Monster Update

Hey again everyone!

Sorry it’s taken me forever to post anything. I’ve been suffering majorly with my jet-lag (missed two extra days of work, boo!) and have now come down with a lovely little cold. My aunt was pretty sick at the same time I was in bed trying to recuperate and adjust to the time change (7 hour time difference =/) so I think she gave it to me. Either that or this is just my pussy immune system protesting against the sudden influx of cool, damp, gloomy weather after two solid weeks of hot sunshine.

First things first. My trip was awesome. I didn’t want to come back just yet, which is definitely saying something after the huge amount of trepidation I felt when the days were drawing closer and closer. The weather was amazing, a solid 25-31 degrees (Celsius of course) Every. Single. Day. It was not cloudy a single day or rainy or cold. At night it got a little cool but after the oppressive heat and sunshine glaring down all day, it was actually a nice reprieve.

My mother’s husband was no his best behaviour, and there was little to no drama at all while I was there, which I was very grateful for. Had I stayed another week or two, I think cracks would have appeared in the thin veneer he was wearing over his real face and personality, though.

I had two missions while I was there. One was to find a pair of cowboy boots to bring back with me. The other was to get a pair of nice black leather, block-heeled boots with rubber soles/traction, that I could use as winter boots over here. I used to have the perfect pair, bought back in my hometown circa… well, 5-7 years ago. And ever since I had to throw them away (when I first moved here, I was here for six months, then went back to Canada for 3 to pack the rest of my stuff and bring it over. I had to leave the boots there during the first stretch and while my family left them sitting in the entryway for six months, their cats peed on them and they reeked. I tried to wash and febreeze them, but no =[), I’ve been on the hunt for a decent replacement. England basically only sells three kinds of boots. Ugg style or generic flat ones, or skinny heels that should not be worn in winter in a city that is abundant with hills and which gets rain every other day, which then freezes in the winter. Sigh.

So, mission one was accomplished. My mom I guess told her husband that he was going to buy me some boots, and he appeared to have opted for the cowboy boots. So, my mom and I hit the mall, going to Lammles (western wear) and I found a nice black pair for around $130. Told my mother’s husband, and he started whining and complaining that we didn’t go to the Alberta Boot company, so when the weekend came he drove down there. I tried on a pair (he actually pointed them out and I liked them) and decided to get them. $300. All I can say is I’m glad I wasn’t buying because I doubt I’d have paid $300 for a pair of cowboy boots. They are super hot though. When I told D’s mom about it, she was like “oh god, why?” and I responded “I think he’s trying to suck up because he knows I don’t like him.” Even my mom knows, which she acknowledged at the airport after I had checked in and it was just she and I hanging around. My mom was like, well he’s not your father and you don’t like him but at least you only have to see him every once and a while and you don’t have to talk to him on the phone or anything when you’re not here, and you can let him buy you stuff when you’re here.

Lulz.

The other boots, however, were a total no-go. I hit at LEAST 20 different shoe stores (I am not even exaggerating) and couldn’t find anything. Lots of flats, tons of Ugg-style boots, and a billion spike-heels sans any traction. Sadface. In the end, D’s mom was dragging me to every shoe store and shoe outlet she knew of to try to find them, but it just didn’t happen. I found one pair that was suitable, but it was a final sale and they didn’t have my size. Fail!

Aside from that the trip was pretty generic. I mostly spent time with my two BFF’s, V and D, although separately. Highlights were:

