927812010-04-02T08:17:00.000-07:002010-04-02T08:21:48.534-07:00SeasonsWhen I feel bad about my weight and I am obsessing I get really depressed and I normally quit blogging. I haven't been following anyone's either, so for that my friends, I am sorry.<br /><br />I am really working on trying not to obsess about the 12 lbs I have put on, or the fact that none of my clothes from last summer fit. I feel like a fat cow. I haven't worked out in 2 months and have lost all my muscle deffination so I now look like a flabby blob. I want to be tones and fit, but I don't want to put the effort into it. I have been conditioned from an early age to be lazy. I spent most my time as a child on my ass, watching cartoons and playing video games.<br /><br />Anyone else have issues motivating them selves to be more active, if not for you but also with you kids? I realize that I am conditioning my children for the same down fall I have. I fall short in being active with them. My depression makes me tired and causes me to choose to avoid leaving the house as much as possible.<br /><br />Any tips for a desperate woman?Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-7923831941784415502010-03-06T12:33:00.001-08:002010-03-06T12:33:36.335-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2m6HsloynGYUsPs44W4ZUY5c4p0JixsgnEVPK2K6IyIXDqvep_990nA1oPIsFM4FSuZ8LmZbA6YBtvfqZNR8A1FhMxXzEkGWLx7yG_K33PApfLSg87wu9zj8DejIRW_WCTsYEw0E-OC2_/s1600-h/IMAG0163-716336.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2m6HsloynGYUsPs44W4ZUY5c4p0JixsgnEVPK2K6IyIXDqvep_990nA1oPIsFM4FSuZ8LmZbA6YBtvfqZNR8A1FhMxXzEkGWLx7yG_K33PApfLSg87wu9zj8DejIRW_WCTsYEw0E-OC2_/s320/IMAG0163-716336.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445621749021622050" /></a></p>My lovey <p>This message has been sent using the picture and Video service from Verizon Wireless!<p>To learn how you can snap pictures and capture videos with your wireless phone visit <a href="http://www.verizonwireless.com/picture">www.verizonwireless.com/picture</a>.<p>Note: To play video messages sent to email, Quicktime@ 6.5 or higher is required.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-4911419202034107872010-02-27T10:02:00.001-08:002010-02-27T10:02:31.050-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbrV4DFmDzTvXnkqTdQxJUDlreAzEdt-7UtTWJvSPFTPdj4_39JPvmV6BvJEW1Uy7aeVBv9WIBDRNkeMtm9g9iDk40LTlldMYSYdRTqFfiMRPD6Acuzijg6qrEq3ZDCRA0lFRoyErJISq/s1600-h/IMAG0136-751051.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrbrV4DFmDzTvXnkqTdQxJUDlreAzEdt-7UtTWJvSPFTPdj4_39JPvmV6BvJEW1Uy7aeVBv9WIBDRNkeMtm9g9iDk40LTlldMYSYdRTqFfiMRPD6Acuzijg6qrEq3ZDCRA0lFRoyErJISq/s320/IMAG0136-751051.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442985217527289410" /></a></p>Were having mom and son morning. Love this lil man <p>This message has been sent using the picture and Video service from Verizon Wireless!<p>To learn how you can snap pictures and capture videos with your wireless phone visit <a href="http://www.verizonwireless.com/picture">www.verizonwireless.com/picture</a>.<p>Note: To play video messages sent to email, Quicktime@ 6.5 or higher is required.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-53302299633570527382010-02-27T09:00:00.001-08:002010-02-27T09:00:17.924-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYhQaUJ9rnV288Sqf28PlvoQ-sCgbMRO7yuEApjEPCqu1ryKXA0ncIsqMFKO8_lP_u4DkR0VIxqRCcgr4LTAOvDCcAFRQpRbBiqHyIEHUrHLP-y2IN7YtvHIypuYrb3VAnr_grnE6DlCYE/s1600-h/IMAG0135-717925.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYhQaUJ9rnV288Sqf28PlvoQ-sCgbMRO7yuEApjEPCqu1ryKXA0ncIsqMFKO8_lP_u4DkR0VIxqRCcgr4LTAOvDCcAFRQpRbBiqHyIEHUrHLP-y2IN7YtvHIypuYrb3VAnr_grnE6DlCYE/s320/IMAG0135-717925.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442969178169143602" /></a></p>Making my famous breakfast skillet Yummy!Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-86458998250567422442010-02-26T13:28:00.001-08:002010-02-26T13:28:44.757-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJD5jrXhPaqj44KOFg84QSPh19mjM6JcTzilpFYncKP1o0-fmlvYLMQZZ473yqeF5dFnWlhk3YepiXAM7_Aef4THy1m5q6lIXerXooXkCJTjF4BiGM9uPdIx8lCA8m0CDrH6nU9oAHJSrL/s1600-h/IMAG0131-724758.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJD5jrXhPaqj44KOFg84QSPh19mjM6JcTzilpFYncKP1o0-fmlvYLMQZZ473yqeF5dFnWlhk3YepiXAM7_Aef4THy1m5q6lIXerXooXkCJTjF4BiGM9uPdIx8lCA8m0CDrH6nU9oAHJSrL/s320/IMAG0131-724758.