I gained 8 pounds in the last three weeks. From 155 to 163. That puts me back in the obese category. I feel like a failure. I succeed in school but fail in my personal life....or else it is the other way around.
My boyfriend is an amazing cook. He cooks delicious, aromatic food and then serves me as much as he eats. He then offers me seconds...dessert...full sugar soda. I am having difficulty saying no. I see it and know it is too much. I tell him I can't finish but he insists. I have this obsession with really tasty food. If it is veggies or even Panda Express I can control myself. I just stop when I am full and throw the rest away. But with home-made, spicy food I fall into this vortex of consumption. I love to eat good, home-made food. It makes me feel loved and nurtured. Then, at the end of the night, I see my belly and I am ashamed.
I lost one pound last night, so I'm 162 at the moment, but that is still 25 pounds more than my goal weight. I want to be 135 again. I was under 115 until the age of 22 or 23, when the psychiatrist put me on Zyprexa, an anti-psychotic that is notorious for massive weight gain. At the age of 24-ish or 25, I lost a lot of weight and weighed in at 133. Of course, I was floridly psychotic and malnourished from my once-a-day meal diet and I was quickly institutionalized, but I still want to be that weight again. I don't want to be 115 or below. I just want to be 135. I like having curves, but I must be in the normal BMI range. I must.
It is sad that I am content not seeing my boyfriend for the next two days because I get to go back on a low cal veggie and yogurt diet. I like his company, but I fear his two entree dinners. There must be some middle ground?
Classes are going very well. It was difficult to adjust to the new standards at first. It took a good two months to get accustomed to the daily readings of academic journals, but it was worth it. I studied hard, I read a lot, and now I have excellent grades. Term papers are coming up, and then that is the end of my first semester as a graduate student. I just have to work my butt off coming up with a good analysis of the data I accumulated.
I am feeling better about being a person who has bipolar-disorder with psychotic manias. I am beginning to see that there is a life outside of drama and madness. There is a life of productivity, moderate amounts of energy, and success. Now, if only I could lose the 25 pounds....
My boyfriend is an amazing cook. He cooks delicious, aromatic food and then serves me as much as he eats. He then offers me seconds...dessert...full sugar soda. I am having difficulty saying no. I see it and know it is too much. I tell him I can't finish but he insists. I have this obsession with really tasty food. If it is veggies or even Panda Express I can control myself. I just stop when I am full and throw the rest away. But with home-made, spicy food I fall into this vortex of consumption. I love to eat good, home-made food. It makes me feel loved and nurtured. Then, at the end of the night, I see my belly and I am ashamed.
I lost one pound last night, so I'm 162 at the moment, but that is still 25 pounds more than my goal weight. I want to be 135 again. I was under 115 until the age of 22 or 23, when the psychiatrist put me on Zyprexa, an anti-psychotic that is notorious for massive weight gain. At the age of 24-ish or 25, I lost a lot of weight and weighed in at 133. Of course, I was floridly psychotic and malnourished from my once-a-day meal diet and I was quickly institutionalized, but I still want to be that weight again. I don't want to be 115 or below. I just want to be 135. I like having curves, but I must be in the normal BMI range. I must.
It is sad that I am content not seeing my boyfriend for the next two days because I get to go back on a low cal veggie and yogurt diet. I like his company, but I fear his two entree dinners. There must be some middle ground?
Classes are going very well. It was difficult to adjust to the new standards at first. It took a good two months to get accustomed to the daily readings of academic journals, but it was worth it. I studied hard, I read a lot, and now I have excellent grades. Term papers are coming up, and then that is the end of my first semester as a graduate student. I just have to work my butt off coming up with a good analysis of the data I accumulated.
I am feeling better about being a person who has bipolar-disorder with psychotic manias. I am beginning to see that there is a life outside of drama and madness. There is a life of productivity, moderate amounts of energy, and success. Now, if only I could lose the 25 pounds....
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