· Meeting V’s friend for the first time (after V telling me how annoying she is) and then pointing out a trait that really bothered me – a trait V wasn’t aware of until I pointed it out. Then a couple days later getting a string of obscenity-laden text-messages telling me she couldn’t deal with this stupid person anymore and she was going crazy and wanted to kill herself and oh yeah, I just made it worse by pointing out another flaw.
· Staying up until 6 in the morning playing video games with V, and getting under 4 hours of sleep before having to head off for the lamest manicure from hell. A mutual friend from school bought V and I each a gift certificate to get a manicure and pedicure from a nail studio at the mall. So, we made time for that but told the people there that we wanted the mani but not the pedi (I think it’s a bit weird for strangers to be fooling around with my feet =/ ) so we got that done. It cost $19 to basically cut, file, and paint my nails pink. Yeah. Then I got to rush home to nap for two hours before I had to go over to D’s for the last time before I came back. Busy day!
· Toonie bowling with D, his brother and sister, and an old friend we both went to school with. We were struggling to come up with something to do and D’s sister H was on her phone looking for ideas. She came across a bowling alley that did Toonie Tuesday bowling (a Toonie, for those who don’t know, is the name of Canada’s $2 coin). So we went there, walked in, and found out you had to pay with Toonies. So for five of us we needed five Toonies instead of a ten dollar bill. Which we didn’t have. So we got to trek across the parking lot to Wal-Mart, where I picked up the cheapest thing I could find (a pack of gum for 87 cents) and proceeded to pay with a ten dollar bill and four quarters and asked for five toonies as my change. The cashier didn’t mind but I felt like a bit of a retard asking. I did explain the bowling situation though.
· Hanging out with V downtown and meeting up with a friend we went to high school with. Going for food (we shared 2 appetizers booya) and then trekking around Art Central looking at all the little stores. Wanting to buy everything at the vinyl toy store, and hanging out with one of the chicks who works there, who V had befriended before. Partaking in two kinds of wine there, including the most rancid red wine I’ve ever tasted (also the only red wine I’ve ever tasted) and the most amazing, sweet, and scrumptious white wine in the world! Then making our way to the First Annual block party, hosted by one of the big night clubs in my hometown. Downside is that they had to finish it off at 10pm due to the noise bylaws there, but it was still good times!
· Seeing my nephew!

My nephew is adorable, and he warmed up to me almost right away. At first he wasn’t too sure, when we went to pick him up from his mom, but by the time we got back to my mom’s house, he had fully accepted me, and plonked himself down in my lap to watch tv. My only regret is that I didn’t take enough pictures. I was planning to do a ton of photos the last day we had him, but his mom and my brother had a mediation dealy over custody and visitation on that day so I didn’t get to see him again before I left =[. So in total I had three 3-hour stints with him. Not enough!

It was really great reconnecting with D’s family, that was probably one of the best parts. I love V and she’s like family to me too, but I never lost touch or contact with her, we’re just the same as we always were, since I met her 8 years ago. But I grew up with D’s family, he’s been my best friend since we were like 6 years old, and his family is my family. Since I moved to the UK five years ago, I think I’ve only seen them once, so it was really really great seeing them again and reforming those bonds. Or at the very least, seeing those bonds again and realizing they never really wore away to begin with. His mom kept trying to talk me into moving back there, and I have to admit that part of me was tempted.

The whole time I was there was busy and fun and lively, and it was great. And it kind of made me feel that I’m wasting my life here in England. Over there, basically every day was full and I got to see some of the people I really love. Over here I have my aunts, my grandparents, and S… and that’s about it. But then I had to remind myself what it was like living with my immediate family, most notably my mother’s husband. And the fact that it’s almost impossible to get a job there. And having to contend with the winters! We’re talking up to NEGATIVE 50 degrees. But mostly, I had to remind myself that I was never really happy there. Going there now and being happy and enjoying myself is a direct result of finding myself, which only happened when I moved here. At times I still feel lost and confused and like I don’t know who I am, but I’ve come a far, far way from the person I was when I lived there full time, before I moved away. And that move is the best thing I’ve ever done in my life.

And of course, I could never up and leave and move away without my aunt. We’re a unit!

Holy Christ this is long. And I feel like I haven’t covered everything, but I’m not sure what else to say about the trip other than that it rocked. I’m going to make a more conscious effort to go back at least once a year for a three week visit. And maybe if I’m not going on any other trips (like Cancun this year), I’ll space it out and go twice? We’ll see!

