Weigh in 

So yes I’m fat. It’s official. My weight has gone up. I’m now much heavier. I guess that’s what eating out at the weekend does. Twice. All I think about all day long is food. My next meal. My next snack. I’mConstantly hungry. Constantly craving food. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m meant to be anorexic. I’m meant to be Starving myself but instead I’m just piling on the pounds getting fatter by the day. Heavier by the hour. It’s so hard. I’m enjoying my food. But feel so guilty afterwards. And then when weigh in happens it just knocks me down. Crushes me. Ruins my day. I feel fat. A fraud. Horrendous. Yes today I’m in my new size 6 jeans which I got on without even unbuttoning them. But that means nothing. My brain doesn’t register that means I’m small. All my brain registers is I’ve put weight on and I’ve got fat. The gap between my thighs is Shrinking. The rolls on my stomach are becoming more prominent. Yes to leave here I need to put weight on. Yes to live my life and get on with things I need to put weight on. Put to hear it. To see it. Is so hard. So so hard 

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