I hate food.  I hate being fat.  I hate this excess... this constant excess carrying itself on my body.  It sits there and it reminds me of how awful I am, how slothful, how lazy, how worthless, how unattractive I am... and it reminds me all day long.

So I'm on weight watchers.  I'm trying to do things right this time.  I'm trying not to starve myself into illness or rot my teeth any further away with purging.  I'm working hard and moderation is fucking awful.  It is hard to remind myself to not be on the extremes of things.  I am used to black or white, all or nothing.  That's why anorexia/bulimia was so useful to me.  I could either have all or I could have nothing... but one way or another, I could control it.  I could say when enough was enough.  No one else had that right... no one else could tell me what was wrong or right.  I decided.

I decide, kind of, on Weight Watchers.  I count my points and I can go to the edge of the points or I can be minimalist... though, they say not to.  Healthy.  I try.  Like any anorexic mindset, however, restaurants are killers.  They present opportunities for the nothing mind to gorge...

We are in Hawaii.  I am constantly surrounded by restaurants... in situations where I cannot accurately count, measure, or control anything.  I am so strict at home that I weigh my food on a scale.  I measure every cup, half cup, etc.  This is perfect for me, right?  Well, I started eating tonight... and it was digusting.  Disgusting.  Surrounded by restaurants... I felt myself get anxious.  The last few days have become increasingly more difficult when I stand in front of a menu and decide what I can or cannot have.  I feel I can't have most of it and I get panicky.  Will I have the willpower?  Do I have the control?  But I'm so hungry... but I want to eat like a happy fat person again.  It's freaking stinking hard.  Today hit me.  The stress of restaurant after restaurant quickened my pulse, sped up my respirations and I had to fight back the shaking and the tears.  I'M SICK OF EATING.  I'm sick of these choices.  I'm sick of restricting, of controlling.  I'm on vacation in Hawaii for damn sake.  I can enjoy things minimally.  This is good... because I won't go home a blown up cow ... but I just feel trapped.  I don't know what to do with these extremes. 

I don't like this anxiety.  I don't like constantly wondering and fearing food.  I don't like the power it has over me.  I...

I feel really sad right now and I don't know what to do with it.

I really desperately need someone's shoulder to cry on right now.
I need someone to hug me and tell me that I'm not as unwanted as I'm being made to feel...

I'm trying so hard to make myself into something someone would want.  I'm trying so hard to say things the right way, to be respectful, to listen, to be apologetic when I say something that upsets you.  I'm praying all the time for this ridiculous thing.  I'm trying to give you space.  I'm trying not to cuss up a storm, say mean things, or make things worse...

and I get nothing.  I get more and more of this nastiness.  I get told how awful I am, how all I do is complain, how sick you are of me.  I get told how much you hate me and how you hate being around me... and how you don't even know why you're with me.  I get told that you don't care if you've made plans with me or said I could do something with you.  I don't even get the courtsey of a call and you say you don't care and that you don't have to call me if something changes.  I get told to leave you alone and when I do, it just gets worse.  I can't do anything right... I can't breathe properly, look properly, and I can't even exist in your presence properly.  I exist to make you angry.  And you hate me. 

The person I'm fighting for hates me.  The marriage that I push to keep together is broken because he's angry at me.  Why is he so embittered today?  We were sitting in church and he said some things that bothered me.  After church, I got quiet.  That's all.  Quiet.  He harasses me.  What's wrong?  Don't worry.  What's wrong.  I'm tired and I don't like how I feel rejected because you keep telling me my breath stinks in church.  You said it like four or five times and I was trying to listen to the sermon.  Your breath sucks too!  He didn't hear a word of it other than... your breath sucks too.  He was pissed.  Said he didn't like it.  I said I was sorry and that I was sorry I upset him.  I didn't mean for it to come out that way.  Silence the rest of the ride home.  Anger.  More and more anger.  He said all I do is complain and annoy him.  I don't give him any freedom.  I don't let him do anything.  He said all he felt was hate.  All of this because I said his breath sucked too.  I asked him if this was really how he wanted to handle things.  Nothing.  He said he doesn't want to be around me and he doesn't know why he should want to be around me.  All I do is make him angry.

Dear God, what the fucking hell did I do wrong?!  I haven't slept well in the last four days.  I was sensitive.  It bothered me.  He says meaner things than I said up there to me all the time and I let it go.  I let it go.  He says he'd like to be around me if I stopped saying things that pissed him off.  I've tried so hard... so so hard.  He was fine this morning.  We leave church and all the fucking devils come out.  I had hope yesterday... for the first time in such a long time because I felt I had tried and done well.  But right now, I don't see God and I don't see him helping me through this.  I don't see him trying to soften John's heart.  I don't see him comforting me.  GOD, WHY CAN'T I FEEL YOU WHEN I NEED YOU THE MOST?!  I can't stop crying.  I have this violent ache in my heart right now.  It's the only kind of ache a heart can feel when over and over again, someone is told by someone who once loved them that they are hated and unwanted.  I am hated and unwanted.  I am hated in my marriage.

While I am learning that I am the only one responsible for my actions, he is continuing to blame me for his.  He called me and I stated that he had left his father's day card for his dad here.  He initially says in a harsh tone, "Don't touch it."  I didn't do anything.  I just noticed it and let him know.  That was it.  "Yeah, well, don't touch it.  I figured you would."  Like I was going to throw it away... every fucking sin is held against me no matter how hard I try. 

We're going to Hawaii on Wednesday and I can already see that I'm going to be on fucking eggshells.  I've been on eggshells the last two days and one little thing breaks the egg.  It hurts so goddamned much to constantly be told how much I'm hated... by the end of this, what will be left of my self-esteem?

No one wants me to work for them.  My own husband doesn't even want me.  Why would anyone else... why should I feel confident?  I know I can do the work... but no one wants me.  I don't want someone else to define me... but man, I hate myself so much right now.  The very thing I've tried so hard to run away from in myself while growing up... I've found myself running into in the form of my husband.  The loathing, the disgust, the anger... the hatred... all the things I had for myself and have worked so hard to improve... he has for me... and I'm reliving the whole damned thing all over again...

Except... this time... it's so much worse.  so so much worse.