As for food… the entire time I was there was basically a 16 day bingefest. When I came back, I was really jetlagged and barely ate and dropped at least a pound or two. My initial weigh in wasn’t accurate because although it was morning here, it was midnight back in Canada and I’d eaten a full day’s worth of food so my weight was all over. Still, only up 5lbs is a lot better than I was anticipating, even though it was only two weeks. This weekend was a baddish one… Friday we had fish and chips because we had my grandparents over so we could watch a football match together (my team won!). Saturday I had sushi out with S and then had a couple small things from a buffet at a wedding reception I had to go to, and a piece of (bad) wedding cake. And yesterday I had to go to my grandmother’s for a Sunday roast, and she piled on the veggies (though at least it was veggies and not fatty meats and pie or stuff).

Yet somehow, I’m still down around half a pound from Friday, so I can’t complain. I think maybe the two week binge kicked my metabolism in the teeth and got it raring up again, so now it’s still working hard to burn away what I am eating. Score! I better enjoy it while it lasts though because I doubt it’ll last long.

Anyway, this is really longwinded so I’m going to post it now and go get some work done. Let me know what you guys have all been up to while I’ve been away! I need to catch up on your blogs but it seems like so much so it might take a while to do. So drop me a comment to let me know how you’ve been and what you’ve been doing =]
Current weight, by the way: 209.8lbs. Still up from my start weight but there will be no more interruptions. I have three months to lose as much as I can for the beach. Countdown starts now!

Fighting

...hopefully NOT a losing battle.

I'm in full-on binge mode. I can feel it swelling up inside of me. I'm not even hungry but the need to eat and eat and eat is almost overwhelming. Earlier it was just "good" homemade food that I wanted but now I'm in a place psycholigically where it doesn't matter what the fuck it is.

So far I've been okay. I've had a couple of the very small brownies I brought in, and lots of water, and nothing else. But when I go home, there is food. And I'm in a mood where I almost want to make a huge batch of peanut butter cupcakes and then devour all two dozen of them.

I feel like a complete failure admitting this because, although last week's food was bad and couldn't technically be called a "binge" I guess (portion control wasn't TOO bad), I've only been restricting properly for ONE fucking day and I'm already a mess.

Part of me is telling me to just get it out of my system. To eat everything I want tonight, and then throw away EVERYTHING so that the ONLY food left in the house is my aunts'. But I don't want to be a failure before I've even really gotten into it. If I had been restricting and fasting for two weeks, I could understand the need to binge that's welling up inside of me, that's cresting over me like a fucking tsunami. But I haven't. I've had one meal a day for the past two weeks, and that one meal has NOT been restrictive. Somewhere between bingeing and restricting is where I'd been. I want to say "normal" but normal people eat more than once a day, right?

But the fact of the matter is, I've gained weight. I don't know how much but I'm estimating that I have put back on the 5lbs I lost the week before. I am planning to NOT step on the scale until Saturday morning, that hopefully whatever damage was inflicted will be undone by then. Because if I look at the scale and see 200 again I... just have no idea how I'd react. Even when I weighed in at 198 a couple of weeks ago, it was bad but damn it, it was under The Magic Number.

So the huge other side of me is screaming at me not to fuck up. To be GOOD for fucksakes. To understand that my body can not possibly be that hungry and starved of nutrients and calories and shit. And even if it IS, that's just a better oppourtunity to let it burn and enjoy the ride.

I've never felt like this before. I've had my bingey moments, don't get me wrong. But I've never felt it like THIS and I don't know how to react or what to do. I don't want to give in. And if I do, I will feel worse than I do right now. So is it worth it? No, it's not. But I'm sure you out there can appreciate that it's not always up to us what we do and don't eat. And I'm terrified of fucking up, of being unable to get myself under strict control. Why was it so easy before Birthday Madness? That first week back here was so easy. And before all the shittaliciousness that caused me to fall off, back in February, it was so easy.

So why is it so hard right now?

