That said, can I whinge now? I'm feeling huge. I need a few days off food and, actually, life. Just a few days for Pepsi Max, books and solitude. I'm not really a solitary kind of person, I just like the idea of being invisible. It always happens during re-feeding, when all I want is to be invisible whilst I melt down the size of my thighs. I say that's all I want, but that's not true. In fact, I don't really want that at all, otherwise I suppose I would do it. The voice of the anorexia is louder than mine, but not more passionate. I'm the voice at the back with the valid reasoning, trying not to be taken in by the hysterics tyranny of the anorexia. I must fight, even if it feels as if I am doing so alone.
I'm working hard, it's just taking its toll a bit today. I'm drained, hitting a brick wall, and I don't know how long I can hang on. I'm constantly angry and teary and it's just not me. It's a different misery from how I felt when my weight was low and dropping because now I'm more aware. I don't know, I'm sure tomorrow I'll be feeling better; I've been so motivated this week, so don't worry. I'll get back on track. I'm just exhausted.