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442667271730074562" /></a></p>Nap timeLost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-65550460635434422972010-02-22T15:56:00.001-08:002010-02-22T15:56:01.437-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CxvNKtVOlXQfHkbL7l_fP8uBTbT3tZfdvvG6Fl0wxa7QN7Fjl1q5bs6KjTys2Et8X5Eu1z5lyFrvUn1104k17DEUUu_cpsSpJ92yN0EfK4vUNLSJj1eFOBpwQ77_jEbyWshbTc-MYnxf/s1600-h/IMAG0119-761438.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CxvNKtVOlXQfHkbL7l_fP8uBTbT3tZfdvvG6Fl0wxa7QN7Fjl1q5bs6KjTys2Et8X5Eu1z5lyFrvUn1104k17DEUUu_cpsSpJ92yN0EfK4vUNLSJj1eFOBpwQ77_jEbyWshbTc-MYnxf/s320/IMAG0119-761438.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441220886577999954" /></a></p>Bowen wearing stunna shadesLost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-51108200940831897892010-02-19T14:22:00.000-08:002010-02-19T14:27:01.111-08:00Take two<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_41OeIQnGMAiw51XgWH2x7J_e1_Bv3BUkH06OL53C76DRj6YqwgvG_VUcpD0oGGf7uugCj9EDX9vN6qURlTcJf2s2YXwj7TXRrTrITgRawIZpY2Ow_VbBFbWguHGPm_XuZECdYf1-Om4F/s1600-h/Snapshot_20100219.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440084013967965090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_41OeIQnGMAiw51XgWH2x7J_e1_Bv3BUkH06OL53C76DRj6YqwgvG_VUcpD0oGGf7uugCj9EDX9vN6qURlTcJf2s2YXwj7TXRrTrITgRawIZpY2Ow_VbBFbWguHGPm_XuZECdYf1-Om4F/s320/Snapshot_20100219.jpg" /></a><br /><div>So <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">here's</span> a test picture with my new laptop for school! I am super stoked but feel just like I look in this picture. I am tired, have been for days. I have a paper I need to write that I am completely confused on and lack motivation.</div><div> </div><div>This picture of me also shows how I feel in my mind, two people, connected. </div><div> </div><div>Anyway, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">don't</span> taking a break. Would <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">write</span> more but I don't need anymore reason to not do my school work. </div>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-21419503722454902822010-02-18T09:17:00.001-08:002010-02-18T09:17:50.002-08:00Awesome top<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fcxoSv2JvJsEAYwA7PPo-BHnCrGYkooedDu7QEZP2hHu3GSFwLbazQBrQy5imvQP_1rxMForRDywkNgIuAp2_Nn0reCPcHIikWicOH570nuARxY8dVtaFWq03Dv9KECaTsg4EXKMX-Yu/s1600-h/IMAG0108-770003.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fcxoSv2JvJsEAYwA7PPo-BHnCrGYkooedDu7QEZP2hHu3GSFwLbazQBrQy5imvQP_1rxMForRDywkNgIuAp2_Nn0reCPcHIikWicOH570nuARxY8dVtaFWq03Dv9KECaTsg4EXKMX-Yu/s320/IMAG0108-770003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439633934583088930" /></a></p>Love my workout top!Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-58699001251922858742010-02-17T14:31:00.001-08:002010-02-17T14:31:12.778-08:00Sleeping beauty<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehA-UFiqUlbudpqCDMma2mqi3egzIwUNQ19Dwb4DCc9xhF9nwjpGFC-Vqpk9xWNOLL2c9fp88Fy5JzAud8JP1kuf8sLhruTS-q_piRXEEY9RIvdqBHOUdprrNS8T4u_-LuhwtzD7nvvLr/s1600-h/IMAG0105-772779.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehA-UFiqUlbudpqCDMma2mqi3egzIwUNQ19Dwb4DCc9xhF9nwjpGFC-Vqpk9xWNOLL2c9fp88Fy5JzAud8JP1kuf8sLhruTS-q_piRXEEY9RIvdqBHOUdprrNS8T4u_-LuhwtzD7nvvLr/s320/IMAG0105-772779.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439343602420830722" /></a></p>I wish I was this beautiful when I sleep. Priceless!<p>This message has been sent using the picture and Video service from Verizon Wireless!<p>To learn how you can snap pictures and capture videos with your wireless phone visit <a href="http://www.verizonwireless.com/picture">www.verizonwireless.com/picture</a>.<p>Note: To play video messages sent to email, Quicktime@ 6.5 or higher is required.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-48799647652170405952010-02-17T09:31:00.001-08:002010-02-17T09:31:20.992-08:00Flowers<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdb4dQqL_fR0AcB2jvupF_njEmIoZf96N8gICih_ZaI_nQT_seSyUkC4SbOKCs2oec-2tfMZo-hVfrkSeLKZJuMBCBDK0Fvm49PnFFgFlarqPrFvNHIpvlo20X9zYFhf4eNgTJbykehNga/s1600-h/IMAG0104-780992.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdb4dQqL_fR0AcB2jvupF_njEmIoZf96N8gICih_ZaI_nQT_seSyUkC4SbOKCs2oec-2tfMZo-hVfrkSeLKZJuMBCBDK0Fvm49PnFFgFlarqPrFvNHIpvlo20X9zYFhf4eNgTJbykehNga/s320/IMAG0104-780992.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439266332199537058" /></a></p>My beautiful table centerpiece I put together <p>This message has been sent using the picture and Video service from Verizon Wireless!