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

Day Two

I ended up going out to Byron with Lina, and demolishing half of a veggie burger with french fries. So Day One was shot to hell, but in my head it was worth it. This morning I weighed 171.2. 

The plan is a 500 calorie limit:

- 1 c. cereal with almond milk (180)

- 1/2 c. raspberries (60)

- Whatever's around for dinner (200 max.)

Plus chocolate, because there's a lot of that lying around the house.

I was told it would be better than this

I hit my highest weight this week. I made a vow to myself, at some point, that I wouldn't ever exceed 150, at any point. Well, that one failed. I exceeded 170 by a long shot and I continue to slip up and lose control. My life's fairly broken at the moment. I've been ill for two weeks, the kind of ill that prevents one from actually leaving the house for much longer than half an hour. My eyes are red and hollow looking. I'm bloated and my digestion is shot. I can't seem to get back into the 160s. I already started and ruined a relationship this term, with an Italian musician, of all people. I refuse to see him until I am myself again. This can't be me; this can't be all there is. My own mediocrity astounds me. I'm so slow and lethargic that I barely metabolise enough not to gain on 1,200 calories a day. It's time to restrict again, in earnest, and sort myself out.

I organised my room, stringing up all my best blacks and whites on an industrial steel clothing rail, and it actually makes me feel motivated to fit into all my old clothes. Wanting to shrink to belong in my own room.

Today's intake so far:

- 1 c. cereal with almond milk (180)
- 1/4 tomatoey pasta dish (154)
- Hoummous (100)
- Diet Coke (1)

I'm 168.8 lbs. And no, that's not a dodgy reading, I got the same number 10 times weighing myself in multiple places in the bathroom. I don't even know how the fuck I managed to gain on 1179 calories, or how my weight actually went up overnight (I weighed 167.8 before sleeping) but probably it had something to do with the fact that I had 4 cold and miserable hours' sleep on the shitty air mattress I've been using this week because all the beds are in my new apartment. I get a better night's sleep on the couch. I'm literally so pissed off. I told my mum I wanted half an hour alone or I'll be pissed off all day. She can't stop interrupting me for things, helping her with this or that. I feel bad for complaining and any other day I'd be happy to help her but not today. Today I want to punch a brick wall. And it just so happens to be the day I have to go out and meet people, and have coffee, and go clothes shopping. I mean kill me now. My past self would have been horrified at the idea of me going shopping at 168.8 lbs. What the fuck, why do I even bother rounding down? I'm 170 pounds. 170 giant fucking pounds and I'm never going to change.  

If it's possible to drop 4 pounds of water weight overnight I'm sure as hell going to try. I had a Diet Coke, a fat free yogurt and a bagel and then swallowed 20mg of Ritalin. That's 340 calories. If I only have coffee when I'm out, and a 250-calorie ready meal when I'm home, the day shouldn't technically come to more than 1000 calories. Well, I say 1000, more like 700, but I'd rather tell myself it's 1000 than underestimate and wind up bingeing out of panic and frustration.

* EDIT: 20 mins into taking Ritalin -

I actually had a lovely day with my mother yesterday. We did some rounds of the home and furniture shops and looked at bric-a-brac, pointing at this and that. Sometimes, when I can behave like an adult, and appear as if I have my shit pulled together, my mum is my best friend in the whole world. Then I fall apart and turn into an angry adolescent again, and we end up arguing. We ate carrot sticks together in the evening and the thought crossed my head that perhaps she would be far more cooperative with me if I were the perfect 22 year-old woman: thin, refined, anorexic and organised, with a touch of OCD and a penchant for dipping raw vegetables in mustard when hungry. It's my full intention to become that person; I just don't know how/when it will happen. Sometimes I think that I'm very anorexic in my mind, and then I remember that once upon a time I was borderline anorexic, weighing a little under 124 lbs at 15. I didn't appreciate my BMI of 18.3 back then, but nor was I sophisticated enough to work it at the time. I was scrawny rather than svelte, flabby rather than muscular, and deranged and derailed rather than fussy and neurotic. I don't want to be 124 lbs again, because I don't want to look ill (and I would). 140 lbs would work, if I had the matching persona to go with it. 140 would be fine, maybe 135, but one doesn't need to be truly underweight to appear as such. There are other factors than can come into play such as muscle mass and bone density and dress sense. I'm bigger than I was then, not just height wise (almost an inch taller) but also I'm a lot stronger. A lot of this weight is muscle, which is fine, but it's not what I want - at least, not with the fat I've gained along with it. My arms and legs seem so huge to me. Some of that might be muscle, a lot of it might be, and I'm sure it is but that's not what I want. I don't want my thighs to be bulging out of jeans. The ideal is to zap the fat without ruining the muscle, because being toned never hurt anyone. But I don't want guns.

