Insomnia has made a vicious return. Tossed and turned for like 3 hours last night before finally settling into a half-slumber, and my head was pounding when I woke up six hours later. I've had this permanent headache since I got back and I'm starting to wonder whether it's psychosomatic, because it comes back whenever I'm stressed out or trying to get to sleep. I've been popping painkillers like there's no tomorrow but yeah, anyway, screwy body not working with me but against me. I presume it's a detox symptom of sorts, from cutting a bunch of shit out of my diet since I returned home from university. The amount of takeout I was living on was disgusting.

72 is so close, only a kilo away, and I think it'll be a number that, ironically, I'll be happy to see. Not because I feel thin there, but because of the associations. At the start of summer last year, I ate my way up to 72 in a depressive feeding frenzy, but went to LA for a month and managed to drop to 65 without much difficulty at all. I definitely think it's a hurdle number, a plateau of sorts, that once broken past gives way to faster weight loss and a speedy entry into the high 60s - and that's where I last remember feeling "comfortable". Not thin necessarily, but lighter in my step, confident enough to show off legs and arms. In general, I couldn't be more thankful for winter, allowing me to bundle up under a million layers that hide the areas I hate. But fear is the best motivator, and fear is always there when you know that it'll be shorts weather soon. Shorts have always put the fear of God in me. 

I know I need to start exercising. It sounds like an excuse, but cardio outdoors is just an impossibility in the current zero degree climate that is London right now. Actually, today wasn't too cold, and I could actually get away without the scarf and gloves for once, but in general it's been freezing... so no, jogging can wait until the spring. I should probably do some crunches or something. Although I don't feel like that will make any difference. In less than three weeks I'm back at uni, anyway, and I'm signed up to the gym there (I have been squandering my £21-a-month membership since October). I want to start kickboxing again, because I used to do it when I was eighteen and loved it. I think there are a few classes near where I go to school, in town, so I'll definitely look into it when I get back. I like the idea of angry exercise. I can't imagine feeling peaceful or relaxed while exercising. Punching things is a form of exercise I can deal with. 

Today I had around 1300 again, which isn't as low as I would have liked, but the smoothie I made for breakfast contained more calories than I'd predicted because I used full-fat yogurt instead of fat-free. I'm getting to a point where fat is starting to freak me out again, way more than carbs and sugar do. I should really start buying everything fat free. Besides yogurt and cheese, I don't really consume fat anymore, at least not for the past 10 days. My diet mainly consists of chicken salad sandwiches, smoothies, cups and cups of black coffee and diet coke, small portions of whatever's being made for supper, and apparently now wine. But I want to cut the wine habit because it's draining, on top of everything else.

The goal is really to end up eating like a normal-but-health-conscious person. Thinking back to LA last summer, I wasn't really consuming anything but frozen yogurt, coffee with soy milk, lunches consisting of bags of SunBites or cashew nuts and too many cans of diet coke, and the occasional large vegan takeout for dinner. I ate a lot of salad and sushi, and avoided cheese like the plague. Plus I was working out for half an hour every day in the living room, doing calisthenics and stuff. I really need to get back into that. I went from 72 to 65 in a matter of weeks. I've done it before, I can do it again.

I feel positive about this.