Usually my drive to eat, my inability to reign in the fat monster inside of me, is linked with stress. But I'm not stressed right now!

Since I moved here I never really forged any close friendships except with my ex, who turned out to be a monster douche. Now I've got a really close friendship with S and I love her. My working life is going amazingly well. I just got a raise so I can stop obsessing over my half-year review coming up in six weeks, because obviously my manager is damn happy with me! I'm going on two rock ass vacations before the end of the year. I'll get to see my best friends for the first time in three years, and then laze around in the sun in a four-star hotel on a beach in Cancun. In a few weeks I'm moving to a slightly bigger house in a much nicer neighbourhood - once my trips are paid off I can look into buying some stuff for my room, to make it My Space (not to be confused with the social networking 'site). There isn't a man in my life right now, but for the first time in a while I'm not actually depressed over that fact.

Everything in my life feels like it's slowly starting to fall back into place, that the pieces of the puzzle are slotting themself together and I'm feeling optimistic for the first time since I can't even remember when.

So why do I feel like I'm losing my shit?

It's not just the whole wanting to binge and sabotage myself. I feel like something contained deep down inside is fighting to come out. That its bonds are cracking at the seams and something is going to explode. I feel like I'm going crazy.

Give me strength girls. And thanks for listening.

Hypochondria

Again.

So... I'm not feeling as shitty as before. I am, however, depressed. I very nearly left work when I spoke to my aunt this morning because... Well I wanted to be with her and support her. And mostly to be there if her doctor calls back so I can get the information right then and there about what's going on. As much as my aunt is a worst-case-scenario type of person, so am I.

I once trapped a nerve in my forearm that caused my thumb to twitch of its own volition for three days. At the time I was convinced it was Parkinson's Disease and soon I would be incapable of reading a book for the constant involuntary swaying of my head.

Every migraine screams BRAIN TUMOUR... it doesn't help that my father's mom died of breast/brain cancer, either (there is some dispute as to whether it was brain or breast cancer. My aunt says my dad told her it was the former, my grandmother has it in her head that it was the latter and therefore nearly every time I see her she makes some comment about how I should be getting mammograms and why isn't my doctor doing it? blah fucking blah. I'm sorry, but if I did have cancer I'd rather just let it kill me than spend years of suffering trying in vain to fight it off. Maybe that's a bit cynical and nihilistic of me, but it's the truth. So many people live full happy lives, get sick, and die a week later from terminal, inoperable cancer. But so many more find out they have cancer and spend YEARS going through painful treatments that don't do anything other than prolong their life for another week, month, year, which is all the while filled with more of the same. But I'm getting entirely off topic, what the hell was I talking about?)

Oh yeah, hypochondria.

So, of course, the first thing that springs to mind when my aunt called this morning was "oh god her liver is shutting down and she's going to need a transplant oh god I hope we have the same blood and tissue types, she can have half of mine, oh fuck." Which I suppose I could say makes me a selfless person all, here, have half of my kidney, k? I'm deluding myself, it's entirely selfish. Because my life would suck if she wasn't here. But again, I'm digressing.

The thing is, there was really no point in going home because I know my aunt as well as I know myself, and right this minute I know what she is doing. The TV is tuned to NicToons or some other cartoon network - probably showing back-to-back episodes of Spongebob or Fairly Odd Parents, while my aunt dozes snoringly on the sofa until dinner is ready. This is how her life goes, especially when she's in the deeper throes of her depression, where she is currently regressing further and further into each day. So being at home to support her would result mostly in me sitting in my room boredly all afternoon while she slept.

So, I've stayed at work. I can't let myself overreact or I'll have a panic attack. My work is easy but it keeps me busy and I'll find out when she does what the problem is and what the final results are. Chances are high that it will be something fairly minor, and I shouldn't be stressing out. But stress is what I do best.

Did I mention I was convinced that I had a tumour or some kind of serious scar-tissue-damage in my ear when I finally made myself go to my doctor about my tinnitus? I had myself fully convinced it would need lots of surgery and I would go deaf anyway.

