First day I’ve ‘forgotten’ to do my promise in the morning. Can’t be a coincidence that it’s the first day I actually thought about harming myself with food as I walked to work. I thought about writing in this journal ‘I am going to harm myself today and I don’t care.’
This thought followed hot on the heels of a bizarre temper tantrum as I put on my shoes and coat to leave the house. The new jeans I bought on Saturday keep riding right down on my butt so that half an acre of flesh between my trousers and my top is exposed, all flabby and pale. Disgusting. I got so angry I threw my shoe down the hall and ripped off my t shirt to replace it with a dress that obviously covers all of the area in question. I went full Hulk. Then I burst into tears.
‘This is why,’ I told my husband, who just took hold of me for a hug, wisely saying nothing. ‘This is why I can’t be fucking arsed to bother making myself look nice. Everything I own is shit, I look shit, and I hate myself.’ Which sums things up nicely. I have a picture in my head of how I want to look, and in no way does it match how I actually look now. The discrepancy angers me. It makes me want to harm myself.
And maybe I will. But not today. I promise I won’t harm myself with food today. I will stick to my plan and think about tomorrow when it comes.
I can push past this anger.