fear & the nearing end

i think i had a dream in which i considered recovery.

in retrospect it felt more like a nightmare.

i remember freaking out about my clothes, about how i couldn't get them tailored because i'd just gain the weight back.



today my net calories are 762. not planning on eating again, i just had a huge jamba juice smoothie... and by huge i mean their smallest size, but it was 300 fucking calories.
i'm going to try to do sit ups, maybe get that number down to 700 before i go to sleep.
my life's been too hectic recently to freak out about making numbers smaller... i've tried to keep them down, but failed.




my gym membership has expired. it's okay, i hadn't used it in a while anyway.




i leave in five weeks.
for so long i couldn't wait to get away.
now that i've met EB, i kind of don't want to leave.
i'm still excited, i still want to go, but i'm going to miss him a lot.

now that it's so close, i'm freaking out.
it's real, it's not just a distant fantasy for future me to deal with.


now i'm feeling binge-y, fuck me. i'm in eat mode.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
avoid
distract
anything but eat.