So yeah.

Instead, I'm depressed and stressing on my own, and when I'm depressed one of two things happens.

The first is what happened when my asshole cheating ex left me to marry an ugly fat whore, and that was to be so depressed that nothing in my life mattered at all, which meant constantly considering suicide and being one step away from doing it and wishing, praying without cease (EVER) that I would go to sleep and not wake up, or that I would grow a pair and have the balls to do something about it. Nothing mattered except spending my energy trying to will myself to death. Including food. I stopped eating almost entirely, and I lost 30lbs in a couple of months.

The second way I deal with depression is similar yet opposite. I completely lack energy for anything at all. I spend most of my time sleeping, even though I never feel rested. And I eat. I eat and then I sleep and then eat and then sleep some more, and do not care what it is that I am putting in my mouth.

Today, after I spoke to my aunt, I glared at the bag of grapes on my desk and stomped to the canteen to order food. I ate a large serving of cottage pie, which may or may not have been made using fake potatoes, and which I'm pretty sure had baked bean sauce in instead of gravy. It was disgusting but I ate it.

And now I feel sick and bloated and regretful. Today, well, it's just a bad day. We all have them, so I'm trying not to be too hard on myself. Tomorrow is a new day and I will not allow myself to fuck up.

I need to make a conscious decision to choose Option A over Option B. That starvation is always, always preferable to bingeing. Because I felt AMAZING. I still weighed around 170lbs at the time, but damn it, I felt... beautiful and attractive for the first time in months. And even though I was depressed and wanted with all my will and every fibre of my being nothing more than to die, at least I looked good.

So, minus the symptoms of depression and huge urge to try to kill myself, that is what I need to turn back to. Food only has the value that we put upon it ourselves. If the food is something we need to fulfill a craving to feel full and bloated, then fill up on water and black coffee and green tea and sugarfree jello. If it's a flavour we need, then have a bite and SAVOUR IT. If it's an emotional reponse, then turn those emotions into something more constructive. Like will power. Like self-hatred, if it helps motivate yourself. To a more creative output, like art or poetry.

Comfort eating is not what it is chalked up to be. Comfort eating does not comfort me in the slightest, and I just wind up pissed off and more upset and depressed and angry than I was to begin with. And a whole lot LESS comfortable.

This is the lesson I'm choosing to take away from today. To turn my negative impulses into something else. Or at least, try to.

I apologise, because this reads really disjointed to me and doesn't seem to make much sense, but I had to get it out there anyway.

But maybe this is the emotional kick in the ass I've been needing to have to make the conscious choice between Road A and Road B. At the end of the day, if I give into the food and turn my back on my starving soul, I'll only succeed in winding up just like my aunt. I'm not ashamed to admit that my sense of self-worth is strongly tied to my weight and physical appearance. And I've chosen to do something about that: I just need to stick to it now.

God, I'm rambling again. I'm sorry, I can't help myself.

Today was my first true "binge". It consisted of one serving of one meal, but it's the first time I've ever really... gone there. For me a binge is usually giving into a craving. Or sometimes being forced to have a meal out and being unable to cut back on the calories and consumption. But today was mindless and emotion-driven and I could not stop myself even though I knew what I was doing, and somewhere deep inside it felt like something was doing this to me on purpose. That a self-destructive part of me, that hates me and does not want to see me succeed and be happy, made a conscious decision to ruin me.

I've made my mistake. I've learned from it. I'm moving past it. And I will be a stronger person because of it.

Failure v2.0

So, I hate myself.

Someone at work brought me a plate of various munchies... Everyone at work is always pressuring people to fucking eat something, everyone in my team is a god damn pig, I swear. And I caved and had a couple of things from the plate. Mostly since I thought "it'll be okay to have a couple things, it's not going to kill you or anything".

Sigh. I just did a tally of the few things I did eat, and the total is 655kcals. Including the yogurt this morning, that brings my total up to 757 calories.

