A Head Full of Beauty

So it didn't really matter that Harry wasn't there in the end. All it meant was that it was a pretty uneventful night in which I drank far more than I needed and... well, nothing happened. My friends have always expressed concern about my lack of fear in walking the streets at night, but I've been doing it for years. Sure, I've had to run off from a few shady characters, I've been jumped on by a licenced London Black Cab driver, I've searched desperately for a friendly taxi on dark streets I didn't recognise, but it says a lot about me really - and as I said in my first post: 'I'm not afraid of any conventional fears.' We ended up in club called Fabric up in North London. It was gone 4am and I was done for the night. I vanished before anyone could start lecturing me. Naturally I hadn't eaten all day to ensure that my body was empty and at its thinnest, so my first stop was to buy food. Alcohol impairs judgement : half a pizza, half a subway s...

When I was 15, I used to wear a laminated tag around my neck, tucked inside my school blouse to remind me of how fat and worthless I was. I must still have it somewhere, hidden away in my cupboard, even though a few years ago I made an effort to throw out all my old notebooks and memories of self-hatred. I made the tag myself, put a picture of the beautiful Scarlett O'Hara on it, wrote about how I could be like her if I tried hard enough, laminated it, ran a long piece of string through to make a necklace. I wore it every day for months. When I was 13 I had to get dressed in the dark, never exposing my body while I changed. I had to lie face down in the bath - I couldn't stand and shower. I had to wear jumpers everywhere to swamp the curve of my growing breasts. When I was 8 I cried alone and in agony because I wasn't pretty. I decided I was the fattest in my class and I never let go of that. However high I hold my head, the truth is that this eating disorder has destr...

Funny, isn't it, the effect alcohol seems to have on my writing. I suppose that's when I feel and write at my most intense, 100% raw and 100% real - no craft. All night I was conscious of the words and paragraphs forming in my head as I danced, as I stood in front of the mirror, as I kissed, as I drank... all I was thinking was how to write it down and speaking it aloud in my head. I don't know when I will stop hating Alex or when I will stop remembering how it felt to touch him. I don't know if I could ever let another man back into my life or if I'll ever want to. History dictates that I always do anyway. It was a shame that I had to drink on Thursday night, and that the drink inevitably led to eating foods that I had cut out of my diet with my Dukan Diet regime. But I'm back on track again, eating only chicken, fish and seafood and drinking only water and skimmed milk. The new gym I joined is totally worth the £100 a month that I am paying. However, I...

Exercise and weight loss are expensive hobbies - or addictions. I have blown serious amounts of money over the years on diet pills, diet foods, gym memberships... but in the last few months I have definitely outdone myself and wasted money I really cannot afford to waste. I pay £56 a month for a gym membership in London - despite not actually living there anymore. I have a free gym on site where I work - but have still signed up to another super fly gym for £100 a month...(but it has incredible indoor and outdoor pools, sauna, steamroom, powerplates(!) and general all round luxury equipment and surroundings....) I order and drink boxes of overpriced Maxitone shakes and just forked out for a pair of specially measured and fitted running trainers - costing another £100 (which then blistered and tore my feet to shreds which means my feet are out of action until the painful scabs heal) And now, to top it all off... A subscription to the DUKAN DIET ! at a lump sum price ...

I have a new training program in place - a 10k training programme to be precise. It's hard to have an eating disorder whilst trying to train intensively at the same time - the two things really do conflict... But the fact is, I'm going to be running some races with Alex and some other super fit guys in the Autumn - after a Summer away on the LDAC that is. Yes, for any American readers, I am coming over to the US for a month to take part in the ROTC Leader Development Assessment Course. I have very little idea as to what it all entails exactly... other than it is something similar to the Territorial Army Commissioning Course we have here in the UK at Sandhurst...? If any of you out there have any info or experience of it I'd love to hear! So, my fitness is pretty good - in fact I can meet the male entry standards for Sandhurst (well on the run and situps anyway - my pressups are sill rather feeble!!) so I know physically I'm in pretty good shape... however it's...

All the power I have comes from the mirror: it comes from seeing fresh, clear skin, big brown all-absorbing eyes, soft dark hair and plump pink lips. From toned legs, a trim waist and slim arms - my power comes from my confidence; my power comes from the way I look. It's a lie, when people say it's what's inside that counts. But we all know this. We all know that's a load of crap. The world is powered by superficiality. As a woman, being beautiful is more important than anything. Period. And I don't mean fake hair-extensioned , plastic beauty, I mean REAL beauty . I mean that naturally glossy smile, that healthy twinkle in the eyes, skin that glows and a body that's lean and fit: with charisma that sparkles. You see, when a woman has all these things, she can command anyone - any man, even any woman. I don't have Real Beauty. But sometimes, with a great deal of effort, I can come pretty close. The experiences I have in this state are simply ethereal . I can...

There are tears stinging the backs of my eyelids every time I shut my eyes to pause. This world is hurting me so much. The truth is, I'm living, I'm so very much alive, so fit, so healthy, at my peak... except I'm doing it for the spectres that haunt me and keep my blood running so cold. I am a living eating disorder. That's it. There's nothing else left in my head anymore. You know, I'd give anything, to update my facebook status to say really 'what's on my mind'. Don't you ever just want to scream at the top of your voice. "PLEASE HELP ME. Underneath this pretty blush and giddy personality I'm dying, I'm torturing myself, I'm killing myself. Please fucking help me." I've reached the stage where I can't eat anything without throwing it up. The only reason I'm not losing weight is because my initial intake is so much that I can't be getting even half the calories back up anymore. I'm 22 years old and my l...

