So…some good news. I woke up before 8am. Okay, I woke up because there was an argument going on somewhere in the house but still, I didn’t just burrow back under the covers. I dragged my arse out of bed and was up and about before midday, so for that alone I give myself a mighty pat on the back.
I made a ‘to do’ list for the first time in fuck knows (before everything happened my ‘to do’ lists were a crucial part of my everyday existence) and sitting here at nearly 8pm I’m proud to say that I’ve ticked pretty much everything off. I managed to shower and brush my teeth and make myself look half decent.
I managed to go for a run. (Stamina was surprisingly high again.) I did some little writing jobs. I applied for numerous ‘big shot’ communication roles, including one for IKEA which I am freaking praying for right now, AND I’m very nearly back on track with my blogging duties.
On a slight downer…my appetite is still over the mountains and far away, and I found myself having some little, dangerous thoughts like ‘why not just keep eating the tiny bit that you’re managing and stick with it? Your stomach is flatter now and looks so much better in tight dresses…and your stamina is greater than it was before…there’s no need to eat more…’ but I’ve managed to pull the creases out of my thinking by reminding myself that the tattoos on my back are distorted because it’s so boney, and that jutting ribs really aren’t all that sexy. It’s tough though.
once again it’s 110% into everything I do. The season of sadness is slowly being left behind and the wheel of progression is turning.