4 cups of salty salty water
Elevenses ginger bake
Handful of raspberries
Handfuls of blueberries
2 chocolate poptarts
1 custard cream
2 oreos
Bottle of diet ginger ale
Mushy peas
100g chicken
2 handfuls of broccoli
25ml gravy
Chocolate poptart
Bad day. Very bad day. Living in a huge mess. Saltwater flush didn't work... again. Fuck.
Wednesday, 4 February 2009
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
Missed week
Tuesday *
Breakfast:
2 eggs, scrambled
Two pieces of wholemeal toast
Binge:
Piece of fudge
10 tortilla chips
5 pieces of sushi
Punnet of cherries
2 glasses of pear cider
1 glass of white wine
2 pieces of raisin cinnamon toast with jam
Didn't get up in time for lunch and the day's plan was out of whack. Thinking about the rules I live by concerning food and how ridiculous they are after discussing them in therapy and felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me; like someone had proved my religion was bollocks and not given me anything new to believe. Still, no matter how ridiculous they are, they are 100% ingrained in my mind. I picked at some leftover binge and then tried to make some kind of makeshift meal of sushi, cherries and alcohol (plus toast when drunk). It feels like so many rules to get rid of all at once. "Only eat once a day" was a hard one to crack and I need some time to take each one down a brick at a time.
Wednesday (died hair purple, blue, pink and green and hate it)*
Breakfast:
25g crunchy nut cornflakes
2 handfuls of blueberries
150ml skimmed milk
Lunch:
2 handfuls of baby spinach
3 rashers of back bacon
8 almonds
6 segments of grapefruit
Tea:
Muller corner with cherries
125g steak
can of carrots
Floret of broccoli
Sploosh of gravy
Breakfast was great although a little soggy. Lunch was nice but grapefruit was a bit bitter. Dinner was the bee's knees :) although I had a full fat yoghurt rather than a low fat one and felt guilty. Dyed my hair and it took all night (and I hate it).
Thursday*
Breakfast/lunch/middle of day snacking:
4 pieces of cinnamon toast with jam
Small binge:
3 chocolate fingers
lamb moussaka
potato salad
1/2 bag of kettle chips
2 glasses of pear cider
Up too late for breakfast (2pm) and had toast. Milled around cleaning and thinking about bingeing. I hate my hair. HATE HATE HATE. SO MUCH. I looked in the mirror and just thought "Fuck, I'm too old for this, I look ridiculous". My eyebrows look huge too and plucking is taking all day to get right. I have a horrible heache. Kept dinner under 1500 so the day under 2000 so not too guilty and trying really hard to stop vomiting. Trying not to all out binge because the rules say I'm 'allowed'.
Friday (went crazy/haircut/died hair ginger):
Hate hair
Breakfast/lunch/up too late for either:
2 mini bhajis
2 mini vegetable samosas
Crazy binge:
3/4 bag of nachos
12 Werther's toffees
Half a bar of cadbury caramel
A cheese twist
Mini cinnamon whirl
Mini maple pecan pastry
7 Scampi
8 onion rings
Hate my hair, tried to fix it by dying it my natural light auburn and it went bright orange on one side and faded pink on the other and looks horrendous. My hair is a car wreck. Sam cut my hair and it's really short and obviously newly cut and I just want to scream. I saw a picture of Robin's hair (a half and bad picture in the dark) but it looks way better than this disaster. FUCK. MY stomach is so bloated I look pregnant and Simon asked if I was sticking it out on purpose. I want to die right now, I want nothing more; not recovery, not love, not food, death.
Saturday (dyed hair red)*
Went home to get some stuff in the afternoon
10 almonds
1 banana
2 handfuls of blueberries
120ml glass of skimmed milk
Slice of wholemeal toast
150g can of baked beans
Nectarine
5 pieces cadbury caramel
Werther's toffee
10 after eights
1 tree chocolate
BLT
Cheese twist
10 koala mini chocolate biscuits
Bite of shepherd's pie
Bottle of low calorie ginger ale
Half a garlic bread
Simon has been cleaning out his room and I needed some more stuff now I have space to put it here so I went to get it. Ran into my mum (unplanned) and ended up in a huge fight where I told her how self-centred, hypocritical and insane she is and how I can't stand living with her and I'm trying to move out. I cried, she was a bitch as usual. I took my stuff and seriously freaked out because I had planned to sneak in and avoid the conflict until I had planned how to say it nicely/calmed down. I went straight to Tesco and ate myself into a sugar coma and kept it down because I needed the horrible fullness and guilt to distract me. Redyed my hair and it looked alright(ish) now but still too short. GROW DAMN IT!
Sunday*
6 grapefruit segments
25g strawberry crisp
150ml skimmed milk
4 1/2 pieces of sushi
An apple
Handful of raspberries
Handful of blueberries
Chicken teriyaki noodles
Bottle of Bulmer's pear cider
Hungry but bloated from yesterday so kept in check.
Monday
Drumstick lolly
Few bites of iced finger
Few bites of meat and potato pie
Few bites of chocolate doughnut
2 iced fingers
2 1/2 plates of chinese food
Cherry bakewell
Bowl of mandarin segments
2 glasses of diet coke
Half a fishbowl of exotic passion
Piece of belgian chocolate cake
Sam's birthday so spent the day shopping and nibbling with her. Her huge breasts wouldn't fit properly in any clothes and she cried and I felt so helpless. I spent the time she had to go to college shopping for a dress for he to go out in and found the perfect one which cheered her up no end. I also bought her favourite food (iced fingers). I was feeling pretty good until the college lady rang me and said that there is no way I can just do A2 because the exams have changed so I will have to do AS again then A2 so that's another two years at college, retaking something I already passed with As. FUCK FUCK FUCK. Then the jobcentre called to find out my living situation and whether I had any income and I don't know if you've ever had a woman call you up and say "Just to check that you have no permanent address or income? I just wanted to make sure you were, in fact, a homeless loser. Good, alright, thanks, byeee". So when Sam suggested all you can eat buffet I was like HELL YES and rushed to eat until I physically couldn't push any more down, vomited, pushed more down, vomited, pushed more down, vomited and cried for about twenty minutes. Later got dressed up and went out drinking with Sam for her birthday and the chefs were checking us out which was cool. I thought I knew the way to Wetherspoons but I didn't and was drunk and lost in the snow so luckily we were so drunk it was hilarious. We took a couple of pictures of my new red hair and I look hideous and hate myself. The only good thing that happened today was I bought a tshirt and a dress in size six that fit beautifully which was good news (although the jeans with waist 32" (size 16 equivalent) were snug). My waist is up half an inch which blows :/.
Today*
4 glasses of warm saltwater
Jack daniels and coke
11 chocolate fingers
2 chicken thighs
BLT
3 after eights
3 chocolate pop tarts
Tried the saltwater flush and it didn't work. It tasted like shit and I did everything I was meant to which really pissed me off. Therapy (not another appointment for 2 weeks) was alright but still no new rules. I just took a laxative and will try the SWF again tomorrow in the morning and will FUCKING work. Grrrrrr.
Breakfast:
2 eggs, scrambled
Two pieces of wholemeal toast
Binge:
Piece of fudge
10 tortilla chips
5 pieces of sushi
Punnet of cherries
2 glasses of pear cider
1 glass of white wine
2 pieces of raisin cinnamon toast with jam
Didn't get up in time for lunch and the day's plan was out of whack. Thinking about the rules I live by concerning food and how ridiculous they are after discussing them in therapy and felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me; like someone had proved my religion was bollocks and not given me anything new to believe. Still, no matter how ridiculous they are, they are 100% ingrained in my mind. I picked at some leftover binge and then tried to make some kind of makeshift meal of sushi, cherries and alcohol (plus toast when drunk). It feels like so many rules to get rid of all at once. "Only eat once a day" was a hard one to crack and I need some time to take each one down a brick at a time.
Wednesday (died hair purple, blue, pink and green and hate it)*
Breakfast:
25g crunchy nut cornflakes
2 handfuls of blueberries
150ml skimmed milk
Lunch:
2 handfuls of baby spinach
3 rashers of back bacon
8 almonds
6 segments of grapefruit
Tea:
Muller corner with cherries
125g steak
can of carrots
Floret of broccoli
Sploosh of gravy
Breakfast was great although a little soggy. Lunch was nice but grapefruit was a bit bitter. Dinner was the bee's knees :) although I had a full fat yoghurt rather than a low fat one and felt guilty. Dyed my hair and it took all night (and I hate it).
Thursday*
Breakfast/lunch/middle of day snacking:
4 pieces of cinnamon toast with jam
Small binge:
3 chocolate fingers
lamb moussaka
potato salad
1/2 bag of kettle chips
2 glasses of pear cider
Up too late for breakfast (2pm) and had toast. Milled around cleaning and thinking about bingeing. I hate my hair. HATE HATE HATE. SO MUCH. I looked in the mirror and just thought "Fuck, I'm too old for this, I look ridiculous". My eyebrows look huge too and plucking is taking all day to get right. I have a horrible heache. Kept dinner under 1500 so the day under 2000 so not too guilty and trying really hard to stop vomiting. Trying not to all out binge because the rules say I'm 'allowed'.
Friday (went crazy/haircut/died hair ginger):
Hate hair
Breakfast/lunch/up too late for either:
2 mini bhajis
2 mini vegetable samosas
Crazy binge:
3/4 bag of nachos
12 Werther's toffees
Half a bar of cadbury caramel
A cheese twist
Mini cinnamon whirl
Mini maple pecan pastry
7 Scampi
8 onion rings
Hate my hair, tried to fix it by dying it my natural light auburn and it went bright orange on one side and faded pink on the other and looks horrendous. My hair is a car wreck. Sam cut my hair and it's really short and obviously newly cut and I just want to scream. I saw a picture of Robin's hair (a half and bad picture in the dark) but it looks way better than this disaster. FUCK. MY stomach is so bloated I look pregnant and Simon asked if I was sticking it out on purpose. I want to die right now, I want nothing more; not recovery, not love, not food, death.
