going home...

so I'm going back to the apartment. Flat out told the boyfriend that I wanted to try a new detoxifying diet 3 day fast and that monks do it all the time and one of my 50 year old friends tried it. He was skeptical, but I think he just kind of turns the other way and let's me do whatever I want.

Hopefully I can stay on track. I feel like a poisoned fatty cow. Just take me out to the yard and shoot me.

As soon as I get home, I'm throwing away my lowfat Babybell cheeses. I love them, but I know they'll fuck me up. I think those are the only bad food I have left in the house. I've got some fat free yogurts that will expire soon and oranges that may or may not be bad. Growing up poor, throwing away food has always tinged me with guilt, so I when I toss it I always have to like pour dish soap on it or something. I just think of my mother, probably at home eating cat food.

Ugh, but better wasted than waisted.

I have an appointment to see my psychiatrist. For something completely unrelated (ha. In the sense that he doesn't know about my relationship with eating...). I'm on Topamax right now; I convinced them to give it to me for headaces, which it does wonders for, but I really want it to kill my appetite. It doesn't even do that anymore. Fuckin' makes me angry. Pumping all these meds in me and I'm still having cravings. SO, maybe while I'm there to talk about my crazy issues I'll see if there's a poss. of upping the Topamax.

The airconditioner is broken and it's so hot under the freaking covers. Maybe I will melt away.