I'm not a purge-er but I have to admit I did just try to get rid of some of it.. I know not everything came back out but at least some of it did so the damage won't be quite as high.

I hate purging but when I found out there were THAT many calories I couldn't help myself. Ugh.

I didn't even eat that much but there is more calories in that shit than I thought there would be. Fucking supermarket brands and their calorie-badness.

So, I'm sorry you guys. But I'm going to do a full tea-and-water fast tomorrow to make up for it. No braised lettuce for me tonight. =[

007: Day 4 of ABC. Also: the WORST DAY EVER

It is not even 10am yet, but already this is the worst day ever. Today could not have been a worse day had God himself decided to smite me in my sleep and I woke up this morning dead and decaying all over my beautiful bedding.

Last night, exhausted and bored, I went to bed around 9:30. Maybe the hunger was getting to me? Although to be perfectly honest, I didn’t actually feel hungry, I felt just fine. I was proud of the fact that I wasn’t hungry. But I was tired and went to bed early. I woke up, wiiide awake, convinced that it would of course only be a few minutes before my alarm was due to go off, because with me that is always the way. A glance at my phone, however, proved it was only 2:22 in the morning. Score! I could go back to sleep for a whole four and a half extra hours. Of course, I was WIDE awake and it took ages to fall back to sleep… Next thing I knew, I was 7:00, my alarm was going off and I had to get up. And now I was exhausted.

I got ready for work, gathering all the extra crap I needed. I even remembered to get my fruit salad, peach, and 10cal pot of jell-o (it’s not Jell-O brand because England doesn’t have Jell-O, but I feel weird calling the stuff “Jelly”) AND a spoon to eat it with! I was dropped off at my bus stop. And waited.

And waited.

Then I saw my bus up the street, about the turn onto the roundabout. I walked to the edge of the road to wait for it to come down. And it didn’t. It went straight across the roundabout. I was pissed. I went back and waited.

And waited.

And then I saw another bus. And once again, it went straight across the roundabout. By this time, I had been waiting at the bus stop for over half an hour. Everyone got on the next bus, after asking me what was up with my bus, and I said I had no idea. In the end I called the local Traveline, and asked the operator. She said they didn’t have anything on their system about the bus route being revised, and gave me the number to call my bus company’s office direct. So I did, and he told me that yes, it wasn’t coming down this way due to road works on the area where it comes back out onto the main road again. Wonderful. It would have been nice for someone to TELL US that. I told the man on the phone this and he said that there should have been notices on the bus.

Well I wouldn’t know would I? I’m not ON the fucking bus! I also told him that nobody I’d spoke to had seen any notices (and for the record, when I finally DID get on the bus? NO NOTICES)

So, fine, I decided to walk up to the next stop. Of course, since the bus was bypassing no fewer than six stops, the next available stop was a ways up the road, and up a hill. And let me make this clear to you all: I am wearing heels. Sometimes, I wear flat shoes or sneakers on the way to work and change into heels when I get there, but today, I figured I had a ride to the bus stop and I had a ride home at the end of the day, so I should be okay in the heels. However, the hill I had to walk up to get to the bus stop, it was covered in ice, and I nearly let my face hit the pavement about eighty times on the way. My leg muscles hurt from tensing up so much to try to keep my balance.

I was almost at the stop when TWO buses came in a row, but of course I could hardly run to catch them, not without breaking my face and/or ass. So I walked, and had to wait AGES for the next one to come. I didn’t get into work until nearly 9:30, a full two hours after I originally got to the bus stop, and more than an hour after I usually get into work (8:20 or thereabouts). NOT HAPPY.

And might I add that my fucking hairband is hurting my head and irritating the living hell right out of me.

Okay, now that that rant is over with, I’ll get back on topic. Sigh.

This morning, I weighed exactly 195.0lbs. Down 6.4lbs since last Wednesday yay!