I admit I was a little (read: very) derailed by the reading on the scales. I stepped on again after going to the bathroom and it said 166.8. So I don't know if it was a false reading or whether it was just water weight I had to "lose" in the morning. Either way, 166.8 isn't good enough and still constitutes a gain. Hideous, but maybe I can drop 2 additional ones today. That would make me 164 at the beginning of a new week, which is the lowest I've been in a while. And I'm sleeping on the couch. I have to get a train at 1pm and I refuse to be in a bad mood for the two-hour journey.

I don't know why I'm complaining so much. My life is pretty nice at the moment. I'm not working, I don't have to start reading course materials until next week, and I just got a new phone to replace the old one that kept breaking. So I should just plug in some bloody headphones and get on with it.

My sister called my mum on the phone yesterday and then passed over her manager-slash-Earth-Momma Dawn. Dawn's a total bitch at best but I try to put up with her. This is the same charming woman who consistently tells my sister I'm a jealous and toxic presence, and who, during an expedition to a New York flea market this Christmas, told me that if I wanted to hide I should. That is not the sort of advice one gives to someone with crushingly low self-esteem; it's the sort of advice that perpetuates the whole thing, and she of all people, at 5'6 and approximately 105 pounds, should know that. But whatever. I may be biased because shoot me, I don't much like the idea of my eighteen-year-old sister being pimped out by a 40 year old LA producer with peroxide hair and a missing finger. Oh, and I might mention that while I lie in my cold freezing air mattress cave all night, my sister is parading around Melrose Avenue buying wicker peacock furniture for her apartment and drinking iced matcha lattes in a pair of Lolita sunglasses. And yes, I'm bitter - can you tell?

Speaking frankly, I hate the America thing.

Day 3

- 3 fat-free dessert yogurts (180 cal)
- Coffee Light frappuccino (85 cal)
- Salad w Light House dressing (100 cal)
- Carrot sticks w chickpea/lentil dip (140 cal)
- 2 chicken breasts (295)
- 1 pc. rye bread (130 cal)
- 1 pkg. chips (169 cal)
- 1/3 cup Irish Cream (80 cal)

Total: 1179 cal

+ 20 mins calisthenics

Weight: 165.4 lbs

I didn't lose any more weight but am persevering anyway. Trying to have faith in the plan. My mother expressed some concern for the diet, telling me not to "get too obsessed". I told her I wouldn't go backwards, that this would help me. And I truly think it will. I want to fall back in love with clothes, and fashion, and making myself look adorable, and I don't think I can do that at eleven-and-a-half stone.

I want to join an adult ballet class when I get back to uni next week and start properly working out. I love the calisthenics routines, and my abs are killing from the other day still, but it's worth it. I'm seeing a change already.

The goal is to get down to 162 by sometime next week and then to maybe liquid fast for 3 days if I can handle it. It's so nice to think of getting back to 150s. Then I'll be on the straight and narrow until I get back to the 140s, my stellar weight on this blog.

Drive is picking me up tomorrow, in his car (surprise surprise) to go get lunch. Is it a date? Shot to hell if I know. Either way will let you know how it goes...

Day 2

- 1 nectarines (40 cal)
- 1.3 cup grapefruit juice (120 cal)
- Bircher muesli yogurt (175 cal)
- Cappuccino (100 cal)
- Sandwich (552 cal)
- Kabanos (206 cal)

Total: 1193 cal

Weight: 165.6 lbs          

Day 1

- 2 nectarines (80 cal)
- 1 cup grapefruit juice (95 cal)
- Cappuccino (100 cal)
- Sandwich (675 cal)
- 1 cup chilli tomato soup (100 cal)
- Red wine (50)
- Chocolate (100)

Total: 1200 cal

+ 40 mins calisthenics (I have a lil sit-up routine)

Weight: 166.2 lbs

600 cal a day keeps the doctor away.