Saturday (dyed hair red)*
Went home to get some stuff in the afternoon
10 almonds
1 banana
2 handfuls of blueberries
120ml glass of skimmed milk
Slice of wholemeal toast
150g can of baked beans
Nectarine
5 pieces cadbury caramel
Werther's toffee
10 after eights
1 tree chocolate
BLT
Cheese twist
10 koala mini chocolate biscuits
Bite of shepherd's pie
Bottle of low calorie ginger ale
Half a garlic bread
Simon has been cleaning out his room and I needed some more stuff now I have space to put it here so I went to get it. Ran into my mum (unplanned) and ended up in a huge fight where I told her how self-centred, hypocritical and insane she is and how I can't stand living with her and I'm trying to move out. I cried, she was a bitch as usual. I took my stuff and seriously freaked out because I had planned to sneak in and avoid the conflict until I had planned how to say it nicely/calmed down. I went straight to Tesco and ate myself into a sugar coma and kept it down because I needed the horrible fullness and guilt to distract me. Redyed my hair and it looked alright(ish) now but still too short. GROW DAMN IT!
Sunday*
6 grapefruit segments
25g strawberry crisp
150ml skimmed milk
4 1/2 pieces of sushi
An apple
Handful of raspberries
Handful of blueberries
Chicken teriyaki noodles
Bottle of Bulmer's pear cider
Hungry but bloated from yesterday so kept in check.
Monday
Drumstick lolly
Few bites of iced finger
Few bites of meat and potato pie
Few bites of chocolate doughnut
2 iced fingers
2 1/2 plates of chinese food
Cherry bakewell
Bowl of mandarin segments
2 glasses of diet coke
Half a fishbowl of exotic passion
Piece of belgian chocolate cake
Sam's birthday so spent the day shopping and nibbling with her. Her huge breasts wouldn't fit properly in any clothes and she cried and I felt so helpless. I spent the time she had to go to college shopping for a dress for he to go out in and found the perfect one which cheered her up no end. I also bought her favourite food (iced fingers). I was feeling pretty good until the college lady rang me and said that there is no way I can just do A2 because the exams have changed so I will have to do AS again then A2 so that's another two years at college, retaking something I already passed with As. FUCK FUCK FUCK. Then the jobcentre called to find out my living situation and whether I had any income and I don't know if you've ever had a woman call you up and say "Just to check that you have no permanent address or income? I just wanted to make sure you were, in fact, a homeless loser. Good, alright, thanks, byeee". So when Sam suggested all you can eat buffet I was like HELL YES and rushed to eat until I physically couldn't push any more down, vomited, pushed more down, vomited, pushed more down, vomited and cried for about twenty minutes. Later got dressed up and went out drinking with Sam for her birthday and the chefs were checking us out which was cool. I thought I knew the way to Wetherspoons but I didn't and was drunk and lost in the snow so luckily we were so drunk it was hilarious. We took a couple of pictures of my new red hair and I look hideous and hate myself. The only good thing that happened today was I bought a tshirt and a dress in size six that fit beautifully which was good news (although the jeans with waist 32" (size 16 equivalent) were snug). My waist is up half an inch which blows :/.
Today*
4 glasses of warm saltwater
Jack daniels and coke
11 chocolate fingers
2 chicken thighs
BLT
3 after eights
3 chocolate pop tarts
Tried the saltwater flush and it didn't work. It tasted like shit and I did everything I was meant to which really pissed me off. Therapy (not another appointment for 2 weeks) was alright but still no new rules. I just took a laxative and will try the SWF again tomorrow in the morning and will FUCKING work. Grrrrrr.
Monday, 26 January 2009
Period
Yesterday:
Breakfast:
120ml pineapple juice
25g crunchy nut cornflakes
150ml of skimmed milk
Lunch:
5 pieces of sushi
2 nectarines
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Tea:
Chicken teriyaki stir fry with rice noodles
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Extra:
Another bowl of stir fry
More cups of tea with skimmed milk
Breakfast and lunch were alright although the sushi was a little hard to stomach. I spent a lot of time watching supersize vs super skinny where it says the skinny people eat about 1000-1300 a day. AS IF! AS IF! Serious doubt right here. I made seven portions of stir fry so I could freeze some because I always end up throwing the extra from the packets away (noodles and vegetables etc) because they come in such big packs. I spent a large part of the night calculating the calories in the diet I'm doing and it's just under a thousand a day which is fine. The day in question, however had only around 800 and since the teriyaki is only 239 per bowl, I ate the portion that wouldn't fit into my fridge and didn't feel too guilty. I also figured that I'd rather eat 239 calories of "acceptable" calories than resist and binge during the night on "unacceptable" calories. I got no sleep until about 11 a.m today after breakfast; partially because of a sharp chest pain that felt like my heart was flipping and twisting something and partially because my bowels were killing me.
Breakfast:
2 handfuls of blackberries
10 almonds
Low fat rhubarb yoghurt
Half a glass of skimmed milk
Half a cup of tea with skimmed milk
I then slept until 5 p.m and when I woke up, it was too late for lunch, too early for dinner and my uterus felt like it was being hit with a brick. Hello Mr. Viscious Period! Chocolate craving shortly followed and as did the binge.
Binge:
Jam doughnut (half of two)
Almond croissant
3 Jammy dodgers
Handful of tortilla chips
2 pieces of Burnt Sugar fudge
Mini Lindt Bunny
Spoonful of 'light' potato salad
7 oven baked onion rings
4 fish fingers
4 glasses of tropical soda
Some more cups of tea with skimmed milk
Major purge. Watched Super Slim Me and currently trying to find The Truth About Size Zero. I have become addicted to these documentaries. In comparison to the subjects in them, my weight doesn't correspond to my size (in inches) which is weird. Bloody discrepancies. Bloody period. Bloody hell.
Breakfast:
120ml pineapple juice
25g crunchy nut cornflakes
150ml of skimmed milk
Lunch:
5 pieces of sushi
2 nectarines
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Tea:
Chicken teriyaki stir fry with rice noodles
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Extra:
Another bowl of stir fry
More cups of tea with skimmed milk
Breakfast and lunch were alright although the sushi was a little hard to stomach. I spent a lot of time watching supersize vs super skinny where it says the skinny people eat about 1000-1300 a day. AS IF! AS IF! Serious doubt right here. I made seven portions of stir fry so I could freeze some because I always end up throwing the extra from the packets away (noodles and vegetables etc) because they come in such big packs. I spent a large part of the night calculating the calories in the diet I'm doing and it's just under a thousand a day which is fine. The day in question, however had only around 800 and since the teriyaki is only 239 per bowl, I ate the portion that wouldn't fit into my fridge and didn't feel too guilty. I also figured that I'd rather eat 239 calories of "acceptable" calories than resist and binge during the night on "unacceptable" calories. I got no sleep until about 11 a.m today after breakfast; partially because of a sharp chest pain that felt like my heart was flipping and twisting something and partially because my bowels were killing me.
Breakfast:
2 handfuls of blackberries
10 almonds
Low fat rhubarb yoghurt
Half a glass of skimmed milk
Half a cup of tea with skimmed milk
I then slept until 5 p.m and when I woke up, it was too late for lunch, too early for dinner and my uterus felt like it was being hit with a brick. Hello Mr. Viscious Period! Chocolate craving shortly followed and as did the binge.
Binge:
Jam doughnut (half of two)
Almond croissant
3 Jammy dodgers
Handful of tortilla chips
2 pieces of Burnt Sugar fudge
Mini Lindt Bunny
Spoonful of 'light' potato salad
7 oven baked onion rings
4 fish fingers
4 glasses of tropical soda
Some more cups of tea with skimmed milk
Major purge. Watched Super Slim Me and currently trying to find The Truth About Size Zero. I have become addicted to these documentaries. In comparison to the subjects in them, my weight doesn't correspond to my size (in inches) which is weird. Bloody discrepancies. Bloody period. Bloody hell.
Saturday, 24 January 2009
Binge without purge
Feeling icky.
Breakfast:
50g of porridge oats made into porridge with water
2 handfuls of blueberries
Lunch:
50g of tzatziki
10 carrot batons
20 cucumber sticks
Low fat rhubarb yoghurt
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Hideous feeling of a huge void in my soul swallowed me and I just didn't want to move at all. I didn't want to eat or sleep or drink or go out or stay in or smoke or fuck or....... anything. I just wanted to die. I don't want my life anymore. I need a fucking lifeboat here. I want to be a normal eighteen year old girl, in her second year of college, out on a Friday night with her friends, on the pull or drunk or something, maybe with a Saturday job in the morning, who fights a little with her dad about the length of her skirt or the dishwasher, who has problems like an essay or a squabble with a friend. I want normal. I'm so tired.
So I had planned a salmon steak with avocado and salad but I couldn't fill the void with that.
I spent about ten minutes shouting 'I need to eat something now, now, now and now, and now, now, now' like a little child. It was just too much. Much much much.
'Tea':
Elevenses ginger bake
Handful of blueberries
Cheese twist
3 pieces of sushi
7 oven baked onion rings dipped in tzatziki
Glass of diet iron bru
3 cups of tea with skimmed milk
And I held off the purge. What the fuck? I didn't think this would happen but I actually held it off. It wasn't too bad and since the rest of the day was according to plan it was almost 'alright'. Simon held me down on the bed though so that might have been a factor in not purging :P. I also made him follow me to the bathroom (since I really needed a piss) so he would know if I did.
Hahaha. It's a weird high to be in control of that. Most of the time I feel so crazy out of control; it's so inevitable to compensate. Somehow I convinced myself not to. I suppose it's not that bad since the day isn't over 2000 by much, if at all.