Today I’ve already eaten my apple (cut into chunks and shaken in a sandwich bag with a teaspoon of splenda and some ground cinnamon), and I’m doing okay. I’ve also got:

A fruit salad: 30 raspberries and 30 blueberries: 53
One small peach: 31
One medium banana: 105
One medium orange: 62
One Jello cup: 10

Whatever I don’t eat at work today I’m going to take home and have with a 100kcal yogurt.

It’s Day 4 of ABC and that makes it a 400 calorie day. My total with all of the above comes to: 361

Which leaves me open for maybe a small salad with some nonfat vinaigrette or something later if I’m really hungry, and still under 400 calories.

So excited, this shouldn’t be a problem. That seems like a ton of fruit.

<3

Stay Beautiful, Ladies
Xxxxx

Vee x

PS, I’m also out of Splenda so have to wander up to Tesco at lunch to buy some. Ughh.

004: Do You Ever Feel Like...

You just can't do ANYTHING right?

Last night basically went to hell after I'd posted. I'd managed to have 4 cups of green tea with splenda, 4 cups of strawberry-raspberry-loganberry tea with splenda, and a 295cal frozen dinner. And that was it. I was feeling very proud of myself.

Then, my aunt got home from work and we all left to the cinema. My plan was to get a Coke Zero and check out the calorie content of the ice cream bars and things they sold there. Of course, My Bloody Valentine started last night and the place was absolutely PACKED. Even the express extra-special lineup for we Unlimited Card holders was HUGE. In the end, my aunts decided we'd go out to eat instead.

I'm sure you can see where this is going.

I couldn't get out of it. We were THERE already. And my aunts know that I'm dieting and when my aunt got home from work she was bragging that all she'd eaten yesterday was some soup and one slice of bread. She's not ED, she's just... weird. And manic-depressive so sometimes her eating habits are way out there. But anyway. She was carrying on as if nobody in the history of ever had had so little to eat and oh woe is her I must feel bad. So I made the mistake of saying "Well I had a lot of green tea at work and was on a green tea buzz so I wasn't hungry until I got home so all I'VE HAD was my frozen meal." Trying to shut her up.

So of course, they assumed I must be hungry, even though I had SAID I wasn't even hungry in spite of that. And they traipsed over to the restaurant across the parking lot place thing. Got seats. And I spent ages agonizing over the menu. My aunts ordered their starters and I said I didn't want one, and then they made a big deal about BUT LOOK THEY HAVE GARLIC BREAD - and people, I'm a garlic bread addict, if there was a Garlicaholics Anonymous, I'd be the chairperson. So I had to order that, although I didn't finish it. I was going to get a fish dish because I know it would be the healthiest, but unfortunately I still can't physically bring myself to eat fish, after a serious bout of food poisoning caused by fish two years ago. Long time to hold a grudge, I know, but I HAVE NEVER been that sick in my entire life.

So, I ordered chicken and mashed potatoes. Didn't finish either of them. And made a big deal about how sick I was feeling afterward. Which wasn't a lie. I stated previously that I have no problem with people who are mia but I personally don't purge because I'm like OCD about my teeth. My paranoia is intense. But last night at the restaurant, I was just about to excuse myself to the toilets to see if anyone was in there, when my aunt piped up that her stomach was upset. She spent the next 10 minutesin the only bathroom while her partner ate her dessert - and as soon as she got back, we left. And when I got home, I physically could not be sick. I have never been more pissed off at myself as I was in that moment.

So, I went over my 500 calorie limit for yesterday by maybe an extra 500, ugh. To compensate, I'm making today a Fast Day.

In addition to that, one of my housemates had also bought all the ingredients to make her Infamous Sausage Bake. Which is totally yummy, but EXTREMELY fattening. It's like, condensed cream of tomato soup with paxo stuffing with gravy with mashed potatoes with like twenty fatty pork sausages and fuck knows what else. The problem is, this has been my favourite food for like the past ten years, and I've only had it a handful of times. The last time she made it was when I first moved to England, which is more than four years ago now. And she's already bought the ingredients. I can't not eat it, I can't tell her I don't want it. Ugh. This was an upside to the year and a half I didn't eat pork: no fatty sausages!

