It's been a while since I posted. I don't know where the time goes really, but here's a few quick updates.
- I stayed with an old school friend over the weekend, and had so much fun, and her mum was really lovely about my weight loss, and it felt great. I don't know why I ended up having such a binge on Monday morning. I was hanging around in the kitchen downstairs waiting for my friend and her boyfriend to get up and for us all to have breakfast together, and... I don't really know, I just started eating. Randomly. Everything. I had: three slices of fruit cake, two extra chunks of marzipan, two chocolate digestive biscuits and a glass of milk, about five mini eggs, a cold sausage, about a quarter tub of ricotta cheese, and a banana. And then when we had breakfast, I had a slice of toast and butter. I felt really quite ill, but all I wanted to do for the rest of the day was eat more cake. By the evening I was coming down with a cold and sneezing incessantly, and I really couldn't give a fuck, so I ended up eating a whole pizza and a bowl of chocolate ice cream. I don't even like chocolate ice cream. Sigh. C'est la vie.
It was a stupid thing, but I refuse to beat myself up about it any more. Because after we had breakfast that morning, I went upstairs to clean my teeth, and I locked myself in the bathroom and turned a tap on and knelt down in front of the toilet and pressed my finger to the back of my throat to trigger my gag reflex. I retched and spat saliva into the toilet once, twice, before I pushed/pulled myself away and spashed water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror and told myself firmly to stop. This isn't the first time I've been to this point. It probably won't be the last. but the more I guilt myself the less likely I am to be able to continue to stop myself, and it is of vital importance than I continue to stop myself.
- In more positive news, I extended my longest run time to 41 minutes this morning, and felt like I could have kept going. I really want to try and increase my times since I've been lurking around the 30 minute mark since January. I'm staying with my parents for a week, so I've plenty of time to go running and the weather has been unbelieveably gorgeous. Literally. I have tan lines.
- This evening, my brother used the word 'skinny' to apply to me. I still don't quite believe it. In my mind, I guess, losing weight just makes me 'less fat'. I'm only just beginning to get my head around the idea that my weight/appearance is approaching 'normal', whatever 'normal' is. But the idea that someone could sincerely use the word 'skinny' to refer to me... it's beyond crazy.