Breakfast:
50g of porridge oats made into porridge with water
2 handfuls of blueberries
Lunch:
50g of tzatziki
10 carrot batons
20 cucumber sticks
Low fat rhubarb yoghurt
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Hideous feeling of a huge void in my soul swallowed me and I just didn't want to move at all. I didn't want to eat or sleep or drink or go out or stay in or smoke or fuck or....... anything. I just wanted to die. I don't want my life anymore. I need a fucking lifeboat here. I want to be a normal eighteen year old girl, in her second year of college, out on a Friday night with her friends, on the pull or drunk or something, maybe with a Saturday job in the morning, who fights a little with her dad about the length of her skirt or the dishwasher, who has problems like an essay or a squabble with a friend. I want normal. I'm so tired.
So I had planned a salmon steak with avocado and salad but I couldn't fill the void with that.
I spent about ten minutes shouting 'I need to eat something now, now, now and now, and now, now, now' like a little child. It was just too much. Much much much.
'Tea':
Elevenses ginger bake
Handful of blueberries
Cheese twist
3 pieces of sushi
7 oven baked onion rings dipped in tzatziki
Glass of diet iron bru
3 cups of tea with skimmed milk
And I held off the purge. What the fuck? I didn't think this would happen but I actually held it off. It wasn't too bad and since the rest of the day was according to plan it was almost 'alright'. Simon held me down on the bed though so that might have been a factor in not purging :P. I also made him follow me to the bathroom (since I really needed a piss) so he would know if I did.
Hahaha. It's a weird high to be in control of that. Most of the time I feel so crazy out of control; it's so inevitable to compensate. Somehow I convinced myself not to. I suppose it's not that bad since the day isn't over 2000 by much, if at all.
Friday, 23 January 2009
Binge prevention/delay
Breakfast:
6 grapefruit segments
2 small slices of dry wholemeal toast
Nibble of boiled egg
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Woke up about 9 and Simon made breakfast, although he undercooked the egg and only a bite or two were edible. I was looking forward to shopping like a little kid; I've been waiting for a long time to spend a little of my wages on dresses in a smaller size and taking some pictures of me and Sam spending some quality time. I pampered myself yesterday and was ready to look the best I can (whatever that may be).
Lunch:
125g jacket potato
75g of tuna in brine
5 chunks of pineapple
5 small red grapes
4 slices of kiwi
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
It was watery and horrible but I ate every bite. The fruit burned my tongue in a weird way. Ick. Pointless meal. Sam text me and said she could only do an hour so no shopping but coffee or fried chicken or something. I'm trying not to drink milk as much and didn't feel like getting herbal tea so I waited for Sam (who was twenty minutes late) and went to Nero but bought nothing. I was planning to go shopping on my own when she had to go but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I went to the young persons' advice centre to find out about incapacity or housing or something until/during college since the pattern of bingeing to relieve the stress of living at home is clear and if I can move out it will help. I feel extremely guilty about it though because my mother is struggling financially and wants me to contribute to the household costs and new costs for keeping me like council tax etc and if I leave she'll have no one to help with the payments. On the other hand, the amount of money she's asking is pretty much the price of living somewhere else and I hate living at home so why pay some huge amount for this horrible stress? The centre helped me claim something or other and put me on the list for supported lodging. Apparently, there's a scheme where students live with members of the public and housing benefit pays the lodging thing. Sounds alright. Hopefully it will work out. By this time, I was feeling pretty shit. Stuck at home, the trip I'd been looking forward to cancelled, seeing Sam for less than an hour, no new clothes and mushrooms for dinner :/. Eurgh. I was dying for a binge. Literally, dying slowly inside. Simon picked me up and we went back to his house. I was itching all over for binge binge binge.
Tea:
2 large mushrooms
2 slices of lowfat cheese
Handful of chopped spring onion
Half a can of ratatouille
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
It tasted like nothing. I hated it. Every mouthful was bland and unfulfilling. I needed something to stuff my face with. I needed to throw it up. I needed it so badly. I went home and immediately the craving got about 40 times worse. It turned midnight and I just knew immediately I was going to binge the day away. I held it off by persuading myself I could go to Chinese All You Can Eat Buffet for lunch. I tossed and turned for five hours of absolute torture but fuck, was I proud of myself :P.
Breakfast:
2 handfuls of blueberries
1 greenish banana
Half a glass of skimmed milk
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Lunch:
2 plates of chinese food (2 rostis, 3 pieces of fried chicken, forkful of rice, forkful of noodles, 3 pieces of beef; satay, stirfried, 6 pieces of chicken; kung po, sweet and sour, satay, spring roll, piece of cantonese pork, piece of szechuan pork, forkful of ham foo yung, piece of baby sweetcorn)
Cherry bakewell
Bite of jam tart
2 glasses of diet coke
Purge in the bathroom of the chinese.
After eating it all, I was fit to burst but hesitating from purging just imagining my counsellor's face when she saw I'd been sick. I felt strong enough to hold it off; almost. While I was trying to dissuade myself, Simon said something that pushed me over the edge. He didn't say it on purpose, so he says, but it hurt enough to break my resolve. I think someone came in and heard and left and coming back out of the bathroom I felt watched. I felt like whoever it was just knew. Like they'd seen my soul. Anyway, got back to my house and started tidying my room which is a bombsite. Just being in my room at the moment is like a metaphor for my head, there is shite everywhere and I feel dirty just sitting on the bed. Plus there is hidden vomit in a bucket under the bed. The hidden vomit... eep. Simon went out with a female friend alone to the cinema.... eep. I tried to clean my room and it was so slow and depressing I ended up looking in the mirror every few minutes and hating every second. I look huge. My bottom half is so wide; my thighs and arse and stomach. Fuck, I thought I was thinner but I look the same. 26 inch exactly around the middle. My weighing scales tell me I am either 8 stone 8 or 9 stone 4/5. So fuck knows, I'd like to believe the lower but I suspect it's the higher. Simon came back and we went to buy tomorrow's food (back on the diet) and binge food. I put the binge food in the trolley and I had an uncertain ten minutes loitering by the counter wondering whether to put it back or not which is amazing progress where usually I would be rushing to the counter and rushing home without a second thought. I just felt like it wasn't enough though, even though I have come far with this being the second week. Anyway,
Binge:
Plate of onion rings
Spoonful of tzatziki
Half a bowl of spaghetti shapes and sausages (half because it was horrible)
3 cinnamon raisin biscuits
200ml chocolate fudge brownie ice cream
Two glasses of diet iron bru
Purge.
All the ice cream came back up. I love ice cream for purging, I wish I liked it more :P. I watched some teen movie and spent between 12 and 5 am tidying my bedroom. It is now tidied, but more than that, I have thrown away my high school yearbook, all the birthday cards and postcards and notes I've saved from old friends. Finally. It feels weird. I threw away the picture of me and my old boyfriend from my mantle and got rid of my full length mirror. Later today, I will sort out my clothes and take the unwanted/outgrown/undergrown to the charity shop. I had a cigarette in my newly tidy room because my mum is with her boyfriend this weekend and won't be here to tell me off for it. I'm going to watch the rest of twelve angry men and then get some shut eye. Roll on tomorrow.
6 grapefruit segments
2 small slices of dry wholemeal toast
Nibble of boiled egg
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Woke up about 9 and Simon made breakfast, although he undercooked the egg and only a bite or two were edible. I was looking forward to shopping like a little kid; I've been waiting for a long time to spend a little of my wages on dresses in a smaller size and taking some pictures of me and Sam spending some quality time. I pampered myself yesterday and was ready to look the best I can (whatever that may be).
Lunch:
125g jacket potato
75g of tuna in brine
5 chunks of pineapple
5 small red grapes
4 slices of kiwi
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
It was watery and horrible but I ate every bite. The fruit burned my tongue in a weird way. Ick. Pointless meal. Sam text me and said she could only do an hour so no shopping but coffee or fried chicken or something. I'm trying not to drink milk as much and didn't feel like getting herbal tea so I waited for Sam (who was twenty minutes late) and went to Nero but bought nothing. I was planning to go shopping on my own when she had to go but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I went to the young persons' advice centre to find out about incapacity or housing or something until/during college since the pattern of bingeing to relieve the stress of living at home is clear and if I can move out it will help. I feel extremely guilty about it though because my mother is struggling financially and wants me to contribute to the household costs and new costs for keeping me like council tax etc and if I leave she'll have no one to help with the payments. On the other hand, the amount of money she's asking is pretty much the price of living somewhere else and I hate living at home so why pay some huge amount for this horrible stress? The centre helped me claim something or other and put me on the list for supported lodging. Apparently, there's a scheme where students live with members of the public and housing benefit pays the lodging thing. Sounds alright. Hopefully it will work out. By this time, I was feeling pretty shit. Stuck at home, the trip I'd been looking forward to cancelled, seeing Sam for less than an hour, no new clothes and mushrooms for dinner :/. Eurgh. I was dying for a binge. Literally, dying slowly inside. Simon picked me up and we went back to his house. I was itching all over for binge binge binge.
Tea:
2 large mushrooms
2 slices of lowfat cheese
Handful of chopped spring onion
Half a can of ratatouille
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
It tasted like nothing. I hated it. Every mouthful was bland and unfulfilling. I needed something to stuff my face with. I needed to throw it up. I needed it so badly. I went home and immediately the craving got about 40 times worse. It turned midnight and I just knew immediately I was going to binge the day away. I held it off by persuading myself I could go to Chinese All You Can Eat Buffet for lunch. I tossed and turned for five hours of absolute torture but fuck, was I proud of myself :P.
Breakfast:
2 handfuls of blueberries
1 greenish banana
Half a glass of skimmed milk
Cup of tea with skimmed milk
Lunch:
2 plates of chinese food (2 rostis, 3 pieces of fried chicken, forkful of rice, forkful of noodles, 3 pieces of beef; satay, stirfried, 6 pieces of chicken; kung po, sweet and sour, satay, spring roll, piece of cantonese pork, piece of szechuan pork, forkful of ham foo yung, piece of baby sweetcorn)
Cherry bakewell
Bite of jam tart
2 glasses of diet coke
Purge in the bathroom of the chinese.