So, today is a fast day, tomorrow I'll have to have some sausage bake, but I'll keep my portions small, and then fast again on Monday to make up for it. Then I'll pick up the ABC on Tuesday, on Day 4 (the day after the "scheduled" fast day anyway) and take it from there.
The only upside to all of this is that I dropped 0.8lbs since yesterday (even with the Restaurant ordeal), and as of this morning I've lost exact 4lbs in 3 days, and am at 197.4lbs right now. I'm approaching that half-stone mark and I'm excited.

In other news, we went to visit my grandmother today. And I feel like shit and am trying not to hate her.

We walked in and she was like "Hey, give me £5 for a book of raffle tickets I'm selling to raise money" And I'm like "WHAT five pounds? I have no money right now" and my aunts were saying the same thing. It's a really bad time for money right now. We asked what the prizes were out of interest, and my grandmother replied as if she were telling us they were the CROWNED MOTHERFUCKIN' JEWELS themselves. "A ticket to see Sheffield Wednesday Play. And second prize is Scuba Diving".

First of all, it needs to be said that I was a Season Ticket Holder for Sheffield United for two years. When I give two shits about football, I support Sheffield Wednesday's ANTICHRIST. I did say to her that No, that's not exactly a prize I would cherish. And I can be pretty claustrophobic so I doubt I could do scuba diving. I also have a MAJOR phobia of like, swimming in deep water and knowing there are big things under me. Like a whale or a fucking sunken ship. I would have a HEART ATTACK.

So anyway, I told her I have no money. It's six week between paydays because we got paid early at Christmas. I've already had to take two HUNDRED pounds out of my savings account this month. That money was supposed to be half of my flight to visit Canada this year. And she says "Well its for a good cause!!" and I was like I have to look after my own cause right now. I have bills to pay. Transport to work, food to buy.

And she got all pissed off and basically told me to "Shove it" and nevermind, and stormed off to put her tickets away. So then my aunt was saying she was just joking (she'd said some stuff as well about no money and she can't afford tickets for shit prizes or whatever) and my grandmother turned and glared at me and was like "Yeah but then SHE* started!"

Like it's my fault I have no money and don't want to waste £5 on a fucking raffle ticket, to win a prize to see the ONE FOOTBALL TEAM that I would never go to see because they are the archrivals of my team. She made me feel like a huge bitch and then basically ignored me the rest of the time we were there. And when we said we'd take the tickets and pay her the money when we had it later, she refused to give them to us: even though earlier it was her idea that we could do that.

SHE IS SO GOOD with guilt trips. I can never do anything right, especially not by this woman.

Oh, get this. She noticed I'd lost a little weight (nothing major but 4lbs is 4lbs I guess) and I told her four pounds, all happy. And then she looked at me sternly and was like "How, you're not starving yourself, are you?"

I didn't know what to say. I told her no, I wasn't. Which to be honest is true: with all the drama of the past week and the fucking takeout food and restaurants, I haven't really. But trust her to basically tell me that hey, the only way I could conceivably lose any weight in any period of time is to just stop eating altogether. WAY TO BE SUPPORTIVE.

I am so pissed right now it's not even funny. I wanted to burst into tears and just stalk out.

Anyway before I head off, I want to ask you to keep your fingers crossed for me. This fast day is going mostly okay. It's 5pm and I did have to break it to eat nine grapes. But I was so pissed off and upset by the deal at my grandmother's house (it might not sound like a lot but this woman makes me fucking crazy upset) I just wanted to come home and comfort eat. So I just ate the rest of the grapes I'd bought that wouldn't fit into the plastic container in the freezer (I'm freezing them as a crunchy snack). So 9 grapes. I have a Sprite Zero to take to the cinema, and that's all I'm planning on having. Wish me luck

Stay Beautiful xxx