Skip to main content

Day Four

a habit you wish you didn't have

I bite my nails so short that I cause myself physical pain. I was able to stop for about 6 months. I just made the decision one day to stop and I did. Then for no apparent reason I started again and can't stop myself. Alan is forever telling me off but I like the way it feels when the bit of nail rips away from my finger! I'm a little bit wrong in case you hadn't figured that out yet. I know its true because the 8 ball on the crappy phone Erin shouldn't have bought told me so.

I am also very forgetful (I put washing in the washing machine and then completely forget its there!), I am terrible at finishing things, I drink enough coca-cola to keep a small African village awake for 3 years, I shop when I am feeling blue and spend way too much money in general, despite hating bad spelling I always misspell definately (see! its an i not an a!), I use far too many exclamation marks when I write!, I use ... too much in much in written communication, I have trouble sitting still and twitch a lot, I clench my jaw and I eat potato chips ALL the time even though I know I shouldn't cause I'm trying to lose weight not accumulate it.

Apart from all of that... I am awesome!
Labels:

Comments

  1. Anecdotal Anna7 October 2010 at 15:02

    OH come on - I just did my post and thought I would check in on yours and we have the same concept! First it was our splotchy eyes now this.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Thanks for taking the time to comment!

Popular posts from this blog

I don't want to do this anymore

I am so over it right now. Everything feels hard. Everything feels shit. Everything makes me want to cry. I don't want to be a person any more. I don't want to be an anything any more. My children are smart. They get good grades, score well on NAPLAN, their teachers love them. Why then must they continue to do stupid things? I am so sick of a child running to tell me that so-and-so did such-and-such to me, I am sick of them hurting each other, I am sick of them destroying things, I am sick of them whinging, complaining, walking past rubbish on the floor, leaving shit everywhere, pretending they can't see the dog wee on the floor, having rooms that looking like the aftermath of a break and enter. I am sick of washing dishes, of sweeping floors, of the endless amounts of washing and folding and cleaning and tidying and cooking and planning and thinking. I am sick of feeling guilty for not being able to do those things that I should be doing, of feeling guilty that my husband...
7 comments
Read more

Confessions of a Fat Girl

I have been concerned about my weight and appearance ever since I was 12. I was teased in primary school for being fat and called names like porky. Here is a picture from my Year 7 Graduation to illustrate how fat and disgusting I was I say fat and disgusting because I truly believed when I was 12 that I was some hideously fat monster that no boy would ever want to kiss, no boy would ever want to go out with, no boy would ever love. It makes me so sad looking at this photo to know that I was so slim, so pretty, my life should have been full of wonder and possibility. Instead I began my journey down the long dark road that has led me to the depths of depression and an obsession with my weight (but thankfully never an eating disorder) and today it has led me to make this confession... I am currently the heaviest I have ever been in my entire life. I have eaten myself to the weight I never wanted to be. I am the exact thing I was teased for being. Along with the fact that I don...
4 comments
Read more

Week One... Or Should I Say Week Two Thousand One Hundred and Seventy Nine...

 That's how many weeks I have been alive (give or take a couple of days). Two thousand one hundred and seventy-nine. Yet here I am still fighting the same fights I have always fought. Self-image, self-acceptance, unrelenting standards, imposter syndrome.  Once again I find myself in a body that feels uncomfortable and unhealthy. It crept up on me slowly and suddenly all at the same time. I still barely eat any refined sugar. I turn down the lollies and cakes and doughnuts at work. It's not even a struggle, I no longer enjoy the way sugar makes my body feel. But my old nemesis, potato chips, remains undefeated. I eat potato chips to fill the emptiness in my soul. To feel as miserable physically as I do mentally or emotionally. To get comfort from an association with my childhood. It is the struggle I can't overcome. The war I can't win. So after months of trying on my own to no avail, months of the scales not budging, I have signed up for a healthy eating plan. I'm n...
2 comments
Read more