After eating it all, I was fit to burst but hesitating from purging just imagining my counsellor's face when she saw I'd been sick. I felt strong enough to hold it off; almost. While I was trying to dissuade myself, Simon said something that pushed me over the edge. He didn't say it on purpose, so he says, but it hurt enough to break my resolve. I think someone came in and heard and left and coming back out of the bathroom I felt watched. I felt like whoever it was just knew. Like they'd seen my soul. Anyway, got back to my house and started tidying my room which is a bombsite. Just being in my room at the moment is like a metaphor for my head, there is shite everywhere and I feel dirty just sitting on the bed. Plus there is hidden vomit in a bucket under the bed. The hidden vomit... eep. Simon went out with a female friend alone to the cinema.... eep. I tried to clean my room and it was so slow and depressing I ended up looking in the mirror every few minutes and hating every second. I look huge. My bottom half is so wide; my thighs and arse and stomach. Fuck, I thought I was thinner but I look the same. 26 inch exactly around the middle. My weighing scales tell me I am either 8 stone 8 or 9 stone 4/5. So fuck knows, I'd like to believe the lower but I suspect it's the higher. Simon came back and we went to buy tomorrow's food (back on the diet) and binge food. I put the binge food in the trolley and I had an uncertain ten minutes loitering by the counter wondering whether to put it back or not which is amazing progress where usually I would be rushing to the counter and rushing home without a second thought. I just felt like it wasn't enough though, even though I have come far with this being the second week. Anyway,
Binge:
Plate of onion rings
Spoonful of tzatziki
Half a bowl of spaghetti shapes and sausages (half because it was horrible)
3 cinnamon raisin biscuits
200ml chocolate fudge brownie ice cream
Two glasses of diet iron bru
Purge.
All the ice cream came back up. I love ice cream for purging, I wish I liked it more :P. I watched some teen movie and spent between 12 and 5 am tidying my bedroom. It is now tidied, but more than that, I have thrown away my high school yearbook, all the birthday cards and postcards and notes I've saved from old friends. Finally. It feels weird. I threw away the picture of me and my old boyfriend from my mantle and got rid of my full length mirror. Later today, I will sort out my clothes and take the unwanted/outgrown/undergrown to the charity shop. I had a cigarette in my newly tidy room because my mum is with her boyfriend this weekend and won't be here to tell me off for it. I'm going to watch the rest of twelve angry men and then get some shut eye. Roll on tomorrow.
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Missed a day and didn't notice
Yesterday was therapy day and I got up just in time to make it there. She went through my eating plan and wasn't disappointed like I thought she would be which was nice. I asked her about the 7 day diet and she said as long as I have a balanced breakfast, lunch and tea, it's fine so I am doing that now. With added cups of tea with skimmed milk. We then talked about the "why I ate what I ate" section, where it was clear to see that I binged as soon as I got home until I left again. Blindingly obvious and I still didn't see it until she pointed it out. We talked about my mum for a while and somehow got onto the subject of my dad. I then told her all about him and cried for the rest of the session. Blah. She said I shouldn't weigh myself at all but we settled on once every three days for now.
By the time I got home, it was at least 4.30 and I had missed lunch, plus the fact that I planned to start the 7-day diet the day after so fuck it, right? I had also spent most of the appointment crying and needed to bury the feelings again. A pack of salt and vinegar snack-a-jacks, a double decker bar and a small sloppy guisseppe pizza which I bought to share with Simon who promptly fell asleep while I devoured it. Later, after also falling asleep and awakening again, we went to get the food for the morning (specific 7-day plan food) and since it wasn't quite midnight, I had a bite of quiche lorraine and a southern fried chicken wrap. Washed down with flavoured water, I fended off the purge by insisting that we went straight away to Simon's in the car (40 minutes at least).
So far today, I've been on a pamper mission. I've shaved my legs and painted my nails and dyed my roots and soon will be straightening my hair and putting all my earrings back in. I've been watching Starship Troopers, Jekyll and Jonathan Creek... oh and the finale of Buffy. Tomorrow is the raincheck for the shopping trip and I want to look my best for the pictures. Even though Nick has deleted me so who am I showing how good I look? No pictures of Robin's hair yet but she said in a comment it's really short now. Giggle.
I'm thinking of dying my hair red and blue, but I might leave some of it white. Red, white and blue for the patriotic win? I'll decide tomorrow.
Quick food note:
17g of Cornflakes
3 handfuls of blackberries
150ml skimmed milk
Two handfuls baby spinach leaves
6 grapefruit segments
8 almonds
3 rashers of bacon
Sirloin steak with garlic and chilli
Can of salted carrots
Fat free rhubarb yoghurt
4 cups of tea (at a guesstimate since I don't limit)
Satisfying enough to prevent a binge and meticulous enough for my OCDed nature. Hungry though. 7lbs in as many days? We'll see.
By the time I got home, it was at least 4.30 and I had missed lunch, plus the fact that I planned to start the 7-day diet the day after so fuck it, right? I had also spent most of the appointment crying and needed to bury the feelings again. A pack of salt and vinegar snack-a-jacks, a double decker bar and a small sloppy guisseppe pizza which I bought to share with Simon who promptly fell asleep while I devoured it. Later, after also falling asleep and awakening again, we went to get the food for the morning (specific 7-day plan food) and since it wasn't quite midnight, I had a bite of quiche lorraine and a southern fried chicken wrap. Washed down with flavoured water, I fended off the purge by insisting that we went straight away to Simon's in the car (40 minutes at least).
So far today, I've been on a pamper mission. I've shaved my legs and painted my nails and dyed my roots and soon will be straightening my hair and putting all my earrings back in. I've been watching Starship Troopers, Jekyll and Jonathan Creek... oh and the finale of Buffy. Tomorrow is the raincheck for the shopping trip and I want to look my best for the pictures. Even though Nick has deleted me so who am I showing how good I look? No pictures of Robin's hair yet but she said in a comment it's really short now. Giggle.
I'm thinking of dying my hair red and blue, but I might leave some of it white. Red, white and blue for the patriotic win? I'll decide tomorrow.
Quick food note:
17g of Cornflakes
3 handfuls of blackberries
150ml skimmed milk
Two handfuls baby spinach leaves
6 grapefruit segments
8 almonds
3 rashers of bacon
Sirloin steak with garlic and chilli
Can of salted carrots
Fat free rhubarb yoghurt
4 cups of tea (at a guesstimate since I don't limit)
Satisfying enough to prevent a binge and meticulous enough for my OCDed nature. Hungry though. 7lbs in as many days? We'll see.
Monday, 19 January 2009
The Day Of Irrational Anger
Couldn't sleep... again. Finally caught a day nap and woke up in time to catch lunch. I put out a can of tuna, a handful of cucumber and 4 mushrooms and 4 radishes and ate about half. I had no lettuce or tomatoes left in the whole house :/. I didn't put any salt on it because I'm trying not to bloat any more before shopping tomorrow. Each day I look fatter even though I'm losing weight. Eurgh. I could only stomach half of it before I let my dog eat the rest of the tuna and threw out the leftover vegetables. It tasted of nothing, was gritty in texture and I could hardly be bothered to chew it I was so disinterested in eating. I ate because it's in my 'plan'. I fought with Simon and flew off the handle over not very much at all. Went shopping to buy noodles for dinner and hair dye and came back to find my mother had used up all the other ingredients while I was gone. Off the handle again and calming down in bed. Cooked the food after Simon went back to the shop to rebuy the ingredients.
Sam called me and said she's feeling too bloated and has not lost enough weight to want to go shopping tomorrow (in celebration of finally getting paid). Thank fuck. Not that I didn't want to go. I really did, but I have felt so angry all day that I am dying for a b/p. Ate the teriyaki stir fry and then four cookies and a finger of a Drifter chocolate bar. Some diet lemonade and we have a purge. Lovely :/
I looked through my "handy jotter" in which I had to write my food for the week day by day. I've vomited 4 out of 7 days. Oh dear. 4 out of 8 if you count the day I got it but didn't write in. I really don't want to see the look on Sue's face tomorrow when I show her my 'progess'. I suppose it is a long way to come in one week from vomiting daily to once every other day. I have tried. Hard. I hope she can see that. I'm so disappointed in myself. I really thought I would do better. I'm going to show Sue the '7lbs in 7 days' diet and see what she thinks. Probably won't approve. I can try. Bollocks.
I have another stone at least to lose and I want it gone now. At UK size 8-10 and 9 st 6 and 5"4, I'm not overweight but I look it whenever I look in the mirror/window/patio door. I'm on the reasonably thin side of normal. I'm not sick thin but there are hints of rib and hip bone and spine and chest bones. I'm not sure why it's still not enough.
Sam called me and said she's feeling too bloated and has not lost enough weight to want to go shopping tomorrow (in celebration of finally getting paid). Thank fuck. Not that I didn't want to go. I really did, but I have felt so angry all day that I am dying for a b/p. Ate the teriyaki stir fry and then four cookies and a finger of a Drifter chocolate bar. Some diet lemonade and we have a purge. Lovely :/
I looked through my "handy jotter" in which I had to write my food for the week day by day. I've vomited 4 out of 7 days. Oh dear. 4 out of 8 if you count the day I got it but didn't write in. I really don't want to see the look on Sue's face tomorrow when I show her my 'progess'. I suppose it is a long way to come in one week from vomiting daily to once every other day. I have tried. Hard. I hope she can see that. I'm so disappointed in myself. I really thought I would do better. I'm going to show Sue the '7lbs in 7 days' diet and see what she thinks. Probably won't approve. I can try. Bollocks.
I have another stone at least to lose and I want it gone now. At UK size 8-10 and 9 st 6 and 5"4, I'm not overweight but I look it whenever I look in the mirror/window/patio door. I'm on the reasonably thin side of normal. I'm not sick thin but there are hints of rib and hip bone and spine and chest bones. I'm not sure why it's still not enough.
