Thursday, July 7, 2011

4:30 in the morning

4:30 in the morning and have given up on going to sleep. The brain rushes make it absolutely impossible, even with a vicodin to try to help me. I am terrified to drink alcohol, because of my weight gain, but my diligence in avoiding sugar was to no avail. I woke up for the second straight morning with a thick, white furry discharge on my tongue. That, and the cramping in my legs, convinced me that yes, all this extra fat, as well as the grossly enlarged, tender breasts are the result of an estrogen blast--all designed to make me pleasing to whatever satanic rapists have dibs on me this month. I couldn't feel more sexy than if I were Jabba the Hut. No one can imagine how miserable I am in this female, fat body. I pray for death, but if that doesn't happen, radical surgery will. I can't live in this body. No way.

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