Monday night

I see my therapist Thursday.  I kind of dread it.  She is not stupid.  She will ask me right away.  Whether she has heard about my ridiculous ER adventure or not she will ask about those dreaded topics of eating and weight.

I don’t know how many pounds I’m going to drop tonight, tomorrow, Wednesday night.  On Thursday I don’t know what I’ll weigh.  You just can’t predict these things.  She’s been away on vacation and I haven’t seen her since the 19th, a week ago.  I am four pounds less than I was then.

It feels so glorious.

Recently, I dropped four pounds overnight.  Then two more the next night.  I just didn’t want to be fat.

This is scary and I am losing my mind.

 

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