I hate how triggering this job is. My last job I could go all day without eating and not even notice. Now all I think about is food food food. Disgusting nasty food.

I can't stand to spend my lunch in the break room with everyone else, so I go outside and smoke and slowly spoon baby food out of a jar and eat it so I don't pass out. Then invariably some idiot I work with comes out for a cig and sees me with that unmistakably shaped jar and gives me the side eye the whole time they're out there. Fuck you, I have to eat something and this food is safe. Don't look at me in that tone of voice.

My jeans really are disgustingly tight after this weekend. I look like I'm a fat ugly idiot who doesn't know what size he wears. I still am too scared to get on the scale. If I see the numbers jump it will make it more real than just seeing how the clothes fit. And I've been having such a hard time already getting it down because I've been binging so much since I've been so upset about everything. I ruined all my own hard work.

I wish it could be the way it was a few months ago when I was so careful and so secret and the weight was dropping off like crazy. Now every fraction of a pound is a struggle, every day where I can keep to the plan is a huge victory. I want it to go back to being easy and being my own special secret.

Therapy is a go this week after all. I'm an adult and nobody is forcing me to go, I don't understand why I still subject myself to it. It just makes everything worse.