<p>To learn how you can snap pictures and capture videos with your wireless phone visit <a href="http://www.verizonwireless.com/picture">www.verizonwireless.com/picture</a>.<p>Note: To play video messages sent to email, Quicktime@ 6.5 or higher is required.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-46394642741866724482010-02-17T09:00:00.001-08:002010-02-17T09:20:58.774-08:00Been MIA<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3234/2976394096_097d71dcf6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3234/2976394096_097d71dcf6.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>So, I realize I have been MIA for a while and I think it is because I realized I was spending WAY too much time on here and neglecting other things that needed to get done.<br />It could also be due to the fact that we got a new tv/blue-ray and I am obsessed with sitting in front of it and doing nothing.<br />So, I went for a run yesterday. 3miles in 28min. Then came home and did 3 sets of push ups and sit ups with my kiddos. It was nice. I miss running outside and miss the passion I had for it. When other cardio on a machine I feel like I never really get a sense of accomplishment, but when I am out side, on the pavement, feeling the sole of my show hit and the force gos through my body, it is amazing. Going farther then I have or even taking a rout over the big overpass gives me a feeling of self worth that just makes me smile from ear to ear.<br /><br />So I have been cooking a lot of different meals lately. Last night I clow cooked some country style ribs with potatoes,celery and carrots. Put some bbq sauce in it with 1can of chicken stock and some seasonings. it was awesome. I served it all over rice cause I shredded the pork when it was done.<br />Tonight: Stuffed red bell peppers with couscous instead of rice. :D We'll see how that goes.<br /><br />Think I am going to be going on the hunt for a nice pair of running shoes, any suggestions?<br /><br />Here's a little picture of where I live. If I could look at this everyday and the weather be like this everyday, i'd be a running fool!Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-33749586337549259732010-02-16T13:36:00.001-08:002010-02-16T13:36:53.193-08:00How now Brown Cow<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZut39LkGXZ4vlxzzibAmzq8A6X0BIzCxIQe_iEnF_7DT1GRYzFsr6zbBrJ2y2WeEtTX1OGZqQr-eSqhENyU6wieRqMZPcx-UPAVXZpSyE1V8-Vz7AAsdaHSWe7znSjUPUeQa_kgNDa9L/s1600-h/IMAG0096-713193.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZut39LkGXZ4vlxzzibAmzq8A6X0BIzCxIQe_iEnF_7DT1GRYzFsr6zbBrJ2y2WeEtTX1OGZqQr-eSqhENyU6wieRqMZPcx-UPAVXZpSyE1V8-Vz7AAsdaHSWe7znSjUPUeQa_kgNDa9L/s320/IMAG0096-713193.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438958524090293506" /></a></p>So happy I found these at sams club!Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-82868313982277582872010-02-16T11:21:00.001-08:002010-02-16T11:21:37.484-08:00Crazy<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEn0IhvOOkafikMhLvL9ZYEWsL2UCZl4vXiqtes2d2svehY8nl4WdTn9KeEfOQ1zBDkuTI6luTEDYHgIXYtTVEUMf1zpKQQHsBuBkbanXdiXS5K0Fnx7rkGehYUuP-UDXhrz55aAIKeb8z/s1600-h/IMAG0103-797485.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEn0IhvOOkafikMhLvL9ZYEWsL2UCZl4vXiqtes2d2svehY8nl4WdTn9KeEfOQ1zBDkuTI6luTEDYHgIXYtTVEUMf1zpKQQHsBuBkbanXdiXS5K0Fnx7rkGehYUuP-UDXhrz55aAIKeb8z/s320/IMAG0103-797485.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438923664692494402" /></a></p>Starting over is always hard. I am sad and want to hope I will get better; I feel like I am going crazy though.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-18959381388465141692010-02-16T10:44:00.000-08:002010-02-16T10:46:37.548-08:00This I believeIn my english 121 class I had to write an essay for the NPR show This I believe, here is my submission.
