Confession Time

This weekend I was supposed to fly to California to go to a dear friend's wedding. My sister is the maid of honor and I was supposed to man the gift table and the guest book.

Well, I didn't go. I freaked out. I drove back to KC from Pburg and everything, and I had a meltdown. I couldn't do the dress and the pictures and the reception with the food and the travel and the gym (or lack thereof). I just couldn't do it.

So I drove back to Pburg. I've camped out in my room with my boyfriend all weekend because he's protecting me from myself.

I weigh the most I've ever weighed before. It's almost like I can't control it. It's shooting up. I don't know why.

I promised him that we would play tennis yesterday, but then I began having some bad endo attacks. I felt so bad about it.

I'm sorry.

I just want to cut it off. I want to cut all my fat off. I want to peel off my skin and have my soul crawl out and be rid of this body. I no longer have use for it.

I hear torment in my head, and my only choice is to smile and keep moving. I miss talking to someone who listens. My boyfriend doesn't know what to say anymore and just gets frustrated and walks off. He doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't like feeling helpless. So I do my best to hide it from him.

I asked him the other day if he could tell that I've gained as much as I have in the past 2 months. He said I look sexy. He said I have a butt and boobs and my legs are sexy. He said my hipbones don't dig into him as much and my ribs don't stick out. I asked if he could see it in my face and neck. He said I look "healthy".

He then went on to address the fact that he know that "healthy" probably holds a negative connotation and is synonymous with "fat", but that he thinks it's good.

I know he thinks it's good, but I'm jumping out of my skin right now.