Yesterday was fab - 60kcals in the morning, 450 burned during the gym and walking, 250 for tea, and a bit of Dairy Milk Whole Nut as a treat because I felt I'd done well and shoudn't feel guilty.
This morning I got up and launched into a full bowl of Special K, topped with museli, with a smoothie. What, like, 400kcals altogether? And then a piece of toast. Mum was so happy I was eating, she hugged me for a full on two minutes, and when I asked why she was so happy, she was like 'err.. it's good to eat'. This is her addressing my fucked up habits. I'm pleased.
I'm just eating. Eugh. We're having a mini party at work today, there will be cake and I will eat it. Tonight I'm watching a film with mum, there will be chocolate and wine and I will eat and drink it. For dinner it's lasagne (vegetarian, natch), and I will eat it, and no doubt the garlic bread, too. Might even have some Ben & Jerry's after it.
And tomorrow we're doing the dreaded going out for dinner. Oh fuck. It's to a posh place, too, that usually only have one vegetarian option that I wouldn't want (except last time - a stuffed pepper topped with mozzerella, which was heaven on earth) - maybe that's excuse enough, but probably not.
Annnnnnnd by Monday people will stop giving me 'oooh, her hip bones stick out' 'oooh, you can see her spine!' looks, and start giving me 'lol, what a bloated fat arse' looks. I'm like a non-purging bulimic.
I hate people staring at me. I now try to avoid all friends at lunchtimes, by going to the library, the shops, anything, because I hate the way they look at me and have started to make snidy comments. Does that girl ever eat anything? Is she not having lunch again? No I'm bloody well not, I have to do enough of that eating crap at home, and you honestly think I look like this by putting food in my body? Ha, yeah, right.