I wanted to try 2-4-6-8 tomorrow, starting with the 800 day as I can't remember the last time I successfully had a day under 1,200 calories. But I'm going back to basics and doing what I did when I was 17, which was just 600 calories a day until I broke. Straight-forward, no bullshit calorie zigzagging and messing around. I'm ready to shake this range once and for all. I stepped on the scales multiple times at 2pm after waking up and they went from 166.8 to 167.4 back to 166.8. I don't know which number was accurate but the point is I don't want to be 160-anything. I've been here for literally a year and I've had enough of it. So 600 calories a day until I'm back to where I was, that's it. Either way I'm deciding that I need to go a bit extreme to successfully get back in the 150s then lower. I'm back in London this week then freshers starts next Monday or thereabouts, so I'm leaving again then. That means roughly seven days to get out of the 160s. I just need a jump start. I've been sleeping on the couch at home, and today I didn't wake up until lunch time, which felt terrible. It was my birthday on Sunday, and I stayed the night at Tina's which meant I had to wake up at 9 (she leaves for outpatient treatment every morning around 10/11) and it felt really good to be up that early. I got so much done that I didn't care about only having had 6 hours sleep. I'm working on an album at the moment, and it's something that feels very easy for me to keep returning to as I love doing it and it's cathartic and therapeutic in a way that writing often isn't. So I did that virtually all morning while Tina was at clinic and then I met her at 4pm and it felt like I'd actually had a productive day's work. Anyway, I want to do that every day. I want to design a perfect schedule that allows me to work on all of these creative passions in equal amounts with equal dedication and determination. Writing, making music, and film. Maybe I should find an acting class this term that isn't affiliated with the university. If such a thing exists.

I finally got my Ritalin prescription from the chemist's so I will making full use of it in a non-abusive-but-probably-slightly-abusive way... until I find a way to otherwise control my voracious and insatiable appetite.

* EDIT *

- FF Greek yogurt, blueberry (114)
- 1 banana with cinnamon (90)
- Muesli with skim milk (200)
- Soy cappuccino, vanilla (180)
- Chicken singapore noodles (300)
- Superfood salad (375)
- Cookie (290)
- More salad with cheese (300)
- Coca-Cola (100)

Total: 1949

This is a "good day" to me now, which is rather a kick in the teeth seeing it all written down like that. I feel bloated. I came back to Tina's house for the night, which opened the gateway to eating a big dinner and consequently feeling I should eat more to make it "worth it". I didn't need the cookie, but she was having one and for some reason that justified it to me. Same with the heavy dinner of noodles and salad. Even though it was "healthy", I'm not convinced. I'm rarely convinced that a dinner consisting of meat, dairy, and totalling over 600 calories is either worth it or entirely healthy for you and consequently, I feel bad. Bad enough to start restricting again seriously, if only to negate how utterly full and disgusted I feel right now. I feel shit looking at myself in the mirror. I don't understand how I let it get this bad. I don't know how anyone can say I look ok. My friends, my girlfriend, my ex-boyfriend. I look like a pig.

I've planned out tomorrow:

- 1 peach (30 cal)    
- Black coffee (0 cal)
- Mocha Light frappuccino (96 cal)
- Kids meal (275 cal)
- 20 slices Turkey w/ mustard (170 cal)

Total: 571 calories

Time to get my sh*t together

I want to try 2-4-6-8, or possibly just 4-6-8, obviously starting with the 800 day. Or maybe just burning off every single calorie I eat. I'm really sick of this shit.

Ballooned again, working it off as fast as possible. In two days I've gone from 170 to 165.6 lbs; my completely ridiculous but non-negotiable plan is to get down to 150 by the start of term. I cannot endure another month of this weight range, I just cannot. I hate what this body connotes about me. I want my body to be a weapon and an instrument, sharp and refined and disciplined. Not this lazy corpulent mass of flesh.

I haven't figured out what's causing me to self-sabotage yet, but I'm working on it. What's really hard for me is the night-time. When everyone goes to bed is when I take the opportunity to stuff my face with useless food items that have no nutritional benefit and only serve to comfort me when I'm feeling bored and hyperactive on my own. It's been such a while since I've restricted properly, so I'm giving it everything I've got because I know full well it's going to be a job.