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line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Andromeda <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Professor Kerri Mitchell<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">English 121<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">February 9<sup>th</sup>, 2010<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I believe in being silly.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Sometimes, life can get pretty busy and we lose sight of what is important; constantly writing out our to-do lists in our mind while we scurry about our day, not even taking a moment to smile at someone as we pass them by or enjoy a moment we find funny, or just a simple thank you to someone who hands us our coffee. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Growing up, my father would always make me laugh and never failed to do things I considered “strange” in front of my friends. One night I remember my dad making us participate in a home video where he would make up disappear. My father asked my sisters and me to jump really high while he recorded it; somehow he was able to create magic because when he played it back, it looked like we jumped out of the picture into thin air. <span style=""> </span>My father’s “child-like” behavior is one of his many personalities traits that I love and cherish, it is a trait that makes me laugh when I think of when I was 9 years old and looked over my shoulder from the kitchen sink and watched my dad as he climbed up each stair and farted, like he was making musical history.<span style=""> </span>Growing up with my father taught me that no matter how old you get, jumping around in the living room and singing <u>Turbo Lover</u> as you pump your fists into the air will never go out of style. I have many memories with my father and some of the happiest are the ones that seemed “lame” at the time, but in the end he taught me that being silly isn’t all that strange.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">As a parent, I often find myself mimicking my father’s crazy dance moves with my own children. I like to turn the volume up on the stereo in the living room and go crazy, dancing like a ballerina, twirling around my house with the grace of a duck; my daughter Alissa often follows closely behind me, clinging to my every move as she laughs out loud.<span style=""> </span>My son Bowen loves to feel the music bump in his body as he tries to spin on his back like a break dancer; he too is laughing out loud. It is moments like those that my kids will remember when they are my own age, those moments that make me happy and smile from ear to ear when I am feeling down and lonely. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span>I often take my ability to make others smile and use it to brighten someone else’s day.<span style=""> </span>I remember recently helping out my sister in her time of need; we were at the dinner table and my sister’s son Joseph was sad. She and her husband were going through a divorce and Joseph really didn’t understand why his dad wasn’t around and the mood around the table was a bit melancholy; too sad for my taste.<span style=""> </span>Out of nowhere I decided to let the noodles I was eating drop to my chin and get sauce everywhere; the sauce was getting on my shirt and my cheeks because I was turning my head back and forth causing the noodles to fly through the air. Joseph and my sister started laughing out loud and I realized, in that moment, that my little charade was able to bring a smile to a breaking heart. I did have to explain to Joseph that what I did was “cool” but I am still unsure if he thought it was or I was just being weird. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I believe that being silly has the power to heal saddened hearts. I often find myself making funny faces at children crying in shopping carts as their mommies try to reach the can on the top shelf at the grocery store. Sometimes, I would push my face up against the car door window and blow my cheeks out, and smooch my nose up like a pig as my husband drives past a fussy baby in the back seat of their moms beat up Buick. I believe that these little gestures of “silliness” can make a complete stranger smile, and in doing so change that strangers mood for the rest of the day. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I find loud farts funny, people getting hurt while doing stupid things funny, jumping up and down to make my boobs slap together funny.<span style=""> </span>It has taken my husband a long time to get use to the child like behavior that my father passed down to me. To this day, my husband finds the fact that I love to chase him around the house with my arms reached out for him yelling, “I’m gonna get you” extremely obnoxious because he hates being tickled; even so, it always end up with him holding me in his arms, laughing out loud, and my husband telling me he loves me.