Going Strong-ish

I weighed myself today using the dodgy scales in my only tilted apartment and taking the reading which showed the heaviest weight, found that if the numbers can be trusted, I've lost about 16 pounds so far, which is good. 1 stone and two pounds lighter than when I began and so far, so good. I haven't found it at all difficult, so I just need to keep on doing what I'm doing and hope that the results continue coming.

These past few days have been easier than usual anyway because of some stomach bug I seem to have picked up. I have had absolutely no appetite and have been perpetually nauseous since Saturday, not to mention the frequent trips toothed bathroom every half an hour! Urgh. But the freedom from having any desire to eat has been pretty liberating.

Yesterday was a bit mad. I felt pretty rubbish from the minute I got up and managed to get a cup of coffee into me, but around 4.00 pm I thought I really should try and get something into my system, just so I could take my vitamins. So I ferreted around the bags of chocolate munchables in the living room and settled on a Mars Bar. I know, not the kind of thing one would usually associate with a diet, but when you're not actually consuming any calories from anywhere else, 270 calories from a Mars Bar isn't exactly going mad. And it sort of worked, because it did actually make my stomach feel a little better and I was able to take my supplements safe in the knowledge that they'd be absorbed. 

But then I got it into my head that I wanted to try and eat something else. Something ridiculous. I decided I wanted a pizza. I wasn't hungry, I just thought that I could have a few slices and my stomach would be fine. So when my other half got home from work we decided to order from Domino's; some special offer where you get 2 medium sized pizzas, a portion of wedges, a garlic bread and a bottle of Coke for £19.99. I ordered the Mexican hot because I love jalapenos and when it turned up I thought it'd be great. So I ate half of it. Within minutes of taking my last bite I became so acutely aware of this huge mass of chewed up, disgusting mixture sitting in my stomach, I felt ill. I also felt kinda guilty for having ingested so many gross calories of fat and processed white flour/sugar. 

The Domino's website only has a calorie count for the larger slices, not the medium ones. But I had ordered an extra topping of chicken on my medium pizza, so figure the calorie count is probably around the same as the large one per slice, without the extra chicken. That puts each slice at about 213 calories each. Four of those and we're just over 850 - far too many for one sitting. So partially because I just felt so ill and partly because I didn't want to have eaten all that pizza, I went straight to the toilet and puked the lot up. Felt a whole lot better for it too. I just couldn't keep it in there.

Today I felt marginally better so I had a yoghurt for dinner. Not too bad at 121 calories. And I was fine for about two or three hours until I had the massive urge to eat the last two leftover slices of pizza from last night. No idea why, because I felt gross as soon as I'd eaten them, so naturally I had to go and purge them immediately. But my tummy felt icky afterwards so I decided to eat some chocolate, because there's something about the way that melted chocolate coats the inside of your empty stomach and makes it feel so much calmer and better. I had a Cadbury's Freddo at 95 calories, a skinny Dairy Milk at 110 calories and about 7 Bitsa Wispa bites at 133 calories. That's 338 calories from the chocolate, 121 from the yoghurt earlier on and 51 for the coffee I had for breakfast. That brings today's total of calories consumed (not including the purged pizza) to 510 calories altogether. That's not too bad really, I can totally live with that. 

I don't know what I'm going to eat tomorrow. I want to eat something small, so maybe a couple of slices of toast and a little bit of chocolate. Or maybe a Slim Fast shake. And lots of water throughout the day to flush my system out. I just know that I need to keep whatever calories I do consume to an absolute minimum. We're in September at the moment and I really would like to have lost another couple of stone by Christmas. Maybe that's asking too much, but it would really help keep me on track to start the next year having made some decent progress. I just need to stay strong, remember I'm in this for the long haul and keep reminding myself of the reverse thinspo hippo I want to make sick with envy.

