Wretched

You've seen how I look now. I feel like you should know how I looked then.

I'll do anything to keep from going back to this.

And yeah, it makes me fucking sick. And I'm completely ashamed. But I recognize that I did this to myself, and I changed it. And I will never be this person again. It's been almost two years since I was obese. This is from April 2010, once month before I went on my first "diet." I've come a long way since then, and I don't feel like the same person. I hate the girl I used to be. Violently.

It's raining in the desert

First off, thanks to americaneaglelove & G for following! I'm excited to start catching up on your blogs as well. Also, Victoria, Dainty, & Louise: Thank you for the advice about my body issues! I really appreciate it. I definitely plan on starting on BC soon, and I'll let you know whether or not it seems to make a difference. I'm sure we all have our own issues when it comes to looking/feeling "womanly," since we all have different (and probably really distinct) definitions of how a woman should look.

Because I'm feeling excessively confident today (because rain always puts me in a good mood), I thought I'd post another picture, just so you all have a better idea of what my "body" looks like. This is how I look/dress 90% of the time. Flannel shirts when I'm not wearing wife beaters, and I hardly ever wear make-up or do anything with my hair. This is what an athletic, 23-year-old, 5'5", 142 pound woman looks like. Or, at least, in my case. Current BMI: 23.6. The shorts are a size 8, the top is just an over-sized flannel from my (ex) boyfriend. And yes, that's a measuring tape hanging off the door handle.

Also, I've recently updated my "playlist" page, and I do really want recommendations! Either for relaxing music, or stuff that's great for cardio.

What do you really look like?

I'm twenty-three now. Well, as of Wednesday. I feel like I should be too old to...well, you know. To be sick. Or to put up with any of this.

I just finished a conversation with Liam, about what was happening with me back in October and November. I had just gotten on my SSRIs and I was down to somewhere around 500 calories a day. So naturally, I was depressed. And he says, "please don't do that again," and follows it up with "I worry about you, kiddo."

I know he's trying to make me smile.