Where Am I?

My head is simultaneously racing and in a fog.

I type this on my blackberry while sitting in the car and looking at the house.

The house represents disorder for me right now; work to be done. There are things inside that need to be completed and there is food.

I'm having a tough time with the eating disorder thing. I try to convince myself that I have it under control, but I know I don't. Every chance I get I have a tape measure around my waste or I'm turning sideways to see how much of my stomach pokes out or walking to see if my thighs touch.

My skinny jeans are looser around the waist. I like that, but exercise wasn't the catalyst. It was really colonics, repeated sweats in the sauna and barely there eating.

T-doc told me to journal. Blogging kinda is.

Hubby is my other 1/2; better 1/2. How is it that he loves me thicker, yet I want to be smaller for him?

Butterfly, what are you doing?

I'm doing the lemonade diet aka master cleanse.

Why?

My skin isn't as clear as I want it. Toxins are what has me looking and feeling like this. Get rid of the toxins and I'll feel better, right? But I spend so much time purging, sweating, and watching what I eat that I'm not getting anything done.

I'm still in the car.

Hubby loves me as I am.
I need to love me as I am.

I know I'm not fat. With the exception of 2 inches, I'm almost back to work standards.

Then paranoia starts. I feel like some people are waiting for me to crack just so they can say "I told you so!" WHATEVER! I don't need to be on meds just because you are!

I don't like not having friends, but I like not listening to b*tchin a whole lot more than not having friends.

Then comes the law of attraction. To think negative is to get more of it.

Can’t do this right now.

I’m going in.