<span style=""> </span>There are even the occasional heated arguments where fingers are being pointed; accusations are flying as to why the dishes haven’t been done, and all of a sudden I would make a silly face and we both end up laughing, wondering why we were arguing in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I believe in being silly. Being silly to me means that I am making someone else smile, making memories, and changing someone else’s day. Being silly to me means that my heart is laughing instead of feeling sad. There are always going to be people in the world who choose to be unhappy, but for those of us who know what laughter can do know the power it can bring into someone else’s life. My hope is that I continue to live my life using this motto and that I can instill in my children the craft of silliness; and that they, in return, will teach the craft of silliness to their own children. I hope to teach perfect strangers that it is ok to live your life to the beat of your own drum, and that sometimes the drums might just be a little off, but that is ok. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">I believe in being silly, and if that makes me an outcast then I am here to join the club! </span></p>
<br />Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-5789386171310898472010-02-11T23:30:00.000-08:002010-02-12T00:03:36.235-08:00thinspirtation- take a hikeSo here is my reply to a girl that thinks looking like<span style="font-weight: bold;"> death</span> is "desirable"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">you do realize that some of the pics u posted are photoshoped to not show the ribs and all the bones to make them look more appealing? I dislike the fact you added me as a blog to follow since you obviously have this unrealistic desire to be unhealthy and look like a skeleton. please delete me. thank you.</span>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-21222703150459658302010-02-11T23:15:00.001-08:002010-02-11T23:27:36.603-08:00Hey my laptop worked!<div style="text-align: center;">On a different topic, I love and hate Celebrity Rehab.<br />I love watching the show because it inspires me, but i hate watching because I hate the fact that just because these are D list celebs (not Denis Rodman) that they are getting top of the notch help with their problems.<br />I am pissed because I desperately want help.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Hi my name is Andromeda and I am a situational alcoholic?</span> Meaning the min it hits my lips I drink till I can't drink no more.<br />This would be one of those occasions.<br /><br />If i stop drinking right now, my mind goes to food. I have drank a lot the past 2 yrs. I am pretty sure I have a drinking problem. Granted I am not an "every day" drinker, but once I feel the effects of the alcohol I can't stop.<br /><br />I rememberer not to long ago where I would purposely drink heavily because I knew the next day I would weigh less.<br /><br />I wish someone would take me away and teach me. Even if it is only for a few weeks. Let me be around others that suffer. Please, let me hear what others say. Let me feel the support, the inspiration.<br />I feel alone all the time. I am tired of it. Right now, there is ZERO people I could call or talk to, including me own spouce cause I persuaded him into getting another six pack. Grrr...<br /><br />Sure I will regret posting this in the morning, but I have decided to not sensor myself on here anymore, cause I created it to help, not make me feel like shit.<br /><br />Im now going to go finish my 8th beer then go to bed cause there's none left; i will feel sorry for myself clear until i wake up.<br /></div>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-85894914416037853472010-02-11T20:33:00.000-08:002010-02-11T20:45:01.684-08:00Football<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEUs5Lni0tIm5ydHe2C7vkYb5xJewdcup8URGotBZuf1rXc0rWT6kRDkKMQgehU9jJsg5NAZg_zN8TB0dMVISmlgOSrVckKrXZnAd1NxipOaFg3FvWyploftBdNNaBeRamd_S2DwAvRPM/s1600-h/0119091244.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEUs5Lni0tIm5ydHe2C7vkYb5xJewdcup8URGotBZuf1rXc0rWT6kRDkKMQgehU9jJsg5NAZg_zN8TB0dMVISmlgOSrVckKrXZnAd1NxipOaFg3FvWyploftBdNNaBeRamd_S2DwAvRPM/s400/0119091244.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437210720010304578" border="0" /></a>
<br />Yes, this is me in the middle. I was the on;y girl on the team.