Y'see, I'm not one of these fat girls who finds solace in hanging out with other fat chicks in some kind of sad deluded attempt to convince myself that it's okay to be grotesque pig. Fat acceptance groups are a tragic lie that perpetuate the myth that it's okay to be grossly corpulent. Everyone who tries to spout the spurious spiel of fat acceptance is either a perverse weirdo with a fat fetish, or in most cases a lazy, pathetic, weak, failure who hasn't managed to get their own weight problems under control. I refuse point blank to bow my head in decided agreement to capitulate to the fate of being forever fat. I don't feel better when I'm around other lardy retards or gain solace in the company of mutual massiveness. Fat people make me want to throw up because it's like looking in a mirror and having all my own faults shown up under fluorescent lighting where I can see how ugly I must look to others. Fat women are reverse thinspo and right now I have one particular person in my mind as my current reverse thinspo.

Fat Jackie. That's not her real name. I'm not going to print in here in case someone somehow makes the connection that this in my blog and figures out who I'm on about. Fat Jackie is a friend of my other half. She's not just fat, she's enormous. I already look thin stood next to her. She's just despicably slovenly with her appearance, never even attempts to make any effort to reduce how disgusting she appears to the public. She even posts photos of herself on Facebook in too-small vest tops, stretched across her 25 stone frame, breasts drooping in an ill-fitting bra, fat arms and bingo wings out for all to see. She is repulsive. So repulsive, I don't even know how my other half can bear to be around her. But she makes great reverse thinspo for me and truly motivates me to stay strong and keep on keeping on. Because I will never EVER let myself get like that. It's good to see how bad things can get if you just continue to let yourself go. It's an ever present, real life, (barely) human warning of how ugly you can really become if you just give up and spend your life stuffing cream cakes into your face.

I'm really looking forward to the day some time in the future when she looks at me and sees that I've noticeably lost weight. That I'm so much prettier, cute and confident than ever and that I make her look like something a bullock shat out in a cow field. I always do my make up immaculately before I go out anywhere as it is, but when she sees me sans the extra weight, I will have the perfect cute emo/goth outfit, awesome hair, perfect make-up and be radiating confidence. I just want to rub her disgusting face in it. Show her that anyone can lose weight if they're not a lazy, weak fucking heifer. She's such good thinspo, I'm actually feeling nauseated just thinking about her!! Everyone needs a good bit of reverse thinspo and there's plenty out there. I just wonder though, if she was ever strong enough to shed some weight, who SHE would use as HER reverse thinspo? Hee hee, she'd probably have to go online and find some bedridden fucking patient on a TV documentary about the super morbidly obese!

I know all that probably makes me sound like a total fucking bitch, but if you're a fat person yourself, you'll know that feeling you get when you walk into a room and then thankfully see the troll who's even fatter than you. You instantly relax, safe in the knowledge that she's the biggest, the fattest, the one taking up the most space in the room. You know she's going to look at you at some point and know what you're thinking, because she thinks that herself whenever she's lucky enough to be in that position. All women do it. Fat women especially. We feel as though the eyes of the most judgmental will fall upon someone else rather than us. We will slip just about under the radar of shame as the humongous harridan takes the medal for 'fattest whore in the room.' So yeah, maybe I am a bitch. But we're all bitches at some point if we really admit it. We all take that little bit of gratitude at another's misfortune, if it makes us feel slightly less bad about ourselves. 

Fat Jackie makes me sick, but that's fine by me. Because if I feel sick then I'm not going to want to be eating and that is the perfect result of reverse thinspo! I'm sure many of you out there have your own 'Fat Jackie' to help stop you when you want to reach for that extra biscuit, or eat that pizza without purging. I hope she helps you to stay strong and stays disgusting in her own right, because nothing can show up the beauty of our own successes, quite as well as the failed, unchanged hideousness of someone like good old Fat Jackie. 

And on that note dear readers, I think I shall call it a day. Delight in your own reverse thinspo and may Fat Jackie's forever abound to keep us all on the straight and narrow. 

Adieu

x