Sunday, 18 January 2009
Just bloody super
Bed at 7 a.m and waking at 3 p.m to find an empty space in the bed next to me was a little disorientating. Simon didn't answer my calls or text and I had missed the coffee date catch up of an old aquaintance; luckily we had arranged to meet at his house so he wasn't too put out. I had woken up too late for lunch and so my plan was all skew wiff and I gave up on it completely; my major weakness. 2 slices of jam on toast, a bite of chocolate, a cup of tea, a bottle of diet lemonade and half a 'salt and pepper mixed starter' preceeded a vomiting session in my room into a bucket which is now under the bed. I didn't want to miss the break in half ton son and my mother was walking around the house ( I say walking but it's probably more like prowling) and I couldn't be bothered with her hearing me. Simon finally came through and came back saying he'd been taking his mum shopping or something. 2 cauliflower cheese grills, 2 cups of tea and a huge mug of hot chocolate left an even bigger hole in my sanity for the day plus an uncomfortably full stomach.
I fought the rest of the evening with my mother who says that I have to claim incapacity and give it to her to live here because she's financially unstable, and that her new boyfriend (who she's reclaimed) thinks I'm a rude bitch and that she agrees and that although she knows I'm going through a tough time (!) it's no excuse. I went for a walk and a cigarette but it didn't make me feel much better, surprisingly.
This book about addiction is sort of scaring me. It says that an addict will become addicted to lots of things and should quit them all at once; no drinking, no smoking, no weed, no anything. Not smoking? But.... but.... but I like it. No drinking? Ever? I'm definitely not addicted to that. Hmm.
My ex-boyfriend (who I was/am sort of addicted to, however much I'd like to deny it) has deleted me from facebook with no warning. Just like him and I'm trying not to react abusively as I'm sure he'd love. His new fiance (my ex friend who he swore he was not at all attracted to) did not. Did I mention I used to be insanely jealous of her and their friendship? She represented the idea that a woman could be feminine and 'cool' with her tattoo and piercing and coloured hair playing off so well against her curves and red lipstick. She's the epitomy of a 'feminine shape' with long blonde hair and an airhead personality to go with it (since discovered). I used to use her as my reason not to starve/binge/purge/overexercise. Why? Because she is at least 3/4 dress sizes bigger than me and I still thought she looked attractive; a previously unprecedented feat. And now my Bulimia has progressed to this dangerous extent? I find her repulsive; she is so fucking fat! She is a fucking whale for sure. This scares me in the sense that I have clearly gotten a lot worse but also helped me to care a lot less when they got 'engaged'; which incidentally is so fucking ridiculous that I laughed for half an hour when I found out (literally :P). Now she has 'new, fabulous hair' and I want to see it. I want her to have chopped all her lovely, feminine, blonde locks off and be the fat, ugly whore she undoubtedly is. Unfortunately, sometimes when I look in the mirror now I do see the piercing I have that matches hers, or the similar stretcher, or the fact that I love she shop she works in, or the fact she's enamoured with my favourite band or the white blonde hair I've got now and I see me playing at being her. Playing at being a woman and failing miserably. I feel like a short, ugly, fat little mess who will never be 'cool' or 'womanly'; just destined to be my high school self forever and that frightens me more than anything. I know there are sides to me she'll never have. A brain, for one. And my sci-fi side, and my clumsy, cute side and my many other talents and beauties which currently escape me. Ick. I feel dirty and obsessive.
I've decided that tomorrow will be my last day like this. I'm cutting and dying my hair, buying new clothes, cleaning my room out and starting to take control. I'm sick of being helpless. I'm sick of being a mess. I'm sick of being wrecked and full and empty and sick and jealous and angry and tired and lonely and trapped. I want out. Even if it means killing Robin or Nick or my mother or father or shedding 40 pounds or never smoking another cigarette in my life.
I fought the rest of the evening with my mother who says that I have to claim incapacity and give it to her to live here because she's financially unstable, and that her new boyfriend (who she's reclaimed) thinks I'm a rude bitch and that she agrees and that although she knows I'm going through a tough time (!) it's no excuse. I went for a walk and a cigarette but it didn't make me feel much better, surprisingly.
This book about addiction is sort of scaring me. It says that an addict will become addicted to lots of things and should quit them all at once; no drinking, no smoking, no weed, no anything. Not smoking? But.... but.... but I like it. No drinking? Ever? I'm definitely not addicted to that. Hmm.
My ex-boyfriend (who I was/am sort of addicted to, however much I'd like to deny it) has deleted me from facebook with no warning. Just like him and I'm trying not to react abusively as I'm sure he'd love. His new fiance (my ex friend who he swore he was not at all attracted to) did not. Did I mention I used to be insanely jealous of her and their friendship? She represented the idea that a woman could be feminine and 'cool' with her tattoo and piercing and coloured hair playing off so well against her curves and red lipstick. She's the epitomy of a 'feminine shape' with long blonde hair and an airhead personality to go with it (since discovered). I used to use her as my reason not to starve/binge/purge/overexercise. Why? Because she is at least 3/4 dress sizes bigger than me and I still thought she looked attractive; a previously unprecedented feat. And now my Bulimia has progressed to this dangerous extent? I find her repulsive; she is so fucking fat! She is a fucking whale for sure. This scares me in the sense that I have clearly gotten a lot worse but also helped me to care a lot less when they got 'engaged'; which incidentally is so fucking ridiculous that I laughed for half an hour when I found out (literally :P). Now she has 'new, fabulous hair' and I want to see it. I want her to have chopped all her lovely, feminine, blonde locks off and be the fat, ugly whore she undoubtedly is. Unfortunately, sometimes when I look in the mirror now I do see the piercing I have that matches hers, or the similar stretcher, or the fact that I love she shop she works in, or the fact she's enamoured with my favourite band or the white blonde hair I've got now and I see me playing at being her. Playing at being a woman and failing miserably. I feel like a short, ugly, fat little mess who will never be 'cool' or 'womanly'; just destined to be my high school self forever and that frightens me more than anything. I know there are sides to me she'll never have. A brain, for one. And my sci-fi side, and my clumsy, cute side and my many other talents and beauties which currently escape me. Ick. I feel dirty and obsessive.
I've decided that tomorrow will be my last day like this. I'm cutting and dying my hair, buying new clothes, cleaning my room out and starting to take control. I'm sick of being helpless. I'm sick of being a mess. I'm sick of being wrecked and full and empty and sick and jealous and angry and tired and lonely and trapped. I want out. Even if it means killing Robin or Nick or my mother or father or shedding 40 pounds or never smoking another cigarette in my life.
Saturday, 17 January 2009
The day the binge monster came to town
After the midnight hot chocolate, I got to 3 a.m without submitting to the building binge urge. Then a late night trip to Tesco was in order to put me out of my misery, having already 'decided' the day was lost. An elevenses ginger bake bar, a small chocolate Lindt bunny, two slices of cinnamon raisin toast with jam, four crisps, a bottle of diet limeade and a violent purge later, I didn't feel tired at all. I didn't feel even slightly sleepy until 6 a.m and don't know when I fell asleep. Waking up every couple of hours, I got up at 5.20 to feel Simon shuddering into a hypo. Fucking diabetics. Always trying to die. In my bed. Cock. It was a particularly horrible episode; he wouldn't stop shaking even when I forcefed him sugar by the spoonful. Needless to say, seeing Simon nearly dying and not being able to stop it, I panicked considerably and screamed for my mother. Pouring juice and milk with more sugar dissolved in it did the job after about fifteen minutes of his violent shaking and inability to swallow. Sugar and milk spilled all over my bed and while my mother was 'helping' all she could talk about were the sheets; how messy they were and how I had better clean them or there'd be hell to pay. While Simon was dying. Grr.
Half six (ish), when Simon was alright to drive again, another trip to Tesco yielded a cheese twist, a mini pork pie and ingredients for cherry pie. Two slices of garlic sausage, a mouthful of cookie dough, a quarter of a bowl of cherry pie with cream and a bottle of diet limeade followed by a monster purge gave a comforting black hole of numbness to almost end the day. The purge was a significant percentage more liquidy than usual and I got everything up. I mean everything, and all the mucus in my nose and even my tears seemed to taste of proper vomit; the uncontrolled kind that infects you and makes you carry the stench for a long time. Usually, I can still taste the binge food on the way up but I think the cream made for a bad day and I could only taste acid and bile the whole time :/. A couple of hours later, I ate four slices of toast (3 with pate and 1 with jam) without purging. Yay me? Or was I just afraid of being reinfected after vigorous washing?
The episode of Buffy where her mother dies had me crying the entire hour. Pathetic much? Or emotionally taxing watching Simon having a fit? And arguing with him about his stupid eating patterns afterward for a long time and getting nowhere.
I looked up Overeaters Anonymous and the nearest one is either Lancaster or Manchester. I might go but maybe I'll wait until later in therapy? I've been reading a book about addiction and addictive tendencies (including eating disorders) and it's approach is quite interesting. Maybe I'll be fighting this genetic predisposition for my entire life; however short it may be.
Half six (ish), when Simon was alright to drive again, another trip to Tesco yielded a cheese twist, a mini pork pie and ingredients for cherry pie. Two slices of garlic sausage, a mouthful of cookie dough, a quarter of a bowl of cherry pie with cream and a bottle of diet limeade followed by a monster purge gave a comforting black hole of numbness to almost end the day. The purge was a significant percentage more liquidy than usual and I got everything up. I mean everything, and all the mucus in my nose and even my tears seemed to taste of proper vomit; the uncontrolled kind that infects you and makes you carry the stench for a long time. Usually, I can still taste the binge food on the way up but I think the cream made for a bad day and I could only taste acid and bile the whole time :/. A couple of hours later, I ate four slices of toast (3 with pate and 1 with jam) without purging. Yay me? Or was I just afraid of being reinfected after vigorous washing?
The episode of Buffy where her mother dies had me crying the entire hour. Pathetic much? Or emotionally taxing watching Simon having a fit? And arguing with him about his stupid eating patterns afterward for a long time and getting nowhere.
