Well I'm back from my weekend in the Lake District...can't say it was as much fun as I had hoped, but still, better than sitting around feeling crap.
The weather was appalling, but I got a fantastic work-out going all out up the tallest peak in England - but God my legs ached like hell! Really wasn't impressed with the rain and hail which was periodically whipping across my face - hurt more than my legs! I swear everywhere else in the UK was sunny this weekend and suddenly we entered some micro climate in the Lake District where it became mid-winter.Well, anyway, like I said, I went with a bunch of hardcore military guys and two of my best girlfriends, and we all went out clubbing in the local town of Ambleside - I say clubbing but it was more like an old village pub that had a dungeon-like cellar with a dancefloor. (I'm a London girl, born and bred so I just don't really have a taste for rural England life.) Well anyway, this little place clearly hadn't seen the likes of party-lovers like us and it took about an hour before we were chucked out. So back to the campsite (eugh camping!) Me and my girlfriends decided to sack off sleeping out the the freezing cold tent and took our sleeping bags into the 'drying room', where we were joined by Peter (see previous post 22nd Feb) and I spent the whole night snuggled up to him wishing for more. Urgh, why! There is nothing more comforting than having the warm body of a strong man next to you. I just spent the whole night close against him, inhaling his scent, wishing I could hold him tight. I threw all logic out the window - I just wanted him so badly. It made me really sad that I didn't have a boyfriend. All the times in the last year when I have been intimate with a guy I've been too drunk to enjoy that feeling of security, and I really missed it. It really made me very sad.
So, back to the important things. Fat. I am still fat. It's fucking killing me.
I've got to go home tomorrow, because I've got three weeks off uni for Easter.
I am so, so frightened.
Already my mum has been telling me about all the 'treats' she has bought me to eat.
She is going to make me eat.
How can I bear it? How can I live in a house, with a kitchen full of 'treats'.
I just want to starve.
I JUST WANT TO STARVE.
How on earth do you guys that live at home do it? How do you manage with the family meals?? Any advice would be appreciated so much!!
I'd rather just stay here in my flat at uni and rot. Seriously.
I hate food. I hate it more than I hate myself and my body. I hate it because it controls me. Starving myself is so easy when I'm in my flat at uni, because I just don't keep food here. But back home...its three meals a day sat down with my mum in a kitchen stocked full of food. How the fuck am I gonna find the strength? I'm so scared, how am I gonna find control? Please Help!