<br />I love football and it is both one of my most happiest and my lowest points in my life.
<br />
<br />With that said I was looking on craigs list the other day and I saw that their trying to crate a semi-pro team here again. I decided to shoot them an e-mail and asked if this was a men's only team because I was looking to join, this was his response:
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">"Of course its a mens only team. practice is at stocker stadium on sunday, 11:30"
<br />
<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);">My response as follows:</span>
<br /><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);">"Well what the heck is that supposed to mean “of course”? I played football all through middle school and was interested cause I’d like to play. Geez. "
<br />
<br />What is with these guys thinking then can run everything? That I can take a good stiff arm to my helmet or a cheap shot from a loser from behind? What, I ain't man enough to take that punt return all the way back for a touch down while I jump over you arrogant ass holes?</span></span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 255, 255);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span></span></span>
<br /><span style="font-size:180%;">
<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);">All I know is I'm gonna be there on Sunday, with my pads on my legs or one in between my legs, ass holes.</span>
<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:180%;">
<br /></span></span></span></span></div>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-44485268850044616912010-02-11T14:09:00.000-08:002010-02-11T14:45:21.132-08:00...<span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);">another emotional day. Reading blogs about people being happy, having ED, exersize, everything but my school work, hanging with my kids, or cleaning. I am really depressed again, tired, crying all the time and worn out; however super excited to weigh less aga</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);">in this morning. How freaking lame and disgusting am I? </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);">To top it all off, I keep biting my lip on the inside in the exact same spot and it is always at the end of a binge. I need help, im lonely, scared, and pathetic. Taking the r</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);">est of the week off from the gym in hopes to reset myself. I almost feel like cutting again. sigh..<br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">UPDATE:</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">So I was going to lay down and take a nap with Alissa, but got a phone call that i can't because I have to go get Bowen from school; would have been no big deal if I wasn't already in my bed cuddling with her. Naturally I broke down and just started sobbing. Gosh I am so angry and I don't even know why. Really I am just FUCKING PISSED. I haven't been to the gym this week, not once. I know he knows I am feeling depressed, but he doesn't</span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> ask me about it. I know he knows I was in my room last night binging but as long as I don't bother his stupid fucking call of duty time then he will let</span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> me sit here and kill myself. My fau</span></span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">lt for being in a relationship with someone who also has an addictive personality. Yes I cussed on here, and if you don't like it, you 2 can fuck off. Not going to censor myself on my own blog anymore.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Witht hat said, I am hateful and spiteful today. I am most the time but hide it from everyone. No, I don't want to talk to god about it. No, I don't feel like he will help me and no I am not really sure what is wrong otherwise don't you think I would let it all go?</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">I also think its funny how I think one of these people picture below is beautiful and the other disgusting beyond belief! Both suffering from an eating disorder, one more sever then the other. Feel incredibly guilty.</span></span><br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7IEN5UXdac9ydTdK9MkcRxvuqtqC0YE-EY2zLvIg_75N0yrpWj2WQYn7wSB2A5ui5YtcQ09NhXtqE1vxmTYTTCqs_2BwO2AYdjj97YsgP6xpXa1Yzg1K3kxEaJoczRzrdxIfaRE1F2Jp/s1600-h/P1010014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7IEN5UXdac9ydTdK9MkcRxvuqtqC0YE-EY2zLvIg_75N0yrpWj2WQYn7wSB2A5ui5YtcQ09NhXtqE1vxmTYTTCqs_2BwO2AYdjj97YsgP6xpXa1Yzg1K3kxEaJoczRzrdxIfaRE1F2Jp/s400/P1010014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437117842275559906" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4834/991/1600/P3150012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 868px; height: 651px;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4834/991/1600/P3150012.