I looked up Overeaters Anonymous and the nearest one is either Lancaster or Manchester. I might go but maybe I'll wait until later in therapy? I've been reading a book about addiction and addictive tendencies (including eating disorders) and it's approach is quite interesting. Maybe I'll be fighting this genetic predisposition for my entire life; however short it may be.
Friday, 16 January 2009
Chunky
Finally got home today. It was weird being at home again.
A few cups of tea, half a cheese salad, a piece of raisin toast with jam, a bowl of teriyaki beef with a handful of noodles and stirfry vegetables and an uneventful day later, here I am.
I rented a movie called Head Over Heels and planned to watch it with a big mug of hot chocolate; not technically part of my new plan but it was so close to twelve I thought it would be fine (not enough time for a full blown binge before "tomorrow" began). It got later than I thought and it was 00.02 by the time I settled down with the cup. Too late for my perfectly laid plan in which I could prevent the binge. It seemed such a waste; girly movie and hot chocolate ruined? So I went ahead anyway and now I feel really shite. It looks like today might be a binge day even though it's about 40 minutes old. Too late to throw up. This will be a bad day.
Today, I measured myself around the waist and I lost another quarter inch; 25 3/4 inches now :)
Great! Sam wants to go shopping the day she gets paid and try on clothes and "break the diet" and I'm dreading a weight gain even more than usual. That's seven days. 7lbs in 7 days? I'm trying to stop thinking about the diet. And the inevitable binge that is 'today'.
A few cups of tea, half a cheese salad, a piece of raisin toast with jam, a bowl of teriyaki beef with a handful of noodles and stirfry vegetables and an uneventful day later, here I am.
I rented a movie called Head Over Heels and planned to watch it with a big mug of hot chocolate; not technically part of my new plan but it was so close to twelve I thought it would be fine (not enough time for a full blown binge before "tomorrow" began). It got later than I thought and it was 00.02 by the time I settled down with the cup. Too late for my perfectly laid plan in which I could prevent the binge. It seemed such a waste; girly movie and hot chocolate ruined? So I went ahead anyway and now I feel really shite. It looks like today might be a binge day even though it's about 40 minutes old. Too late to throw up. This will be a bad day.
Today, I measured myself around the waist and I lost another quarter inch; 25 3/4 inches now :)
Great! Sam wants to go shopping the day she gets paid and try on clothes and "break the diet" and I'm dreading a weight gain even more than usual. That's seven days. 7lbs in 7 days? I'm trying to stop thinking about the diet. And the inevitable binge that is 'today'.
Thursday, 15 January 2009
I'm losing the days
They all seem to be melting together. I've been holed up in bed with Simon and 4 series of Jonathan Creek; surviving on cups of tea and cuddles. I don't want to go home, I've not been home since Sunday morning or even maybe Saturday night. My mother calls me every night to have a stilted conversation about whether I have something to say and how she's not seen me for a while. I just freeze up. I can't tell her anything real. It's all "fine", "okay", "love you too". Distinctly hollow. I didn't go home and will try again tomorrow. Shite.
Yesterday was dead on what I was supposed to eat; two salads, one with tuna, one with an egg and two pieces of toast. I was hungry but proud of myself.
Today was a little different when I changed tea to a stirfry and salt & pepper chicken with a handful of noodles. Roughly the same calories and content so kept it down. I cried in Tesco over that damn potato again. I went to buy one to go with the chicken and I couldn't bring myself to do it. That was part of the problem (a small part) that developed into this. When I was eating three meals a day (or as close to it as I can remember), I was forever thinking "I don't even like the taste of this. Why am I eating something I dislike eating when it's not doing me any good and is probably making me fat?" And so I stopped eating pasta and potato; shepherd's pie etc and everything my mother made (until she lost it and stopped doing anything). I saved my "calorie allowance" for things I liked the taste of; at night. This led to the night binges and day starves and has made it really hard to force myself to eat lunch again. Eating in daylight seems so wrong. So this potato is looming and I can almost feel the bland, dry tastelessness that is potato filling my mouth like cotton wool. I cried. I'm not ready for that yet. So noodles for today. In every sense.
Yesterday was dead on what I was supposed to eat; two salads, one with tuna, one with an egg and two pieces of toast. I was hungry but proud of myself.
Today was a little different when I changed tea to a stirfry and salt & pepper chicken with a handful of noodles. Roughly the same calories and content so kept it down. I cried in Tesco over that damn potato again. I went to buy one to go with the chicken and I couldn't bring myself to do it. That was part of the problem (a small part) that developed into this. When I was eating three meals a day (or as close to it as I can remember), I was forever thinking "I don't even like the taste of this. Why am I eating something I dislike eating when it's not doing me any good and is probably making me fat?" And so I stopped eating pasta and potato; shepherd's pie etc and everything my mother made (until she lost it and stopped doing anything). I saved my "calorie allowance" for things I liked the taste of; at night. This led to the night binges and day starves and has made it really hard to force myself to eat lunch again. Eating in daylight seems so wrong. So this potato is looming and I can almost feel the bland, dry tastelessness that is potato filling my mouth like cotton wool. I cried. I'm not ready for that yet. So noodles for today. In every sense.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Break down
I've been trapped at Simon's house practically all day because of a broken car battery. Did I mention that there is about one vegetable in this whole house? Sticking to my designated eating plan was totally impossible. The shop is absolutely miles away. The stress of imagining my counsellor reading my "what I ate" and seeing a blank page killed me and I'm ashamed to say I took it out on the boy with the broken car. He didn't help matters and soon we were stubbornly ignoring each other. Quite difficult when you consider we were in the same room.
So by the time the car was drivable again, my whole meal plan for the day was out the window; the sun had gone down long ago and 10pm was approaching fast.
4 slices of fruit toast, a cheese twist, a cup of tea and a copious amount of diet orangeade (and a purge) later, my recovery "eating sheet" for the day is looking even worse.
My mother called and I spent about ten minutes lying and telling her that me not being home was nothing to do with her. Another two slices of toast and three more cups of tea later, I still feel like a lying snake (i.e without a backbone). I just couldn't deal with another argument from her.
I called the college I attended last year and the admissions lady said she would set up a meeting with the headteacher but that they had turned away hundreds of people who wanted to continue to A2 this September already so not to get my hopes up. Shit. More pressure as the plans crumble.
I also read some girly magazines in an attempt at feminity since I have spent the most recent days reading World War Z (zombie survival book), watching the Die Hards and playing with Simon's toy guns when he's not looking. Well surprise, surprise, I think I'll be sticking to my "scifi boyish" phase because every other article is about "so and so's dramatic weight loss/gain/eating problem" and "lose xlbs in x days; it really works!". This one article says you can lose 7 inches in as many days and drop a dress size. I can't help but wonder where these inches are coming from. 7 inches from my waist would leave me at 19inches which is smaller than a double zero. So are these collective inches? And if so, which parts and how many places are they coming off? 2 from the breasts, 2 from the waist, 2 from the hips and one from the thighs? The more places on the list, the less actual loss of size. Specifics requested :/
I want to do this diet, I only have a stone and 3 pounds to lose. But then again, if I'm beginning the recovery trek then soon I'll be trying to stop wanting to lose weight and maybe I should try to stop now? And the eating plan I'll try to start tomorrow when I stick things out at home is no more than 800 calories a day; so maybe this deficiency will cause binges rather than prevent them? And what about exercise, at home I have dumbells and I can actually work out, not to mention walk the dog. But then again, that is another way for me to lose weight and burn off the calories in my prescribed "plan". So maybe it's as unhealthy to lose weight that way?
Oh dear. Today has been a bad day for recovery. Yes, indeed.
So by the time the car was drivable again, my whole meal plan for the day was out the window; the sun had gone down long ago and 10pm was approaching fast.
4 slices of fruit toast, a cheese twist, a cup of tea and a copious amount of diet orangeade (and a purge) later, my recovery "eating sheet" for the day is looking even worse.
My mother called and I spent about ten minutes lying and telling her that me not being home was nothing to do with her. Another two slices of toast and three more cups of tea later, I still feel like a lying snake (i.e without a backbone). I just couldn't deal with another argument from her.
I called the college I attended last year and the admissions lady said she would set up a meeting with the headteacher but that they had turned away hundreds of people who wanted to continue to A2 this September already so not to get my hopes up. Shit. More pressure as the plans crumble.
I also read some girly magazines in an attempt at feminity since I have spent the most recent days reading World War Z (zombie survival book), watching the Die Hards and playing with Simon's toy guns when he's not looking. Well surprise, surprise, I think I'll be sticking to my "scifi boyish" phase because every other article is about "so and so's dramatic weight loss/gain/eating problem" and "lose xlbs in x days; it really works!". This one article says you can lose 7 inches in as many days and drop a dress size. I can't help but wonder where these inches are coming from. 7 inches from my waist would leave me at 19inches which is smaller than a double zero. So are these collective inches? And if so, which parts and how many places are they coming off? 2 from the breasts, 2 from the waist, 2 from the hips and one from the thighs? The more places on the list, the less actual loss of size. Specifics requested :/
I want to do this diet, I only have a stone and 3 pounds to lose. But then again, if I'm beginning the recovery trek then soon I'll be trying to stop wanting to lose weight and maybe I should try to stop now? And the eating plan I'll try to start tomorrow when I stick things out at home is no more than 800 calories a day; so maybe this deficiency will cause binges rather than prevent them? And what about exercise, at home I have dumbells and I can actually work out, not to mention walk the dog. But then again, that is another way for me to lose weight and burn off the calories in my prescribed "plan". So maybe it's as unhealthy to lose weight that way?
Oh dear. Today has been a bad day for recovery. Yes, indeed.
Monday, 12 January 2009
A very strange day
I cried. Over. A potato.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck?
I regained an ounce of my sanity today. I can't believe I'm smiling after eating without purging. A shaky smile but a smile nonetheless.
