This isn't turning out to be a good week. I think I was mentally preparing to restrict this week anyway, because my mum is going away this weekend and I know I'll restrict. I ran for another 90 minutes this morning, so I'm already at nearly three hours in two days. I decided it'd be a good opportunity to try to burn everything I eat this week, again. I think I'll end up around a 800-900 average intake, so my burn will match accordingly. Yesterday I ate 900, and today 800. Tomorrow will probably be 800 too, as will Monday. Saturday and Sunday, however, I don't expect to be so high. I still ate 1,200 on Tuesday, but it'll all average down. I was pretty anxious about the weekend home alone, but I think I'm kinda just accepting it now.
I'm pretty sure my calf muscles growing again... I've upped my protein intake in the last couple of weeks (to actually include things like meat and eggs, not just dairy and 'incidental' proteins) and I think it's grown. I know I've been eating a lot more protein than I need to maintain my muscle... but fuck, it's still not that much. I get more than enough protein with just fruit & vege, grains, and a little dairy. It's not like I have much to maintain, so I guess it makes sense. Either way, I'm gonna talk to my dietician about it on Tuesday. She only works Tuesday & Thursdays, and it's too late to bother calling the clinic now. Que sera sera. But I still had a good old cry and scream, and scratched the fuck out of my tree-trunk leg. I nearly cut, but I get so squeamish with tendons and such, and even veins these days (I can see my pulse in at least 10 different spots in my body... four on the back of my hand alone, my stomach, even my neck... the list goes on). I had a bit of a heated discussion and a cry with mum, which is a more-often occuring thing. The other day it came up that she can't always give me the support I need, and I have no idea how to deal with that. When I'm crying and stressing and babbling in my armchair, and mum just ignores me, what am I supposed to do except lock myself in my room, cry, and think about how much happier everyone would be if I was dead? No one wants me around. No one can 'deal' with me. Maybe I should die.
I spent most of today in bed, again. I get up in the morning, drink a few coffees, have breakfast with mum, go for a run, have another coffee, and go to bed and smoke. On top of the depression, the weather is horrible. It's very windy, and it makes me constantly anxious and on-edge. We have 'destructive winds'. This morning I woke up to the porch swing in the yard having tipped over, as well as a few other things (it's a national disaster, right?). It's quite blustery and raining at the moment, too. I can't sit outside, so I'm either in the laundry or in bed. I hate how my body reacts to temperatures. Obviously, I have trouble with the cold. I wear, every day, fleece tights (or trackpants on lazy days), thermal socks, long-sleeved top, jumper, jacket, dressing gown, gloves. I always sit on the porch (or in the laundry at the moment), in an armchair underneath an electric throw blanket and two mink blankets. I always sit right in front of the heater in the lounge room, still in layers and blankets. Until the heater died last week. So, yes, I am very glad that winter has finished. But then I get heatstroke in the summer. I guess it makes sense - if my body can't keep the cold out, how should it keep the heat out? So then I need to sit in the shade and in front of fans (and then I freeze) and I get heatstroke. I can go from freezing to heatstroke in less than a frikkin' hour if it's a warm day. It just pisses me off how severely my body reacts to temperatures.
I'm pretty tired now. I've been exhausted all day. Lots of crying and screaming and hitting and scratching. I ate two fun-size chocolate bars this afternoon (within my 800) and hate myself for it. Mum's gonna hide them for me because she knows it's not a positive when it effects me this way. I'm gonna get so lonely this weekend when it's just me home.