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"><br /></span></span>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-35243302359205244152010-02-11T11:27:00.001-08:002010-02-11T11:27:13.762-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZq3eKnZZHwmGoCBY14SFQo2mnUDpjaSbBaj9DJxf7iS3gZ52ZrjvM2YYNaWHk60UT7POoAr1PDVLi05zQwz4OCThPFG4qR96drBxFZIDImq8KG73NAnpk3EfBaeJjenPhiGgiqhfnGYk/s1600-h/IMAG0091-733762.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZq3eKnZZHwmGoCBY14SFQo2mnUDpjaSbBaj9DJxf7iS3gZ52ZrjvM2YYNaWHk60UT7POoAr1PDVLi05zQwz4OCThPFG4qR96drBxFZIDImq8KG73NAnpk3EfBaeJjenPhiGgiqhfnGYk/s320/IMAG0091-733762.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437069682814982514" /></a></p>LunchLost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-51455727615096431322010-02-10T22:02:00.000-08:002010-02-10T22:42:14.038-08:00yeah rightSo here is a post in all of its "real-ness", it will be fragmented and grammar bad, but this is what free writing is about.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 255, 255); font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I am a liar!<br />I lie to everyone everyday, including myself.<br />I am not doing better, but I have fooled myself and everyone else into thinking I am.<br />Instead of purging junk food I am now purging really expensive food and costing my family more.<br />I have had ZERO days of no purging. I lie in my posts and to everyone that reads them.<br />I lie to my mother that calls to ask how I am doing<br />to my friend over the mtns<br />to my husband</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" > everytime</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> I tell him I am just going to go pee but in reality I am going to go throw up.<br /><br />I post pictures of the healthy food I make in a normal portion but don't show the 2nds and thirds that i always go back to get.<br />I was really pissed at the beginning of the week about my weight but I am super happy it is back in the 120's, but unhappy it is not lower.<br />I feel like I take one step forward and two GIANT steps back<br /><br />What is the point in my even keeping a blog to track my progress if all I am going to do is lie on it.<br />For the first time in a while I thought of death tonight.<br />I hate how I feel right now.<br />I hate how tired I am, that I haven't been to the gym and that I haven't done any homework this week.<br />I hate that when I do over eat that my food wants to come up on its own because of my reflux disease that I have had since I was a child and that there is nothing I can do to keep it down, thus making it one thousands time more difficult to resist the urge to just let my stomach purge its self.<br /><br />I hate the fact that when I do over eat I am in pain emotionally, plagued with anxiety even after the feeling of fullness is gone; and even after an hr has passed I will still go purge because the anxiety wins.<br /><br />I hate that I am a big fat FAKE. Please don't tell me that you look up to me because I am just betraying you. I don't want sympathy, i want nothing but to be free and sometimes it feels like death is the only way I will ever get that.<br /><br />No comments for this one guys.<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-78867192069047784822010-02-10T16:34:00.001-08:002010-02-10T16:34:20.466-08:00<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN5LA9G959c0uEHy-VEn4e7W0r-H5gouKZVj6wcvo-9U9dLO4Opboew8fWtsfc6dIV0SUcprgkAq6B1tdOVZL1LRbLqokR5wxgtSdPn2lP_RRKsEycJUk3V9sKUwBdAtDx3oyN-gn3BBz3/s1600-h/IMAG0088-760467.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN5LA9G959c0uEHy-VEn4e7W0r-H5gouKZVj6wcvo-9U9dLO4Opboew8fWtsfc6dIV0SUcprgkAq6B1tdOVZL1LRbLqokR5wxgtSdPn2lP_RRKsEycJUk3V9sKUwBdAtDx3oyN-gn3BBz3/s320/IMAG0088-760467.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436777740867756658" /></a></p>My beautiful baby sleepingLost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-935595910705354593.post-26151823241565407912010-02-10T14:41:00.000-08:002010-02-10T14:44:10.291-08:00shit (nothing)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img190.imageshack.us/img190/3897/doughnuts.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://img190.imageshack.us/img190/3897/doughnuts.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />well I ate a whole god damn box of doughnuts. :( now i'm tired and don't even want to go to the gym, whats the point anyway? easier to just keep doing the same, letting myself down gets really old.Lost in Obsessionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17960293674142284056noreply@blogger.com2