I downloaded a pedometer onto my iPhone and I'm working on taking 10,000 steps a day as a bare minimum. It's actually a lot harder than you'd think and I've realised I really need to raise my activity level. No wonder I'm fat and listless, when I only take a couple of thousand steps a day. I've been jogging on the spot intermittently throughout the day because seeing the number go up is just so damn satisfying.

Thunder

Yesterday's weight: 168 
- Oats (250)
- Bagel (230)
- Toast (200)
- Diet Coke (1)

Today's weight: 164
- 3 eggs (210)
- Mustard (30)
- Diet orange squash (1)

This is either the diet of someone very broke, or very depressed; as of several weeks ago, I happen to be both. Yesterday I had a breakdown that prevented me from being able to take regular breaths of air for upwards of four hours, and led to my cancellation of a trip I promised my mother I'd accompany her on. We were supposed to be going to Copenhagen for three days, this morning. At 10 a.m., she left without me, after telling me how disappointed and upset she was. I slept only 3 hours, from 3 a.m. to 6 a.m., and couldn't get back to sleep. I feel like the worst person in the world... And my self-hatred is the best dieting tip ever. After gaining 7 pounds seemingly overnight without very much effort at all, over half of it is gone in the space of a day. I'm living off empty carbs, whatever's in the house. There's just bread, squash, condiments, some soup, and I had the last of the eggs for breakfast, although I wish I hadn't. They felt too indulgent.

I think if I eat enough of the boring foods I'll stop craving strong flavours and just learn to be content with a cheap, bland diet of toast, bananas, and tomato soup. I don't eat cheese and meat anymore, and during my gap year I remember easily being able to live off £10 or £15 a week, minus cigarettes. Extreme vegetarianism, extreme restriction and a willing to abuse my prescription pills will be the way to get the weight off. I don't care anymore. There's cider, and gin, and Bailey's, and wine in the fridge. I have all the goddamn meals I need.

I'll be at least twenty pounds lighter by the 30th September. That is non-negotiable.

Joyeux Dimanche

Happy Sunday! Sort of.

Well, I ate like a pig today. I was 162 again. The number is making me complacent. I may just stop weighing for a week... I say that now, but I highly doubt I'll be able to do that. It would be nice though, to look in a week and see something below this stubborn weight range.

This afternoon I literally couldn't find anything "normal" to eat for breakfast (I haven't done a proper shop in ages because I have no funds) so I had a weird-ass combination of 2 nectarines, a cinnamon raisin bagel, a Diet Coke and most of a tub of hummus. So that was delicious but very strange. I pretty much didn't eat all day apart from the 2 coffees I had (one black, at home, then a frappuccino when I was out). Then I came home and made a huge saucepan of pasta, olives and vegan green pesto which I promptly devoured. Afterwards I shared some blueberries with Mummy. So I don't know how much I actually ate calorie-wise but maybe that's a good thing, maybe I should try to be more intuitive, I don't know. I didn't exercise, which was bad (third day running), but I'll make up for it tomorrow.

I'm still hungry, and it's midnight. I am craving a midnight snack and I know there are gummy sweets downstairs, and peanut butter... ugh I'm just craving sweet stuff so badly at the moment. Alternatively there's more hummus. Life is hard.

I had this insane idea earlier that I want to lose twenty pounds before school starts again and become a perfect student so I can be that perfect girl in her perfect apartment next year. Going on some kind of OCD/manic work bender is so appealing to me right now, as I miss the school schedule I'm more easily able to impose on myself when I'm at university. Next year I really do want to be the perfect student. I was never the perfect student at school, and I hated those girls that just seemed to be able to juggle plates - the ones who were in sports, all the extracurriculars, and got perfect grades. I could have been like that but I was a lazy shit who relied on merit and arrogance to get by. This time I know that I can actually be one of those girls. I have an obsessive side; I just need to indulge it. I need to employ the same kind of manic energy I apply to cleaning the entire house every weekend in my schoolwork, reading and languages. I need to impose a rigid structure on myself during term-time and I need to forget about feeling "comfortable". Comfortable doesn't mean best, comfortable doesn't mean "winning".