So, my appointment was basically just a long questionnaire type assessment of my current state/habits and a plan to reintroduce regular times and 'safe foods' to eat. One of the questions in the list related to my level of anxiety towards being weighed and thank fuck... she didn't weigh me today :)
She said I definitely don't look anywhere near eleven stone though which was nice.
We negotiated foods and she gave me a diary I have to write in (what I ate, how I felt, if I purged). The only food I can usually keep down is green salad and tuna/egg. She said I have to add a slice of bread at lunch (!) which really made me tense. Tense? That was weird. It seems so ridiculous of me to be tense over a 90 calorie, carb and refined flour loaded piece of bread. But I felt like tearing my nails into my palm. It got worse. A small potato with tea. I cried. I need to be fucking sectioned. I fucking cried :/. The idea of consuming and keeping those carbs inside me was like POW. I felt disordered at that. It hit me hard in the stomach and made my eyes water; I couldn't pretend it was a diet gone wrong or a fitness kick any more. When you're crying over the idea of eating one small potato each day, you need professional help.
We also discussed dress size and why it matters. I don't know why it matters so much to me. The idea that I'll be happy when I'm thin is, in essence, ludicrous and as a smart girl I just wanted to beat myself over the head for being such a cunt. Oh, I'm a six and now I am ecstatically happy and all my problems have melted away? Illogical much? Fuck. Still, it will be around forever; magazines, tv, books, friends, life in general is full of how thin or fat women are. Success is made out to be a measure of size (inversely).
She also said something that hit me quite hard. The idea of eating a piece of bread and keeping it down means not feeling guilty (impossible). Yet, when I binge on carbs like cookies, pasta, crisps etc I am consuming more calories from those carbs that I can't get up anyway than I would have on the piece of bread that could have helped prevent it. The mind set is completely demented.
What will hereafter be referred to as "The Potato Tears" were somewhat of a wake up call. I really have lost all sense of reality and control. So I decided to pretend for a day that I am a normal person with normal habits. I am in control. I am I am I am I am I am I am. This almost justified the lack of a purge. I was also able to almost justify the slight binge with the fact that I am supposed to start my food diary tomorrow morning. Although if I lie, I'm only lying to myself so I still feel horribly guilty and know I'm full of bullshit.
So I ate a hamburger, a chicken burger, a cauliflower cheese grill and two chocolate biscuits with cups of tea. And I wasn't sick. Eep. Scary feelings surfacing right now. Ignoring the voice in my head is proving difficult. But still no vomit. I win, bulimia. I win. Today at least, I am in control.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck?
I regained an ounce of my sanity today. I can't believe I'm smiling after eating without purging. A shaky smile but a smile nonetheless.
So, my appointment was basically just a long questionnaire type assessment of my current state/habits and a plan to reintroduce regular times and 'safe foods' to eat. One of the questions in the list related to my level of anxiety towards being weighed and thank fuck... she didn't weigh me today :)
She said I definitely don't look anywhere near eleven stone though which was nice.
We negotiated foods and she gave me a diary I have to write in (what I ate, how I felt, if I purged). The only food I can usually keep down is green salad and tuna/egg. She said I have to add a slice of bread at lunch (!) which really made me tense. Tense? That was weird. It seems so ridiculous of me to be tense over a 90 calorie, carb and refined flour loaded piece of bread. But I felt like tearing my nails into my palm. It got worse. A small potato with tea. I cried. I need to be fucking sectioned. I fucking cried :/. The idea of consuming and keeping those carbs inside me was like POW. I felt disordered at that. It hit me hard in the stomach and made my eyes water; I couldn't pretend it was a diet gone wrong or a fitness kick any more. When you're crying over the idea of eating one small potato each day, you need professional help.
We also discussed dress size and why it matters. I don't know why it matters so much to me. The idea that I'll be happy when I'm thin is, in essence, ludicrous and as a smart girl I just wanted to beat myself over the head for being such a cunt. Oh, I'm a six and now I am ecstatically happy and all my problems have melted away? Illogical much? Fuck. Still, it will be around forever; magazines, tv, books, friends, life in general is full of how thin or fat women are. Success is made out to be a measure of size (inversely).
She also said something that hit me quite hard. The idea of eating a piece of bread and keeping it down means not feeling guilty (impossible). Yet, when I binge on carbs like cookies, pasta, crisps etc I am consuming more calories from those carbs that I can't get up anyway than I would have on the piece of bread that could have helped prevent it. The mind set is completely demented.
What will hereafter be referred to as "The Potato Tears" were somewhat of a wake up call. I really have lost all sense of reality and control. So I decided to pretend for a day that I am a normal person with normal habits. I am in control. I am I am I am I am I am I am. This almost justified the lack of a purge. I was also able to almost justify the slight binge with the fact that I am supposed to start my food diary tomorrow morning. Although if I lie, I'm only lying to myself so I still feel horribly guilty and know I'm full of bullshit.
So I ate a hamburger, a chicken burger, a cauliflower cheese grill and two chocolate biscuits with cups of tea. And I wasn't sick. Eep. Scary feelings surfacing right now. Ignoring the voice in my head is proving difficult. But still no vomit. I win, bulimia. I win. Today at least, I am in control.
Sunday, 11 January 2009
Ashamed and disgusted
I can't believe I'm about to write this but.... I have head lice. I'm still shuddering. I've pulled 14 live insects out of my hair and I'm almost in tears. I can't believe this. It's so fucking disgusting that I want to scream. My whole body is itching. I'm practically covered in nit lotion now so hopefully they'll be dead and gone in a few hours but I can't understand how this happened; I haven't had head lice since I was six.
My mother apologised for her behaviour yesterday and made me a cup of tea (with skimmed milk obviously) this morning. I weighed in at 9 stone 7.3 this morning before the tea or the bathroom. Not too bad. Not too good either :/.
I had a scalding hot bath and pretty much burned the top layer of my skin off. It was a nice release; a sort of slight self-harm. I felt clean though; so much for that. Fucking lice. I managed without eating until about 7 when I ate tuna salad a la yesterday as planned. Felt sick again but kept it down again and was pretty proud of myself.
My mother being completely unhinged and irrational, I decided to emigrate to Simon's house until things blow over. The only problem there is that since I'm there so little, I take it as an excuse to eat a lot whenever I am. It wasn't until after I chewed and spat into a plastic bag 6 flapjacks, 4 bags of chocolate animal biscuits, a bag of jelly beans, 6 lindors, 2 chocolate bars, a piece of fried chicken, a box of fried potatoes and a bag of vegetable crisps that I realised why I was so tense. I couldn't bring myself to binge quite so much in light of the steady work I'd been doing so far but I needed to chew something to stop thinking. I still haven't told the college in Bosnia that I'm not going back even though term restarts tomorrow. Everyone will be gossiping about it :/. Ick. I then ate (and swallowed) a quarter of a flapjack, a bag of chocolate animal biscuits and half a bag of chilli crisps. Add a bottle of sugar free lemon and lime and a significant purging session and I'm feeling a little less guilty and useless. Then I found the louse. Fuck's sake.
I think my recovery meeting might be tomorrow; if they weigh me after that binge I will cry. Fuck. And I close up whenever they ask me questions in therapy. It's all like "So what do you think is wrong?". Silence. They always seem able to trivialise all my problems in one sentence. "Well your inadequate diet is probably causing your 'low mood' and sleep problems."
What do they want me to say? Oh, really? Well I'll just go home and eat a regular, balanced diet, stop throwing up and all my problems will just go away. It's all so easy. I don't know why I didn't think of that before! You stupid, stupid fucking cunt. Or maybe it's not that? Maybe, as I have already explained, it was the depression that caused all this bullshit and not the other way around. Grr. When I have time to think about it, I can list things that I need to change about myself and that make me so unhappy, but on the spot I have nothing to say.
One of the things that makes me so lucky is Simon. The loneliness of bulimia has been lessened slightly by being able to binge and C&S in front of him. It's nice to know that even with this, he still wants to be around me. I sometimes feel that no one really knows me and if they saw everything they'd leave me. I don't think that even I know everything about me. I'm cut off; even from myself. I can't stand sex any more. The feel of hands on my body makes me cringe. It all feels wrong. I can't stand myself.
My mother apologised for her behaviour yesterday and made me a cup of tea (with skimmed milk obviously) this morning. I weighed in at 9 stone 7.3 this morning before the tea or the bathroom. Not too bad. Not too good either :/.
I had a scalding hot bath and pretty much burned the top layer of my skin off. It was a nice release; a sort of slight self-harm. I felt clean though; so much for that. Fucking lice. I managed without eating until about 7 when I ate tuna salad a la yesterday as planned. Felt sick again but kept it down again and was pretty proud of myself.
My mother being completely unhinged and irrational, I decided to emigrate to Simon's house until things blow over. The only problem there is that since I'm there so little, I take it as an excuse to eat a lot whenever I am. It wasn't until after I chewed and spat into a plastic bag 6 flapjacks, 4 bags of chocolate animal biscuits, a bag of jelly beans, 6 lindors, 2 chocolate bars, a piece of fried chicken, a box of fried potatoes and a bag of vegetable crisps that I realised why I was so tense. I couldn't bring myself to binge quite so much in light of the steady work I'd been doing so far but I needed to chew something to stop thinking. I still haven't told the college in Bosnia that I'm not going back even though term restarts tomorrow. Everyone will be gossiping about it :/. Ick. I then ate (and swallowed) a quarter of a flapjack, a bag of chocolate animal biscuits and half a bag of chilli crisps. Add a bottle of sugar free lemon and lime and a significant purging session and I'm feeling a little less guilty and useless. Then I found the louse. Fuck's sake.
I think my recovery meeting might be tomorrow; if they weigh me after that binge I will cry. Fuck. And I close up whenever they ask me questions in therapy. It's all like "So what do you think is wrong?". Silence. They always seem able to trivialise all my problems in one sentence. "Well your inadequate diet is probably causing your 'low mood' and sleep problems."
