Regrets, I've had a few...

But then again... I can't sing.

So, I'm 22 days out and still wondering WTF i did to myself.  I'm puking a lot, I'm awakened most mornings at 3am by choking on my own stomach acid, I'm tired, and I'm horribly brain hungry.  I haven't been actually hungry yet, but man, I could write a book about the stuff I WANT to eat right now.  I want a piece of toast.  I want chocolate. I want biscuits.  I want a huge bowl of cereal.  I want all kinds of things simply because I know i can't eat that right now...

I want to know why one sad lonely spoonful of ice cream makes me soooo sick.  If I'm lactose intolerant I'm gonna be angry.   Just sayin'...

But really, right now it seems as though I've jumped through months worth of hoops to be surgically inflicted with an eating disorder.  I forget to eat like, anorexics do, and when i eat more than 1/4 cup at a time (or if i eat the wrong thing) then i feed the baby birds...  **blllppph*  {{politically correct disclaimer:  i am not putting down/making fun of/lightening the experience of an eating disorder.  Just how I feel. No offense meant. Close cover before striking. Yer mileage may vary.}}

By the postings I've read at a few different boards, feeling "normal" doesn't come into the picture for about 6 months. Oh, fricking yay!!  I mean, i can't call a do-over.  I'm just gonna have to suck it up.  Some days it's difficult.  My hubby is inflicted with a crying, snotty, bitchy couch-lump that keeps saying "It's okay, I did this to myself!!" every time he says he's sorry I'm feeling bad.  That man needs a medal... or a Klondike bar...

Lucky for you, I lost my train of thought...  I'm going in the kitchen to stare at the oatmeal that hates me...