Right. 37 years old. Very messed up attitude to food and now a size 24. I look like a bouncy castle poured into a polkadot frock and cinched with a belt. And I kinda like it. Is that messed up? I like the way I look. I like my fabulous boobs. I still have an hourglass shape and my fat means I look young cos they're inflating all my wrinkles.
But I'm infertile. I have one knackered fallopian tube, and possibly some damage to the other. I need a BMI of around 30 to be eligible for my one allotted shot at IVF on the NHS, and then, even if we pay for more (somehow) I still need to be under BMI 35 for private treatment. Which is... upsetting. But probably fair: cos the truth is, that while my vanity can live with what I see in the mirror, I am utterly *knackered*... too tired. My feet are in agony if I spend the day on them; I can't cope with much walking on the flat - forget hills; my knees are shagged from an old acting injury - but the weight isn't helping and I can't kneel or crouch without pain... Not ideal for motherhood.
I was a skinny (hungry) kid that ballooned when they left home and subsequently I've tried almost every diet and drug therapy there is - but it all went pear-shaped 7 years ago when I developed chronic Binge Eating Disorder and since then, none of my dieting strategies works. So this has to. This is my Last Chance Saloon.
I start on 1st August. Eek!