Veganism chimes in well with all of this. If I'm vegan, I'm "clean". My diet is more "perfect" and "pure" than the person sitting next to me on the underground, or actually, most of my friends. As for the benefits of veganism in weight loss... well, I will have to reassess after spending a couple of months living off coffee with soy milk and whole-watermelon-monomeals.

I don't know if any of that made sense. I'm in a highly energetic mood, despite the lack of pills today. I suppose I need to make some kind of plan. One that involves ungodly amounts of caffeine, Ritalin, and Dettox.

EDIT: Midnight snack involves croutons, olives, more hummus, a peach, and gummy sweets... The real shit starts tomorrow.

Pilgrimage to holy sushi and other rants

According to Everyday Health, I burned 727 calories just by walking yesterday. Admittedly I walked for over three hours in the blazing heat from one side of West London to the other, all in the name of finding sushi. I found said sushi, and it was worth it. For about five seconds, until I realised how much food I'd consumed, stepped on the scale and saw 167.8 flash up at me a bunch of times.

For the record, I was 162 this morning, so I didn't actually gain. But I never want to see a number higher than 165 on my scales ever again. Seriously.

In some lights, this is very good news. 2000 calories of vegan food, and a couple of hours walking, and I've maintained. Even a month ago, that amount would have been weight-gain territory. So this, in its own little way, makes me happy.

Today I've eaten 3 bananas with peanut butter, an iced soy latte, 3 vegetable samosas with pakora dip, a full fat Coke (sugar craving, don't ask), a huge plate of steamed baby new potatoes with some sriracha ketchup and mustard (completely blanked on checking the calories, but I feel like it was probably a lot as I ate the whole bag - F U reduced Sainsbury's fruit and veg...), and a bag of banana chips. Then at 2 a.m., at some point during or maybe before I started crying on Skype to Lina about our relationship, I devoured most of a cinnamon-raisin bagel with peanut butter and Marmite. So yeah, I definitely hit around 2000 calories again today, but to make matters worse I didn't exercise. I just smoked a lot and felt like a sweaty pig dying somewhere in the Sudan.

More tomorrow...

Summertime Sadness

The OCD inventories can take a brief hiatus here. I got horribly upset last night, about my sister leaving. She's moving to LA in six days. Up until last night it hadn't quite felt like a reality. Then it all hit me. She's going to be alone in a flat in LA and she's 18 and the idea of it terrifies me. So I broke down crying on her shoulder and I think it was probably the first real hug she'd given me in over a year.

I fell asleep at maybe 4am, maybe earlier, I don't remember. Then I couldn't wake up. I don't know why. Whether it was because I felt psychologically or physically shit or both. At this point, waking up at 4pm feels almost suicide-inducing. There's no worse feeling these days. I'd happily take anything over those afternoons. I wish I could find a way to wake up at 6.30am every day and be tired enough to clock off by 11pm. 

I cannot do this anymore.  

I weighed 163 this morning. I have no idea why I gained, but I did. I ate some crisps that I thought were vegan but they weren't, they had cheese powder in them. What the fuck is "cheese powder" anyway? 

I'm going to the gym in half an hour or so, for a late-night biking session. I've had 2 frozen bananas liquified in the blender, with fruit sugar; a piece of bread and oil; a few plantain chips that were left over; an Innocent smoothie. Just over 500 calories. Post-workout snack will be a huge iced coffee with soy from Starbucks, because glorified over-priced caffeine-and-fat-laden milkshakes are really the way forward. I want to burn at least 400 calories at the gym. That way, even if I end up with an intake of 1300, my net will be <1000. Dinner will be... some kind of vegetable hoummous-y concoction. If said ingredients can be found in fridge.

EDIT
This evening I had a ton of brown rice, some soy sauce, sriracha, then a carrot salad with tomatoes and hoummous. I also had more of those crisps, regrettably, but I was starving. Didn't go to the gym but biked instead, only for 20 minutes this time but at least it was something. Also drank two coffees with soy from Starbucks while I called Lina on the phone.

Estimating net calories at 1250. Not terrible, not great either. And that's discounting the coffee, which is a stupid rule because obviously soy milk does have calories, but I'm stubborn and needy and the free coffee calorie rule makes me feel childishly secure.

Ugh.