Holy shit, I'm alive.

Not that I expect anybody is reading this. I don't care much. I just need an outlet for some things. I have a regular blog, but the thing is there are a small handful of real-life friends who know about it, and so I have to censor myself a bit which means leaving certain topics untouched. Actually, I know there are at least a couple of regular readers of my regular blog that I've seen on weight loss blogs as well, so it's entirely possible I'll be recognized by someone, but that's okay.

In the nearly-a-year since I last wrote, a whole fuckload of things has happened. I had sex for the first time in four years, with only my second partner ever, who became a regular fuck buddy. I made a wedding cake for 300 guests. I realized I like pain and submission with sex. My mom came home from Mexico, sans her husband but plus two kids that have no relation to her. I had a couple of one-night stands and went to a strip club and discovered I'm a little bisexual. I started arranging the WMW threesome my fuck buddy wanted and he abruptly quit answering my texts and then blocked my number. I turned 30. I had a kind of mental breakdown during the holiday season, anxiety attacks and severe depression and all sorts of fun stuff. I got a new, non-restaurant job, a full-time desk job, and started gaining more weight. I met a guy and started dating him, and even though he was the opposite of anyone I ever thought I'd fall in love with .... I totally did fall in love for the second time in my life. I got forced out of my restaurant job that I was trying to keep as a second income. I gained some more weight. The aforementioned second love dumped me. I continued gaining weight. I interviewed for an absolutely perfect, wonderful job and didn't get it. My mother had her thyroid removed after months of hormonally-induced insanity. My grandma had a stroke. I found out my teenaged cousin had been raped. My boyfriend sort of came back for a few weeks. I was forced into a promotion at work that involved moving to a department I fucking hated. The boyfriend left again. My grandma got diagnosed with terminal cancer. I gained some more weight. I had a threesome with a married couple. I filed for bankruptcy because of the $18k in medical/credit card/miscellaneous other shit debt I had left after almost ten years paying off the first $16k of it. I quit my job because I hated it/they were going to fire me over attendance issues anyway because three different cars kept breaking down during my 100-mile-per-day commute.

So at the moment I'm broken-hearted, unemployed, broke, depressed, and some unspecified number of pounds heavier. I'm wearing a size 24 jeans, which is bigger than I've ever been. I've gained a lot of weight in my stomach and in front of my ribs, not at all proportional. I really haven't looked at the scale because it's depressing. I can't even guess how fucking huge the number is. But I know that at some point I'll want to know. So I got on the scale and I pointed my iPhone at it, took a picture, and sent it to a friend of mine without ever looking at it. That's what I'm going to keep doing over the next few weeks.

I have nothing carby and unhealthy left in my house. I have meat and cheese and eggs and fruits and vegetables, and there's no excuse for me to buy anything unhealthy. I'm also starting to really want to exercise, which is crazy - I've never wanted to exercise, at least not in the last 11 years, because all my jobs have involved being on my feet 40 hours a week. But for the last seven months, the only exercise I've gotten has been sex, and to my surprise I'm starting to feel physically restless. Of course, that's at odds with my depression. It's also not something I'm likely to act on any time soon because of the blazing fucking heat this summer - I can't afford a gym membership, the temperature in my house is never below 80, and I don't live somewhere safe enough to go for a walk late at night when it's tolerably cool. Sigh.

But, for now, I'll start with the eating properly. Stay tuned, nobody who cares.