I've told D that I'm going to go to his on Thursday. But I'm still too fat. So I may postpone it till Friday. Or Monday. Or never. Wouldn't it just be so much easier if I deleted him from my head, never heard from him again, never thought of him evermore. Oops, sorry D, I forgot you existed. I went shopping today, with him in mind. Every time I remembered one of his messages and remembered something sweet he had said, I smiled - a great, big, sunny, daydream smile. The goddamn boy makes me smile . And yet, now, I just want to cry. I binged. I am too fat to go and see him, too fat to go and wow him. I am a terrible fuck up. It is too late, again. I messed up, I missed the deadline, I gave in. I fucked it up. I will not go and see him at this weight. I would be humiliated. The experience would crush me. I really want this. God, even just thinking about him makes me happier than I've been since the countryside days I spent with James back in the Summer of 2008. That wa...

According to the scales, on Monday I lost half a stone (7 pounds) in 12 hours. Yeah. ERM. I wish?! But seriously. That's what both of my goddam scales told me. Seriously. Are my scales posessed or is my body just THAT ridiculous?! After a lovely 700 calorie session in the gym on Monday and a negative amount of food, I decided to do the same on Tuesday. I hit the gym at around 5pm on an empty tummy. 700 calories later, I left the gym, completely drained of life. I felt like zombie. On the train home it struck me: Stomach-churning nausea. The most intense and disgusting nausea I have ever experienced. I had to press my hand to my mouth to hold it in. My body was rebelling. My stomach was being vile. It was screaming at me to eat. I don't remember walking through the front door, I just remember the bread crumbs when it was over. According to ABC I was only supposed to consume 100 calories. I had burnt off 700, which meant that strictly speaking I could eat 800 calories. But I lost...

Dear everyone I hope you are all having a very Merry Christmas, I hope you are all safe, with your families and I hope you are all well. I want to take this opportunity - in case you don't all already know - to tell you all how much I love and value you and how much you all touch my hearts everyday. I hope you know that I am walking and cheering you every step of the way until you reach your dreams.... * * * I am so thankful for this cyber somewhere over the rainbow. Our buzzwords: 'beauty', 'perfection', 'thin' - they are so socially unacceptable - not right to think - not right to believe in or desire. All I hear is their anger, whenever I explain that I want to be perfect. "You should be happy and accept yourself as you are." "BUT WHY?! I know I can be better than this, so why shouldn't I work to be better? Why should I accept myself in this lowly state? - WHAT is so wrong about wanting to better myself and strive for perfection?!"...

I've been wanting to write for days now. But it's all been quite depressing. And everything I wanted to write about... has somehow disappeared from my head... All I know is that I feel quite dead. This week is going to be hell. Quite simply, full on, full throttle, burning hell. Ok. I've got to submit my first assessment next Monday - one week away. Ok. That's ok, you know, it's ok. A week is ages. I used to knock out essays in a day at uni. I know my topic, I know what I have to do, I just have to do it. And I will. Fuck the rest of the shit in my life. I WANT TO BE TOP OF MY CLASS IN EVERY SINGLE ASSESSMENT. Perhaps more than anything I want to prove a point. Ask any member of my class who the least intelligent person is and I guarantee every single one would say me (yes I know I have an inferiority complex/paranoia anyway but I still think they genuinely believe this.) And I know it's my fault that they and my tutors all probably think this - because of the w...

Little sparks of happiness... from an ashen grey wreckage... my world... Yes there are bright little sparks sometimes which jolt sensation back into my fingertips. When I finally found the courage to go back to law school this week after over a week of hiding away, I felt foolish. It was fabulous to be back. Fabulous because I was just normal. I just forgot about my eating. I chatted and laughed, saw my friends again, felt emotion again and wasn’t alone anymore. I don’t have to be alone and miserable. Behind the fastened doors of my silent home is an incredibly vibrant world. Living. Every time I need to get somewhere in the City of London, I walk. Just to fall in love with the spirited streets, the structures, the history, the visions, the pulse. Breathtaking. But I admire the sights on my own – because I prefer it that way. I was 17 when, as a heart-broken teenager waiting for him to text me back, I fell in love with the City. I stepped off the train at 09:30 and disappeared. It was ...

So, a few days ago I declared that I was off to buy some laxatives to clear out my podgy belly. Took one. Nothing. Took two. Standard. Took three. And spent all day at work cramped over in severe pain and running to the loo every half hour. Oh my god did I curse myself. 8am to 5pm sat in an office, feeling like something inside me had collapsed. What I would give to go back to uni already and spend my days curled up under my duvet! I am sick of maintaining my weight. I'm working so hard on restricting my calorie intake and nothing is happening. Although I haven't exercised for like two weeks or something - maybe three. That's disgusting. I need to sort it out. I was a member of my gym at uni, and loved it. Now that I'm back home I can't get a gym membership anymore because my Mum believes in saving money over being healthy. She controls everything I spend and everything I do when I'm living with her. Working in an office with these long hours leaves me no time ...

Mmm it's not so bad sometimes, is it? And the second I've written that, the tummy rumbles - it is such an attention seeker. Well I'm gonna teach it a lesson by ignoring it's pathetic cries. My fast is still going well and I am still smiling! Instead of raging headaches and wanting to sleep, I just feel really healthy and happy. I had a day off from all activity yesterday. I am a bad, bad person, but to make up for it, I enjoyed a killer session in the gym today. 600 calories on the treadmill alone and then 1,000 metres in the pool. Usually I'm knackered by the time I get into the swimming pool (always my last activity) but today I was just hammering out the laps easily... can't explain it, but certainly not gonna grumble! I've always had severe hangups about the size of my arms and rather than moaning about it, I've taken to spending that little bit extra time in the gym to use all the machines that work out the arms.Even in the last week alone I'v...