What do they want me to say? Oh, really? Well I'll just go home and eat a regular, balanced diet, stop throwing up and all my problems will just go away. It's all so easy. I don't know why I didn't think of that before! You stupid, stupid fucking cunt. Or maybe it's not that? Maybe, as I have already explained, it was the depression that caused all this bullshit and not the other way around. Grr. When I have time to think about it, I can list things that I need to change about myself and that make me so unhappy, but on the spot I have nothing to say.
One of the things that makes me so lucky is Simon. The loneliness of bulimia has been lessened slightly by being able to binge and C&S in front of him. It's nice to know that even with this, he still wants to be around me. I sometimes feel that no one really knows me and if they saw everything they'd leave me. I don't think that even I know everything about me. I'm cut off; even from myself. I can't stand sex any more. The feel of hands on my body makes me cringe. It all feels wrong. I can't stand myself.
Saturday, 10 January 2009
I woke up late today to a cup of tea with skimmed milk. After the 'eleven stone' debacle, I decided to buy a scale. It took me a bloody long time to find one in the huge expanse of Tesco and by the time I stepped on my new scales at home, I was already worked up. Turns out that this scale has suffered an attack of indecisiveness and can't choose which weight to tell me that I am. Variations were between 9 stone 8 to 10 stone dead on. Most commonly 9 stone 8.4. That's a loss of about 5 pounds this month which, considering the amount of bingeing and purging, is pretty amazing. 9 stone 5 is my next goal, then 9 stone then 8 stone 9 then 8 stone 5. My ultimate goal weight is 8 stone.
Just before I weighed myself, my mother called me into the front room to have a 'talk'. She broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago and has been crashing around the house ever since. She told me that if I don't do more work in the house I'll have to move out. She went on and on for half an hour about how I'm shitting all over her and she can't take it as I quietly cried. She started shouting and I went to my room. I couldn't handle her. She doesn't seem to understand that I've given up college and my freedom in a foreign country to recover because a part of me can see how important it is and will be for the rest of my life. It's been a horribly difficult decision and I should have flown out to Bosnia again tonight. Just sitting at home has been torture all day. I went to call Simon and found out that in some frenzy yesterday, my mother has thrown away all the phones in the house.
I ate a cup of shredded lettuce, three gherkins, a cup of chopped cucumber, half a spring onion and a small can of tuna in sunflower oil. I felt ill for about half an hour afterward but kept it down because it was in my plan for food today. A calming cup of tea later and would-be flight time was arriving. Anger and frustration rose up in me and an irresistable hunger screamed out. Eurgh. I had been doing so well that ruining it was such a horrific prospect. I felt like I was sitting on Pandora's box and all my feelings are about to come pouring out and drown everyone. The nearest thing to me was a bag of marshmallows.
Binge averted. I threw the marshmallows one by one out of the car window.
Another cup of tea later and I feel like I need to be tethered down. Like a kite. I need to change. I need to pretend everything is fine. Then maybe it will be fine. I want to move out but getting a job might seriously jeopardise any chances of me recovering properly. Working is so draining and I'm barely surviving as it is. I don't need this shit right now. This hypocritical shit from her is doing my head in; after her recovery from depression which took over a year of me looking after her, I can't take a month to recover without her saying I'm 'shitting all over her'. For fuck's sake, woman?
I'm so close to self-injury that I literally feel like screaming. I was in therapy all summer stopping cutting myself and now I'm relapsing. Shit. It's better than bingeing, I guess...
Just before I weighed myself, my mother called me into the front room to have a 'talk'. She broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago and has been crashing around the house ever since. She told me that if I don't do more work in the house I'll have to move out. She went on and on for half an hour about how I'm shitting all over her and she can't take it as I quietly cried. She started shouting and I went to my room. I couldn't handle her. She doesn't seem to understand that I've given up college and my freedom in a foreign country to recover because a part of me can see how important it is and will be for the rest of my life. It's been a horribly difficult decision and I should have flown out to Bosnia again tonight. Just sitting at home has been torture all day. I went to call Simon and found out that in some frenzy yesterday, my mother has thrown away all the phones in the house.
I ate a cup of shredded lettuce, three gherkins, a cup of chopped cucumber, half a spring onion and a small can of tuna in sunflower oil. I felt ill for about half an hour afterward but kept it down because it was in my plan for food today. A calming cup of tea later and would-be flight time was arriving. Anger and frustration rose up in me and an irresistable hunger screamed out. Eurgh. I had been doing so well that ruining it was such a horrific prospect. I felt like I was sitting on Pandora's box and all my feelings are about to come pouring out and drown everyone. The nearest thing to me was a bag of marshmallows.
Binge averted. I threw the marshmallows one by one out of the car window.
Another cup of tea later and I feel like I need to be tethered down. Like a kite. I need to change. I need to pretend everything is fine. Then maybe it will be fine. I want to move out but getting a job might seriously jeopardise any chances of me recovering properly. Working is so draining and I'm barely surviving as it is. I don't need this shit right now. This hypocritical shit from her is doing my head in; after her recovery from depression which took over a year of me looking after her, I can't take a month to recover without her saying I'm 'shitting all over her'. For fuck's sake, woman?
I'm so close to self-injury that I literally feel like screaming. I was in therapy all summer stopping cutting myself and now I'm relapsing. Shit. It's better than bingeing, I guess...
Friday, 9 January 2009
Running myself into the ground
A cup of tea with semi-skimmed milk started my day, along with the final four episodes of Heroes (volume three). Simon kept me in bed to 'appreciate my body' all day. At five, I got a sudden attack of claustraphobia and had to get out of the house. He moaned a little but agreed to drive me home. Rage and inexplicable depression hit me and I flew off the handle in the car when I couldn't roll a cigarette. My irritability was like a rash and it soon rubbed off onto him. It all left me alone at my house with my mother; who is, incidentally, in a foul mood and sparing no good feelings for me. Fifteen meatballs, 23 BBQ Pringles, 10 pieces of fusili, half a bag of chocolate coins, a chocolate egg, a bottle of diet orangeade and 15 minutes vomiting later, I feel hideously guilty and blank. I'm not sure if that's better or worse than what I felt before.
Live at the Apollo is on and Simon's come back now. Another cup of tea and I'm trying to dissect what went wrong. Why did I feel like that? Can I prevent it or deal with it better?
I tried to stick to Atkins these last five days; I only vomited once when I realised I'd eaten 150g of fat in one bowl. It was somehow too much for me to deal with and even though I tried to convince myself I didn't need to, I found myself over the toilet as usual. But for me, I thought I was doing well until I weighed myself at Simon's house yesterday. His scales told me I am 11 stone. That day I wore a UK size six in New Look. A size six and eleven stone? How the fuck does that work? So maybe his scales are broken or something but sizewise I haven't lost anything (still maintaing 26 inches around the waist) and I've been following Atkins almost to the letter. At an average of size eight already, I wasn't expecting to lose very much but nothing at all is clearly not enough. The disappointment broke my resolve and yesterday I ate 2 flapjacks, a bowl of cinnamon grahams with semi-skimmed milk, 3 jam doughnuts, half a bag of jellybeans, a cinnamon swirl, a bottle of diet ginger ale, a bottle of diet orangeade, two pieces of gala pie and a chicken kiev in less than an hour and spent a long fucking time in the bathroom afterwards. Deciding to change diet today, I think the spikes in blood sugar and massive carb overload after five days of Atkins were the main cause of my outburst.
I plan to begin a more rigorous exercise regime tomorrow and get back to a low calorie diet rather than a low carb diet. Fingers crossed.
My first appointment with Eating Disorder Network is in two days. They're going to weigh me. Shit. If I weigh eleven stone, I might spend the entire meeting crying. I've been trying so fucking hard. The questions about returning to college in the next few days and my plans for the future are making me uneasy; who wants to say they're taking time off to recover from an ED? How weak does that make me sound...
Shit. I feel like shit.
This is the very beginning of my first, stumbling steps to recovery and I wanted to record it just in case anyone else was contemplating, suffering or needing some solidarity.
Live at the Apollo is on and Simon's come back now. Another cup of tea and I'm trying to dissect what went wrong. Why did I feel like that? Can I prevent it or deal with it better?
I tried to stick to Atkins these last five days; I only vomited once when I realised I'd eaten 150g of fat in one bowl. It was somehow too much for me to deal with and even though I tried to convince myself I didn't need to, I found myself over the toilet as usual. But for me, I thought I was doing well until I weighed myself at Simon's house yesterday. His scales told me I am 11 stone. That day I wore a UK size six in New Look. A size six and eleven stone? How the fuck does that work? So maybe his scales are broken or something but sizewise I haven't lost anything (still maintaing 26 inches around the waist) and I've been following Atkins almost to the letter. At an average of size eight already, I wasn't expecting to lose very much but nothing at all is clearly not enough. The disappointment broke my resolve and yesterday I ate 2 flapjacks, a bowl of cinnamon grahams with semi-skimmed milk, 3 jam doughnuts, half a bag of jellybeans, a cinnamon swirl, a bottle of diet ginger ale, a bottle of diet orangeade, two pieces of gala pie and a chicken kiev in less than an hour and spent a long fucking time in the bathroom afterwards. Deciding to change diet today, I think the spikes in blood sugar and massive carb overload after five days of Atkins were the main cause of my outburst.
I plan to begin a more rigorous exercise regime tomorrow and get back to a low calorie diet rather than a low carb diet. Fingers crossed.
My first appointment with Eating Disorder Network is in two days. They're going to weigh me. Shit. If I weigh eleven stone, I might spend the entire meeting crying. I've been trying so fucking hard. The questions about returning to college in the next few days and my plans for the future are making me uneasy; who wants to say they're taking time off to recover from an ED? How weak does that make me sound...
Shit. I feel like shit.
This is the very beginning of my first, stumbling steps to recovery and I wanted to record it just in case anyone else was contemplating, suffering or needing some solidarity.
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