My size zero shorts are falling off my hips, I'm afraid to carry anything in the pockets, in case it might weigh them down completely.
I've started running again. As I run on the treadmill, I feel like a hamster on an exercise wheel. I'm stuck, chained to this machine, I'm not allowed to get off. My legs are burning and my lungs struggle for air, I disassociate my mind from this body, I can't feel the pain because it isn't really me running. I ran three miles today, half a mile further each day.
I'm avoiding the scale, the last time I weighed in, I was 100 pounds. I don't bother, no matter what number it is, I'll never be happy.
All this work, effort, progress, it feels so pointless. I'm addicted to chasing a destination I'll never reach.
Does anyone know where Jordan, who used to write The JDawgManifesto, went? I'm worried about him.
Thank you incredibly for your comments on my previous post. All your concern and kind words really made me feel cared about and happy. I'm sorry I couldn't reply to comments individually, I was in a hurry for preparing for a 15 hour flight tomorrow morning.
Little Miss Thin