I need someone to take me in their arms and tell me everything is going to be okay. That I won’t always hate myself, I won’t be defined by the number on the scales, I’ll eat a muffin without fucking analysing it for two days. That I’m not a fat ugly beast because I’ve gained weight, that there’s more to me than my body, that things are going to look up. I need to know that I’ll go to university, stop thinking so god damn much, be able to go out without having a panic attack, be able to go shopping without wanting to cry when I see other girls, be able to get changed in front of the mirror, instead of in the dark. I need to hear that I won’t revert to starving everytime life doesn’t go perfectly, I won’t cry over a piece of toast, I’ll stop planning every second of my mundane day, I’ll be able to walk over bridges without wandering if it would hurt if I fell over the edge. I need to know that I haven’t lost my mind. I want someone to tell me that right now this isn’t me, I am not this person, that things will change. And I need them to make me believe it.
Monthly Archives: January 2008
I like this photo. It was taken in Canada, last Summer. I look happy, but believe me, I wasn’t. I was cold (hence the giant black hoodie) and freaking out about being confronted with a meal in front of everyone. In fact, I made an entry on here after that dinner, almost bragging about ordering a noodle salad but getting away with eating a few bites of lettuce. WELL DONE LUCILLE, look where it got you!
I went out in London last night, I got really drunk for the first time in months which was a nice release, even if I felt quite insecure and awkward. It’ll get easier, I hope. I have one confession, I restricted yesterday. I ate half a bowl of rice and half an apple, about 250 calories, but I certainly paid for it today with one bitch of a hangover and loaded up on carbs to refrain from vomiting. Pleasant.
I got upset about eating after 10pm tonight. I was hungry and convinced myself that I’d do it like I used to, just thoughtlessly have a snack and then brush it off. But its not that easy, if it was, then I wouldn’t be considered ill, right? I wish I could enjoy one meal without thinking ‘oh shit, I have to weigh myself!’ as soon as I’m finished. A good meal to me is one that does not affect the number. I am, quite literally, a slave to my scales.
They should be illegal, at least to help the crazy people of the world, like myself. I am well aware that a 4lb gain is not REAL WEIGHT, I hear ‘blah blah blah water weight’ all the time, but it doesn’t matter to me.
Increasing number = loss of control.
I wonder how much more interesting I’d be if I hadn’t become so consumed by food and not eating it.
I feel good today. Moving to London next week, I have an interview for a live-out nannying job in a couple of days, I’ve sorted out my treatment plan in London, which will be one session with a therapist and dietician a week, and I had a nice meal tonight which I’m not feeling to guilty about. For the first time in my life, things are changing and I’m embracing it, I don’t to feel like a little girl anymore. I’m 18. Its time to grow up.
I don’t have much to say this evening, I’ll just post photos instead
Some childhood photos
Me in my favourite teacup leggings!
I can just tell that I was a happy kid. This comforts me.
I took this a week before being admitted into hospital. Its the forest in our land, I used to run through this on an empty stomach in the morning, it wasn’t pleasant! Thats my mum and sister walking through it
Our hayfield. Always the fun part of my run, even if I ALWAYS fell over!
This is my old house and bedroom in London, god I miss it, even if it holds some very bad memories
Yes I am definitely not a clean-freak!
This is the birthday card my little sister made for me on my 17th, I love it so much it still hangs on my wall, even though there are some INCREDIBLY cringe-worthy photos of me on there!
Me and all my oldest friends in 2005. Yes I have pillarbox red hair. No, I don’t know why.
Quite clearly I used to have a slight problem with hyperactivity, haha
An amazing day
These all hold great memories.
And guess what? In every single one of these photos I weigh more than my dreaded target weight: 112.
That says it all, really.