I woke up feeling okay today. I mean, I feel like I could almost enjoy today but I feel so guilty about even being alive that I don't know what to do with the fact that it's so pretty outside and my back is only hurting a little bit.
I'm still sick. I hate the word "sick". What does it mean really? In a way it just amounts to whatever set of conditions I'm experiencing right now. I could label every day as one where I'm feeling sick. Still, there are definitely periods where there is substantially more stuff going on with my body. Like right now, for instance.
I got on the scale yesterday. About two years ago we invested in a fancy, super accurate scale so that we could keep up with our bodies while The German and I were beginning an attempt to start eat more healthily. But I try not to get on the scale very much because I don't want VanGoghGirl to develop any unhealthy attitudes about weight. Well, I got on the scale just to check in because I was just sure that I had gained weight.
I'm still having trouble keeping my food inside me for very long. If I don't throw it up, my body decides that it will just have to get rid of it through the other end. I hope other people don't think that this is too gross to actually write about. This is my reality right now. Anyway, regardless of all that, it had seemed to me as if I'd managed to keep in a little bit more food in the past week. Evidently I was wrong.
I've lost even more weight. I guess I should have realized that before I got on the scale. Around the house I almost always wear muscle shirts. I don't have enough breasts to need a bra so a nice-fitting muscle shirt usually keeps "the girls" supported enough. I have on one right now and earlier this morning I was thinking that maybe it's time to get some new ones because all of the stretchiness had gone away in my favorite salmon-colored muscle shirt. Now I'm realizing that it isn't that the shirt isn't as stretchy as when I bought it. It's loose because I'm thirty pounds lighter than when I bought it.
In the past few months I'd still been wearing my regular jeans and t-shirts when I left the house but I had to start wearing a belt, which I'd usually only do when I want to look really dressed up. After a while, even with a belt, they began to look as if I were wearing MC Hammer pants. Thank goodness I have held on to my old jeans!
I actually had to go in and get a pair of my jeans that I bought in my college days and put them on--as you can see, I care nothing for what's fashionable when it comes to clothing. The jeans actually fit! This is so-oo-oo not good. I mean, there's the undeniable little thrill of being able to say that I can still fit my clothes from my "young and sexy days" but then there's the grim reality that the reason why I can fit them is because I am sicker than I've been in a long time. Still, the fact that I was able to sit in front of the computer and write this may mean that I'm going to get better soon.