That thing I can't get over

When I think about how men I knew in South Korea, or men I dated, wouldn't even glance at me now because of my weight gain in the US, when I think about how I would be stopped in the street and told to loose weight if I was still there, when I think of all the ways society through every sensationalized picture and article derides me for my weight...

There aren't many times anymore that cutting seems like a viable option. I'm pretty much totally against willful self-injury this far out. But, when I think of all those things, I want to take a sharp knife and cut into myself, cut down too the muscle on my arms and legs, stomach, face and back. I want cut until the ugly is cut out of me, because surely being covered in scars is far better than being fat.

*deep sigh*

I've lost weight several times, (hiking often, watching what I eat, doing weights, and running regularly, often for two hours a day, for over a year) down into the 160s, which is still roughly 15 pounds above the max weight I should be at my height and 20 to 30 above what they'd like me to be. So, please explain to me what the fucking point is? I loose weight, work my ass off, forgo relationships just to work out because it requires SO MUCH TIME, embarrass myself at the gym six days a week, by being surrounded by people smaller than me, who look at me with amusement or disgust, only to STILL BE A FAILURE. I mean, really, that's the reality, society says, if you're not a "normal weight" than you're a failure. If you didn't get there than you're actively choosing to be ugly/unhealthy/unattractive/undesirable/worthy of punishment and derision. Don't worry, I got that message loud and fucking clear. Maybe I should have been working out  3 hours a day. Maybe I should have quit my job and just worked out. Maybe I should quit school and quit eating, because I certainly can't work run and do weights two hours a day, eat 1200 calories, and then try to make A's or work (I tried, I would get dizzy and brainless and weak about half way through the day, trembling, tripping, sometimes unable to stand I felt so weak, and I stank). At that point my brain is only capable of the simple math required to count and recount and fucking recount all the calories I've eaten, always rounding up so I don't "underestimate" the calories in something.

I would love to be acceptable in the eyes of others. That's really what it boils down to; the thing I'm incapable of achieving, the thing I can't get over.

I would like to go to a nutritionist for someone to help me make a plan and keep me accountable, and advocate to help me see extreme healthiness as a reward rather than a punishment, but when I think about it I have panic attacks imagining how she/he will tell me I'm killing myself and poke me rudely and and treat me with disgust (this, has, in fact, happened before, so I'm not just imagining some impossible scenario).

Mostly, self-injury doesn't seem like an option, but when I think of those things, it feels like the only one.

This Constitutes That

I guess it's been about a week and a half since I did interval stuff, but I mowed the lawn yesterday and did a lot of potting and digging in my garden, and worked on the back yard. All together it took hours. I was so sore when I laid down last night. I'm counting that as my work out.

I'm trying to grow healthy food. I bought compost yesterday which I'm hoping will work as soil, though I'm concerned that it's holding onto too much moisture. If the plants don't sprout in the next week I'll get top soil and mix it in to ensure that it drains properly. Actually, I think I'll do that anyway, because squash is susceptible to root rot (I would know, it happened in my last garden).

I am also trying to eat healthy food/smaller portions again. But I will not spend my life hungry.

I am hoping to wake up bright an early tomorrow morning and see just how much damage was done by my hiatus. I will try 90 second breaks. I expect to look like someone who's having a heart attack when I'm done.

My sister said to me "it's good you don't care what people think of how you look when you work out." Yeah, I'm fairly sure that was a backhanded compliment, but I'll take it!

Cycle

Period should be over tomorrow. I hope.
Walked for an obscene distance, considering I was in chucks and jeans, two days ago with a very thin friend (acquaintance?) who I think triggered my weight stereotype threat.

Also, I went running the day after I fell.

I've been kind of active kind not depending on the day with my cycle on, and it was five days late, so that was five days of cramping and weighting and thinking it would start any minute only to find out that I could have worked out that day.

NOT going to talk about the weight.

Hopefully will begin running again this week, Tuesday if not tomorrow.

Quinoa went bad in the fridge, turned slimy and purplish.

That's all

Waiting

So, four days ago I began to cramp so I stopped with the running to let myself have my period.

Four days ago. Still no period.

But, lots of cramps, increased moodiness, anxiety, hunger.

Weighed on the scale. Surely I haven't gained 10 lbs in the 3 weeks of exercising...

Sore, tired, did I mention moody. And no period.

Perhaps it will skip this month and I will have missed a week of working out for nothing.

Perhaps if I start running again it will start, just to spite me.

I definitely have more muscle and less flab.

My face has also broken out.

This week could be worse. I could have a toothache, or a UTI, or ingrown hairs, or the flu.

I also smell bad.

I miss working out.

BUT, I have painted.