The fact is, I felt like I was losing my mind. Seriously. I was going all the time, and couldn't pay attention to anything going on around me, I was desperately missing the person who I'm falling for, I would ramble, aimlessly in conversations, I didn't want to leave my house, I was breaking out into random (and bizarre) crying fits for no apparent reason, and I was completely over-reacting to EVERYTHING. In a nutshell, I was just a fucking mess.

Well, I still kind of am. But I'm getting better.

I was telling my doctor all this, and she says that my hormones are changing, and will keep changing if I continue losing weight, so I have to get used to this up-and-down thing for a while.

I was also talking to my best friend, and we realized, after I talked non-stop for 30 minutes, about 30 different subjects, that the stupid appetite suppressants (aka speed) my doctor put me on to drop my last 80 pounds before surgery were making me haywire. And, if you've known any tweekers, you'd understand. That's exactly how I felt. I've never done speed before, I had no idea diet pills would make me that fucking insane. I just knew my house was clean.

So, I quit taking them. Because I was tired of feeling unstable, and tired of feeling like my heart was going to race right out of my chest whenever I took it.

And, in the pill's defense, my issue with food has little to do with hunger anyway. I'm considering therapy again.

Fuck me, I'm sick of talking about food and weight. So I'm not going to.

Things with Scott (formerly Married Guy) seem to be going well. But it's frustrating to try and develop this relationship so far apart from one another. He talks of leaving Virginia, and living on the west coast, but he has a lot of things to take care of before that's going to happen. And, I'm not sure how much longer I can deal with this distance. It's hard to need someone, and not be able to be with them. He's coming back out here in a few weeks, and I think we need to have a talk about what, if anything, is going to happen for us.

I think I'm most frustrated that this is the most of myself that I've given to someone in so long, and he's 3000 fucking miles away.

But then, I wonder, if something inside of me wants to do this to myself, by choosing to fall for a man who's not available to me the way I want him to be. So that I can sit, and pine, and cry, and whine endlessly about it to my friends.

Jesus. I do need therapy.