I fell asleep last night with plans going through my head; plans to rearrange my bedroom, visit Z, and go for a long walk. I didn’t sleep well as a result (thinking too much hurts my brain) and kept getting up to eat chocolate and smoke. The diet isn’t going well. I’m undoubtedly eating healthier, but I’m still stuffing my face. The combination of steroids, munchies from the weed and a still-going huge Christmas pig-out has left me with no real motivation to shift these few stones. I know I need to get a grip on this binging, because it’s teetering on the edge of becoming a massive problem and I have enough to deal with right now.
As usual, the plans didn’t exactly materialise. I woke up around 2pm with a fuzzy head, and spent far too long trying to pull myself together. Washed my face (second day in a row, go me!) and spent a millisecond considering getting dressed before realising that there was no way I was going to leave the house today, let alone visit Z. Stayed in my pyjamas, lit some candles, lied to Z and said I had no money (horrible friend, horrible horrible friend) and spent the day sorting a few small things out and replying to comments on my blog. I just didn’t feel like I could speak to anybody today, let alone find the money to pay for a taxi and spend the day at Z’s house. I’m getting nervous about being in public again, which is a bad sign; I can’t lose that confidence. Everything goes to shit when I stop going out, and I haven’t been leaving the house much at all recently.
I’ve arranged with Z to go for coffee with her on Thursday, and I’ve told myself that I will go out.