I hate Mondays

Weight = 172.0 lbs.

Weight lost in the past 4 days = 5.2 lbs.

Days til Canada = 8.

Food death list =

PB(2)&J - 200 kcal
Popcorn, chocolate - 100 kcal
Ham sandwich - 260 kcal  
Macchiato, soy - 240 kcal
Edamame salad - 145 kcal
Crisps - 180 kcal
Olive bread w/tomato relish - 300 kcal

Total = 1425 kcal

The edamame salad was about the only healthy thing I consumed all day. I'm so pissed at myself for the popcorn and the ham sandwich. Vegan diet needs to be resumed tomorrow. I've run out of Ritalin and so my appetite has returned with a vengeance. Tomorrow: soup, salad, fruit and coffee only. And essay-writing. So much essay-writing. Ugh.

Vegan cyclist bullshit, take 2 (day 5)

Weight: 174.2

Intake:

- Porridge with flax, banana, peanut butter (100)

- Caramel macchiato, soy (240)

- Vegan sushi box (330) 

- Diet Coke (1)

- 1 punnet tomatoes (65)
- Rice and avocado (600)

Total: 1336 

Vegan cyclist bullshit, take 2 (day 4)

Weight: 174.6

- PB&J (200)

- 1/2 peach (30)

- Caramel macchiato, soy (240)

- 1/2 avocado salad (150)

- 1 cup multivitamin juice (85)

- Thai Green curry w/noodles (400)

- Crisps (150)

Total: 1255 

Vegan cyclist bullshit, take 2 (day 3)

Weight: 175.8

- 1 baked potato (135)
- 1 sweet potato (180)
- 1 banana (90)
- 1 tbsp. peanut butter (95)
- 1 punnet raspberries (60)
- Caramel macchiato, soy (200)
- 2 cups spring greens (80)
- 1/2 avocado salad (150)
- 1 cup peas (100)
- 1 cup multivitamin juice (85)
- 1 lentil burger (180)

Total: 1355

Rant

I feel like I just don't know anymore. Like, what is my life right now? This term has been an utter shit fest. I'm freaking out about Christmas. Am I really going to be able to get enough weight off to feel good about myself when I see my father on the 8th? That's a big anxiety. I can't handle the comments. Losing weight isn't for them, it's for me - a protective, waterproof agent, there purely so that any criticism can just slide right off. It's a preventive measure, damage control. My own self-loathing at this weight bounces right off me and onto them, and they pick up on it, and make comments. And then I'm going to freaking Los Angeles for Christmas. Where my actress sister now works in the coolest vintage clothing store, and where I will be expected to parade around in the streets of Melrose in skimpy summer outfits. God, I just hate it all with a passion. My plan is to ditch the 6 pounds that have me rooted in the 170s by Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday. Four days away. If it takes laxatives, and barely eating, and feeling hungry all the time, so be it. I'm already grouchy as hell.

Vegan cyclist bullshit take 2 (day 2)

Cycling didn't happen. And, because my body isn't used to the large amounts of food, I gained .4 of a lb. Not a big gain, admittedly, and it's better than gaining on 800 calories (which started to happen earlier this month, if you can believe it). It's 4pm and I've had two baked potatoes (no oil) with sriracha ketchup, and a 3 banana-maple syrup-cinnamon smoothie. Purely functional food. I've said this before, but I really want to just see food solely as something I have to shovel in to get energy and nutrients. Everything that doesn't have sugar (sweet, pure, fat-free energy), caffeine (appetite-suppressing, calorie-negligible goodness) or some kind of psychoactive property, like clean pharmaceuticals (Ritalin) or nicotine (Menthol smokes) is a waste of time. Fat is disgusting. The way other people slather meat in butter and then fry it makes me feel sick. The food I snack on late at night when I'm feeling bored or alone also makes me sick. My own sick demands, as a fleshy, messy, neurotic human being. I need to be better, stronger, faster. Right now I'm a 175-pound lump and I don't even recognise myself.

This week is going to be hell. I have either a class or a meeting or something else every day, two essays, shit tons of reading for my course, oh and then Mummy is coming up on Saturday. Hopefully I won't be dead by then. I refuse to weigh a pound over 168 by the weekend. I don't need the comments. I need to look well, and overweight is not well. Also, clothes shopping and dinner might happen. Time for damage control.

Vegan cyclist bullshit take 2 (day 1)

Morning weight: 174.8

- 2 bananas (200)
- 2 tbsp peanut butter (195)
- Couscous, houmous, tapenade, spinach (350)
- Macchiato, soy (180)
- Spaghetti + passata wine sauce (500)
- Raisins/cashews (200)
- Crisps (350)

Total: 1975

New goals:

-Not eating after 12
-Bike every day (aim for 15k)
-164 by Canada (8th Dec)
-160 by L.A. (19th Dec)
 
The goal is then to maintain at 160... indefinitely. I never thought I'd say this, but hitting the "technically overweight" band on a (admittedly questionable, online) BMI scale has really thrown things into perspective for me. I've had some realisations. Namely, that weighing 160 at 5'9, bordering on 5'10, is really not all that awful. Also, that veganism is the way to go. It's literally the only way I can eat over 1500 calories a day without gaining weight. And I'm goddamn sick of gaining weight, let's be honest. Thirdly, I'm going to freaking Canada. In 17 days to be precise. I'm losing a minimum of ten pounds in that time, no excuses. Even it means pedalling my goddamn heart out on the exercise bike twice daily. Ten pounds, 17 days, no excuses.

I would like to find a way to make fruits and veggies constitute my entire diet. I'm beginning to really loathe other things. Regular food makes me feel insane. Maybe that's just plain weird, but the food other people eat just freaks me out. I hate that it's abnormal to eat five bananas for lunch instead of a hermetically sealed four-day-old beef(?) sandwich from the campus library cafe. I get a kick out of being unusual. Plus, this is something to get angsty about. A good excuse for rage and rageful positivity. I want to be better than other people; it's what drove my eating disorder forward in the first place. This is a vaguely acceptable way to do it. Carpe f*cking diem. Long live the vegan weirdo bullshit (for the three-hundredth time this year).

I hate myself

I hit the highest weight I've ever seen on a pair of scales on Saturday. 181 fucking pounds. Writing it makes me feel deeply ashamed, but there it is. Which actually constitutes as overweight, both in the emotional sense (feeling oneself to be far too large) and the literal sense (BMI teetering over the edge of 26). I've got a rotten relationship with food. I don't trust it; I don't trust that eating it or not eating it will make a difference, and I don't trust that it wants anything other than to work against me. It's weird to personify food in this way, as the devil or such, but the reality is that on the night prior to hitting 181, I ate only a grand total of 1400 calories - an amount that never before would have caused a five-pound weight gain in one sitting. I don't understand food, and it doesn't understand me. I can't eat normal quantities anymore. My metabolism is butchered from years of fucking around.

The plan (and there has to be a plan, otherwise it all really is shot to hell):

- 1 c. cereal (130)
- 1/2 c. fruit (60)
- Black coffee (15)
- 150-calorie dinner