Recently my words don't flow as easily.  It isn't that things aren't going on.  More things go on than I know what to do with.  I have so much packed into every day that they all are blurring together.  But I haven't been able to write about anything, not here, not in my notebook, nowhere.

Lately (as in yesterday and today), the idea of writing has not been so unbearable.  I have hope.  It sucks not being able to put words to paper.  It's hard to keep my thoughts straight.

I binged tonight.

I've been eating 3 meals a day for two months now and I'm still binging.  I'm almost at my high weight.  I'm at a weight which is objectively unhealthy.  I'm objectively fat.  I'm subjectively grotesque.  My loose loose jeans are tight.

I'm not dealing well.

Everything is very stressful lately.  I have too much work.  Things with FH are complicated (not necessarily bad, just complicated).  I haven't slept properly in weeks.  I feel anxious all the time.  I haven't had a full-on panic attack yet but there have been several instances of almost-panic which luckily I got under control in time.  My chest has been tight.

When I said I needed something to change, I meant it.

fat.  selfish.  buried in work.  i need something to change soon.  please.

still alive.  feel like i haven't slept in a month.  still anxious.  still fat.  still eating.