Day 17-22

Day 17
Brought an argument of insane proportions - telling my other half how shit I constantly felt. I dont know if he even said what I think he did or if I've just turned a light hearted comment into feeling like shit. That day I only ate 2 crumpets and a portion of chips, miserably failed in a driving lesson and spent most of the day in tears wishing I was either thinner or dead. Thought the relationship was going to end and that was enough to tip me over the edge.

Day 18
I didnt really do anything all day. I kept myself to myself - avoided drinking and tried to sort my head out. Had a meeting around 3 so was away from home and didn't eat much - Also had a summer wardrove disaster as in... I have no clothes.  In the evening I went to my best friends leaving do - she's moving abroad so that was... emotional to say the least. Drank a few too many mojitos, ate quesidillias (why do they give you so many?!) and chips while my overly loving other half had steak. He's trying so hard to make me feel better and I think he gets that I go a bit mental when he says anything slightly derogatory.

Day 19
Ate toast in the morning... Can't really remember. Went to a clients house about a lucrative job in October then headed to the indian to celebrate. Ate too much. Gone back to puking between courses. Its really effective. Gets more out... And leaves space :)

Day 20
Had to work - ate 12 chips for breakfast then had sandwiches and crips for dinner plus 4 glasses of champange. I hate eating cold food for dinner. Strange feeling. Went back to my other halves and made him cheesey pasta for work the next day - I had a few mouthfuls then resorted to shit food. Crisps, chocolate biscuits and squash. Fat bitch.

Day 21
I didnt do anything much all day. Breakfast... Vegetables, egg and toast. Biiiig bike ride again. Felt good but I've cut up my legs again - pedal bit into my legs when I hit a ditch.
I had a cheese toasty for lunch... bleurgh. Drank vodka and a vile mix of port, vodka, WKD and rose that I found tucked under my bed. Made me quite ill. Thank god eh? When I got to boyfs I had a jacket potato. Felt really ill so got rid of that then woke up in the morning around 4am feeling like death - stabby stomach ache etc. I hope its the dodgy drink. It might be because I'm fucking my stomach again and its IBS fighting back with a passion.

Day 22
At work I ate 2 cuppa soups, couscous and a packet of crisps. With 2 frappachinos and alot of sicking.
At home I made a lovely risotto - ate too much obviously because I'm a retard and love feeling like if I dont puke I'll die.
Had a little watch of supersize vs super skinny. I've swung between a size 6 and a size 16. I'm eating less now than I did when I was at my smallest. Wish I could control my compulsive eating and be a normal happy size but it seems no matter how big or small I am I'm never happy with my figure.

At the moment I'm throwing up around 4 times a day which is nothing like as bad as it used to be and I seem to have lost the routine I once had. It used to be a ritual.
My father pointed out my ritualised eating. I never eat everything randomly. If I eat a varied meal I eat one section at a time. Even when I mix food together I do it methodically and then eat from the edge of the plate across and in - never from the middle. I cant leave a plate with food on it with out feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Eating colour by colour, not mixing foods, changing quantities, hating cold food as a meal, having to drink while I eat, being protective over my food... Fucking all sorts. Seems pointless - it all comes up the same colour.
Maybe I should head back to my NLP lady. Get her to sort my compulsive eating rather than just fight the purging. Should have finished te course in the first place not left - running away with a trace of disorder left - hiding it so I could call on it and build it if I ever wanted it back.
Silly girl.