yo-yo

After the terrible feeling that the past two days gave me ... I felt fucking depressed all day. Normally I just get frustrated with these failures, but today I felt not like I had failed, but that I was a failure. A measly two-day weekend and I really fucked up that badly? I couldn't fucking stick to the diet or at least fast one of those days? Why am I so self-destructive just when I start making progress? My initial weigh-in at work was 140.8, which made me want to slit my wrists.

Anyway, so I made a sad attempt to puke up a small (but calorie-heavy) lunch ... it was a lot later than I should've tried, but hey, some came out. Then the laxatives FINALLY kicked in (24 hours later) right as I clocked out for lunch. So I drove home for some privacy and couldn't wait to get back to work to see if that flushed anything out.

Official weigh-in (supported by three separate reweighs): 139.8. I don't know, I guess that's up a pound from three days ago. Could be worse, but it SHOULD be fucking better. The moment I got to work I realized I needed a 48-hour fast. I even downloaded a countdown app to keep myself motivated. Yes, it will be difficult, but it's always easier to skip meals on workdays ... even though there are constant temptations (like today, there were two giant platters of cookies; at least I didn't give in to the evil thoughts I had of immediately saying "fuck it" to a fast I had barely started). So, let's check the countdown ... 1 day, 11 hours, 4 mins, 24 seconds. It will certainly be a joy to wake up in the afternoon to see a much smaller amount of time. I really hope this keeps me on track to make it through the whole fast. At the VERY least, I will be fasting for 30 hours. But no, I will make it 48. I've done it in the past. It's no big deal. And then when it's over I will ONCE AGAIN restart SGD.

Fucking yo-yo.