A Head Full of Beauty

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...

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...

I found out that 15 years before he died from cirrhosis of the liver, my dad was prescribed Antabuse - in other words, he was being treated for alcoholism. So he knew he was an alcoholic long before it killed him. I had always thought it was a secret. I questioned her about it. "If he knew, then why didn't he stop? Why didn't he get help?" She defended him, "It was an addiction. He tried, I know he did try, he really did try... but he couldn't stop." So she knew too. "But he knew! He should have got help!" I stopped myself from telling her she should have made him get help as well. "No, Ophelia, you don't understand. It's an addiction... like a drug addict... they know what they are doing is harmful, but they can't stop. I know he did try." So when I opened cupboard doors and found secret stashes of vodka, inconspicuous coke bottles filled with white liquid, cups of 'washing up water'...that was him trying was it?...

This post is not so much about thinspiration , but the women who inspired my vision of beautiful perfection, made me believe in it, aspire to it... ....my head full of beauty inspiration. Vivien Leigh I've been in love with Vivien Leigh since I was about 5 years old. Well...to be truthful I was in love with Scarlett O'Hara. Gone with the Wind has been my favourite film since I saw it as a little girl. I was completely blown away by her; her beauty, her courage, her power...Vivien is absolutely tiny in some scenes of Gone with the Wind, her figure was perfect. According to the book, the character of Scarlett had an 17 inch waist. W-O-W. (Proof that my lifetime idol had an ED surely!) This last picture is my favourite of the whole movie. It's where she walks into Ashley's birthday party and knows everyone is talking about her, but her poise and the look on her face just says it all: "I'm beautiful. I'm better than all of you." Oh, I love it. I've wan...

I should really be doing some uni work. And instead I have just spent the last 4 hours reading blogs and checking out thinspo ... I should really stop. I'm gonna spend the rest of the evening carrying on with my Ana Book - a little notebook I carry around with me that's full of thinspo and little pro- ana quotes and stuff like that. I don't seem to ever actually use it (the idea is to get it out when I want to binge and use it to make me stop!) but adding to it always cheers me up and gets my motivational motor running. The walls of my room here at uni are covered with models from magazines. One of my favourites is the Lacoste Touch of Pink perfume advert, and I also love the girl in the Armani Code perfume advert. Always wonder if my friends think I'm a lesbian when they come into my room... I mean I've got the standard Justin Timberlake posters etc, but still a great deal more beautiful women! I just love them though, just love them so much for being so perfe...

I’m sitting on the train at the moment because I’ve been at home for the weekend – expect it was a weekend that extended to Thursday! I don’t where you are reading this, but my hometown is London, England. On Sunday night and all through Monday we were hit by the heaviest snow in 18 years. This resulted in the whole of our glorious capital city being effectively shut down! No big red buses roaming the streets, no trains and hardly even any taxis! Shameful? Just a bit. So anyway, no one could get to work, and I doubt most people even stepped outside their front door. Four days later and the snow is still sitting thick on the ground and hasn’t melted an inch! It’s absolutely foreign. You should have seen me this morning dragging my lead-weight suitcase through the thick-set ice and snow on the paths. It was horrific! There was absolutely no point on having wheels on the bloody thing because it just wouldn’t move! So of course I was late, missed my trains, had to buy another really expens...

I said the word to James. Two nights ago, via text message: “When are we starting the list?” I sent it at about 1 a.m. 48 hours later and he still hasn’t replied, which is most unlike him. I don’t think he’s ever not replied to me in the whole time that I know him. James is the kind of guy who prides himself on being a gentleman even though everyone knows he is nothing of the kind underneath his clear-cut English accent and polished charm. Perhaps this is how he wins so many girls into bed with him? Well, needless to say, I still expect a reply at some point; unless he was having sex at the time I sent it or was similarly engaged with a girl of some description and therefore did not register receiving my text. Well, anyway it’s not a big deal to me, it was only going to be a past time to keep me amused. Another guy that featured a lot in my life last year was Oliver. (Perhaps I should start using false names in this blog in case I get identified…but then I’d only start getting confused...