Once again, being social is good.

(Weight wise, the news is that I ate well today. Other than that it's a bunch of blathering.)

I managed to sleep a little bit today, and woke up starving. I was in the process of making myself something to eat when somebody knocked on my door and my dog went absolutely nuts. It was a college kid doing one of those fundraiser things, and I thought that once I told him I was unemployed and couldn't help, that would be the end of the conversation. Instead, I ended up talking to him for almost an hour. It was quite a weird conversation; I think he was hitting on me, truthfully. He kept asking me questions, and telling me personal stuff, and complimenting me. I now know that this stranger used to have a Prince Albert piercing, has 21 tattoos, likes big women and was in fact in an amateur porno with a big woman, his sister works for a big adult film company, he takes certain drugs for "enhancement" in sexual situations, and he thinks all women should have at least three vibrators.

Most people would probably be uncomfortable with a conversation like that with a stranger, I think. I just laughed and shot back jokes about threesomes and strippers. But it was still a very odd encounter. He gave me his phone number in case I ever wanted help with "chores." He also said he'd been wanting to stop by and find out who had the car with the great racing stripes (they're not great, they're freaking stupid). It doesn't happen to me often, but I definitely got the feeling he was hitting on me. I might have enjoyed it more if he hadn't said "wasn't there a guy living here too?"
I said my mom lived here before and she was married.
"No, since then. A big guy?" and he made that shoulder gesture that means muscular instead of fat.
My heart sank and I tried to say casually, "I had a boyfriend for a while."
"Kicked him to the curb, huh?" he grinned at me.
"No. The opposite." I tried to say it in a tone of voice that would shut him up.
It didn't work. "Oh. Why?"
I had to swallow hard before I could say, not very loudly, "I don't know."
"Well, he's dumb! You're cute."
I just laughed and said thanks. Once he left, though, I felt really sad. Then I started to get paranoid and wonder if he was just pumping me for information because he's going to rob and rape me or something. But he looked like he was about to shit his pants when my dog was barking at him, so I'm not too worried.

I finished making my dinner and ate, trying to decide if I wanted to meet a friend for our usual Saturday night bingo or not. I didn't feel like facing the world but she guilted me in to it, so I showered and left. And I cried all the way in to town, and then was so early I didn't want to go in by myself so I sat in a park by a willow tree kind of in the dark and sniffled to myself. I hate how much I miss him. I hate that I miss him and not just someone. And I'm shocked that it's not triggering binge after binge after binge, honestly. I guess it's because in this case, I know that eating won't make me feel better. Sometimes it does. In this case, though, it wouldn't accomplish anything.

Not for me!

Anyway, I met my friend, and I consumed all my carbs for the day in one meal but overall behaved myself. I didn't even eat the pile of chocolate deliciousness she kept trying to push on me and ordering me to eat because she was full. No fucking idea how I managed that. By the time I headed home, I was feeling .... not happy, but at least not miserable. I felt slightly hopeful. It lasted a couple of hours before I started getting mopey and sniffly again. It's like I need constant stimulation, constant distraction, or else I start obsessing and missing him and moping.

I'm not naturally a weepy person. Depressed, yes, which is why I've been on Prozac for years, but that's just a biochemical imbalance (my personal theory is that my mother smoked marijuana while she was pregnant with me). That aside, I'm usually loud and cheerful and the life/annoyance of a party. Or at least a small group. I feel like my lovesickness is almost totally subsuming my personality. If this stuff doesn't start to pass soon ... fuck, I don't know what I'll do. I can't afford professional help. I guess all I can do is keep trying to process it. I should probably delete his number from my phone but I can't yet. I did finally get rid of the last of the pictures. I still have them on my computer, but I haven't looked at them in a week. I guess that's something.

I'm worried about what will happy in terms of my eating if I do start feeling normal again, though. It's weirdly easier now that it is when I feel happy. When I'm happy I'm more likely to toss everything to the wind because it doesn't seem important when I'm already happy. Of course, I'm not doing this because of being unhappy, because weight loss won't do anything for that either.