Well, what a weekend. A long, drunken, crazy weekend. My friends are bad influences on me!


I weighed myself this morning and I have lost 9 pounds in total since I "came back". To me, it's not enough but I guess I would feel that way even if i had lost 90 pounds.

I am thoroughly pleased with myself as I managed convince my whole group of friends last night that I am gluten intolerant. That means they won't question me when I say no to pizza which seems to be all they want to eat when we get together. They were all wolfing it down last night. I couldn't help but feel smug sitting there, watching them stuff their faces with greasy cheese laden crap.

My very best friend, 'C', is always complaining that she has put on weight and needs to lose a few pounds. Yet she is obsessed with food! Every single day, the first thing she will say to me when I see her is "where are we going for lunch?" and then proceeds to get a huge burger washed down with beer. We'll go to the supermarket to pick up some food shopping and she's all sausage rolls, crisps, frozen pizza's...urgh.
Maybe I should be thankful that she likes to stuff herself with that shit, because just seeing it is enough to put me off. It kinda get to me though. Don't fucking complain about being overweight, then eat all that shit! Have some self control, or at least don't moan to me about it.

I feel mean saying that, but to me it seems simple. The key to not turning into a fat slob = don't eat like a fat slob! Simple, no?
I really do love her dearly, but she makes not eating really difficult. I'll have planned a day as a fasting day, and suggest to her that we take my dog out for a long walk, "Cos the weather is so nice!" (nothing to do with burning calories ;) ) and her reply will be "Yeah! Then we should go for a pub lunch afterwards!"

Arghhhh.....So then I have to agree, otherwise she will get suspicious as to why I'm not eating again. And I have to sit there watching her stuff her face while I down pint after pint of ice water and pick at my salad. And she asks so many questions. "Why aren't you having salad dressing? Since when don't you like mayonnaise? Aren't you gonna get chips with it?"

If it carries on like this I'm gonna have to cut her off, she's fucking up my plans and I really don't fucking like my schedule being changed once I have already decided what I am and am not eating that day.

FUCK OFF! LET ME GET ON WITH IT!


My Mum is starting to question me about what I'm eating, so I'm making a point of having my meals when she's around, and getting them myself without her asking if I'm hungry. That should keep her off my back and she doesn't need to know that I didn't have breakfast or lunch/dinner. I never eat breakfast, I never did even when I was younger. It makes me feel sick. I am quite happy with my black coffee, thank you.

After reading and then re-reading all of my thinspo books, I decided I needed to add to my collection. "Anorexia: A stranger in the family" by Katie Metcalfe dropped through the front day today and I'm already halfway through. It's one of the better ones. She even included pictures of herself at her lowest weight, how thoughtful and considerate!

The weather has been beautiful the past few days, so I'm hoping it sticks around for tomorrow as it's my day off. Nice weather = great exercise opportunities. I could literally spend the entire day at one of the big parks walking and jogging with the dog. No one would suspect untoward in that. Let's just hope the friend doesn't try and drag me out for lunch again!

Any excuse to get out the house is good anyway because, get this : My mum took my Dad back.
She took him back!!
I don't think I can even put into words how angry I am, at both of them. Him, for the obvious reasons - I haven't spoken to him since, and I don't plan on talking to him again. He has put our family through so much shit in the past, and now he's old enough to be a grandad. He needs to fucking grow up once and for all, yet he's still putting the family through shit.

And I'm furious at my Mum for taking him back. For being such a victim, for letting him get away with it, for not protecting me and my sister from what he's like. Now we are both grown up, we don't need protecting, but I can't help but be pissed off that she didn't sort her fucking life out and get rid of him when we were kids.


I really think my Dad has contributed a lot to my eating "issues".