Struggling on.

I was going to at least go for a walk last night, but then I came across something that really upset me and I ended up having a mini breakdown and just going to bed. Still not too happy today. Not too happy is an understatement. I'm fucking depressed. So far I haven't made any poor choices foodwise, mostly because I'm too bummed out to care much about food or anything else. Yeah, it's about the ex. Yeah, it's pathetic.

Plus I know tomorrow is pretty much going to be a disaster. I'll be spending tomorrow with people I don't want to spend time with (one of whom I actively hate), at a place I don't want to be at, doing something I don't want to do -- and I'll be surrounded by food I shouldn't eat. Which is not to say I'm throwing in the towel immediately. I'll have a good breakfast (eschewing the famous cinnamon rolls at the place we're going, sigh), and I'll do the best I can with dinner (I have no idea what my aunt is making, my luck lasagne or something). Not sure what I'll be able to find at a freaking rodeo/fair/carnival that would remotely okay, plus frozen pina coladas are going to be enticing. I don't even drink normally but certain people who will be present tomorrow awaken the urge. Only plus; outside means I can keep my sunglasses on so people won't really be able to see my expression. That'll make faking happy -- which is absolutely necessary with that side of my family -- a little easier. Wish I'd had an excuse to not go. BTW, the person I hate isn't related to me. It's the skanky chain-smoking drunken bitch who's latched on to my father.

The chunk of fat in front of my ribs feels bigger and like it's sticking out more today. It feels discouraging. But I know it's just a feeling. It's because I'm not as bloated anymore, so overall I'm more jiggly; also the first place I lose any weight, even a few ounces, is in front of my hips. So basically there's just a little less support overall for that chunk of fat. I hate that particular chunk of fat. It sticks out over my waistband and it makes my (larger than average and very fabulous) boobs look smaller. I don't like that. They deserve more attention. I have a lot of clothes that, when they fit, draw attention to my rack, so it would be nice to wear them again. Not that I really have anywhere to do so.

I haven't done any work on my story. It's really hard, when swamped under with misery, to try to create something that feels anything other than miserable. Not to mention that crying until you puke makes it hard to type. One day at a time ....