Friday

 Woke up around 4:45am this morning, still not very well at all.  I was waking up to pee hourly, and had a fever.  I chatted online with M, and dozed.  Called in sick to work. 

At 8:30am I went to the supermarket and picked up some more soup (I had left the cans I bought on Thursday morning at work) and some “lady supplies”.  I had some spotting this morning, so let’s add insult to injury and let my period come along, too.

After that I went to the post office to get this card set up for M.  Bought the express international envelope.  I was a bit annoyed that I had to drive home to get online and activate the card, then drive back to the post office to lodge the envelope with the card in it, but that’s life.  So I did that. 

I felt like such a hobo, wandering around this morning.  Wearing jeans that are now 3 sizes too big for me, the belt with the extra holes punched in it flapping around at my side, because now it’s too long.  I had just bought a couple of pairs of pants right before my weight plummeted, so it’s now feeling like a pain in the ass to have to do that again, to lay out the money, even though I only buy cheap jeans from K-Mart or Big W.  And I guess my weight loss has been bigger than I realise.  13kg now, or 28.6lbs.  It’s more than 2 sizes down.  I didn’t realise I was so fat.  I mean, I did.  I knew I had gained weight, I felt like I looked awful, and I felt uncomfortable in my body.  But I was still only 73.5kg (161.7lbs).  That’s not very much, but it was too much for my build I guess.  I still feel chunky now, but I know that is just because I am out of shape.  If I got regular exercise my body shape would change and I would feel better about it.

*****

I am not sure what has happened in the last hours, but right now I feel like fucking killing myself.  I can’t get anything right.  I can’t ever seem to succeed at the things I want because I self-sabotage.  This is even to the point where I started to think about how, provided I could make my death look like an accident, M would get 75% of my death benefit (my sister gets 25%) and would have about $275,000 to set himself back up in the US and get on with his life.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’m not going to do anything stupid, don’t worry.  I just fucking feel terrible right now.