Blonde Logic's Stream of Consciousness/Diary

After nearly three weeks, I have noticed something. By abstaining, and not having food as my focus, in just a short few weeks I am starting already to see it differently. For one thing, I have notice that normal people eat a LOT of food. That must mean I ate a LOT a LOT of food.

Having a meal with my inlaws last week, I was rathar amazed to see the amount of food on their plates. What I used to eat with them. And they are slim, normal people. It really looked obscene, this entire plate full of food, with food on top of food even.

I notice now colleagues at work, who go down to the kanteen in the morning and get a full english breakfast. Then just 2 or 3 hours later, they are back down there for lunch. Then there are the trips to the vending machine in the afternoon, plus whatever tin of sweets have been awarded for reaching some ridiculous target, that gets passed around and devoured in no time at all. Then presumably they all go home and eat a big meal as well. Most of them, are slim. I can only assume they are very active physicially.

At the grocery store tonight, which as you may know was a bit of a shock and struggle for me - seeing so much food everywhere....all the items with their own evil voices trying to tempt me....there is just SO much food! Do we, humans, really need that much food? That much selection?? Is it not a tad excessive? Or is it just that my senses are hightened for not being able to eat anything?

I received an email the other day - I wish there was some way I could post it here. I will look in to that. It showed families from several different countries, with a weeks worth of food laid out in their lounges, or huts, or alleys, depending which country. It also showed the cost spent on food. It was really something. All of the western-ised countries had loads and loads of food. And lots of packaged items. As it went down through the Third World type countries, and the poorer countries....it was almost all fruit, veg, grains, etc. And a very minimal amount.

Have we just been caught up in a culture of glutteny? There is certainly more food now then I ever saw in a kitchen when I was a child. And we were not deprived, or poor, or anything. We were normal, middle class family, with food always on the table. But our lives did not revolve around it.

Why has food become such a big thing? How did it become such a big thing for me? I was not raised on junk. We never ever even had crisps in the house unless there had been a big party. Normally there was none. We never ever had Coke, or Soda. It was a realy big thing to be at a little friends house and have a coke. A reaaaaal big thing. We always had a big bowl of fruit on the table. We did not have a deep fat fryer, not that I do now, but nothing was fried. Fried chicken was a rare and special treat if we went out for dinner. Nothing was ever served fried at home - no frozen french fries - nothing.

We ate healthy family meals, all of us together, at the table without the TV on. We rarely had dessert. Unless it was a special occasion. We were not made to clean our plates, and if we wanted seconds we were allowed, but not often taken. There were no issues, pressures, consequences. We were just 'normal'.. After all the homework was done and if we were watching TV as a family, the snacks passed around the room were cut up apples and oranges. And they were wonderful and satisfying. If we were hungry before dinner, a usual snack was a chunk of iceberg lettuce with a small amount of dressing or sour cream to dip it in - not some tupe of cheese squirted on biscuits, or fruit mashed till it was unrecognisable and smeared on a platic paper to be peeled of and eaten. We drank milk with dinner, not coke, not juice or some artifically flavoured drink. Milk or water.

I just am beginning to see food in a different light. I know it is quite cliche - but it really is true. Food should be eaten to live....we should not live to eat.

I often wonder too, thinking about my familys eating habits. Holidays and camping trips always consisted of an awful lot of fresh fruit. It was a special day if we stopped for an ice cream cone. It was not an everyday occurance. Or an every week occurance, or every month. There were no coffee shops with whip cream piled on top of your coffee. Or coffe blended with cream and massive amount of sugar and artifical flavours. Or 2 or 3 burgers on a sandwhich. One was always enough. Bacon was for breakfast. It did not have to be added on to everything. And the same goes for cheese. you had a cheese sandwhich, or a slice of cheese for a snack. Not a cheese omelette, and burger with cheese, a pizza with extra cheese, chips with cheese, cheese with cheese.

It has become just so very excessive!!!!!

Are we victims of our own circumstances, or are we victims of a culture that has become obessed with more and more and more food? And why just us - why not everyone.

Food for thought. Thats what I want. A nice big bowl of food for thought.
 
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wow. inspiring stuff. It totally makes sense.
Its today culture though. Where there is money to be made people will make it. Hense the huge amont of foods/convenient foods/ foods that simply didnt exist years ago being around.
I know that since iv been doing this, I have simply not known what to do with all my spare money. How scary is that?
We live in a culture where we spend money before it is even earnt- and the easiest quickest and most satisfying instant thing to spend it on? food!
a meal out, a takeaway, a weekly shop, "just the neccesities" "just getting some bread and milk etc"
Its crazy. Its like a habit. I would literally go to sainsburys on a friday night if i had nothing to do.
We are obsessed with shopping- and for fat people- they dont want to go clothes shopping- so they go food shopping! hense the obesity problem. Its a viscious circle. and one that I wont get sucked back into!!
xx
 
DAY 22

At group last night, we were asked, "Who do you blame for your weight", knowing really that we ourselves are to blame, but as humans do, she wanted to know who else we accused. There were a lot of vaired responses. My initial replies were first, my brothers, because they were the first people in my life to ever call me fat. And second, me ex-husband, because as it went, the love he gave me was conditional on how much I weighed. But I did not know that for a very long time.

Thinking about it further, if we had more time to think about it, I would have simply said Spite. I know Spite is not a "who", but Spite played a huge role in how I got here. Confirming what I know, but do not like to admit, that I am responsible.

Thinking back on the early days of my first marraige, I know now I was not happy. And I should not have said "yes" when he asked me to marry him. But I feared no one else ever would. Three weeks or so before the wedding, I lost all interest in anything involving intimacy with him. But I denied those feelings. I didn't listen to my gut. I blamed it on pre-nup nerves. On the night of our wedding, I wanted to go to sleep. Not a good sign.

I loved him....but at some level, despite his asking me to spend my life with him, I did not feel he loved me. I felt empty that night. But the deed was done, and having grown up with two parents who loved each other unconditionally until one of them died, I was determined to make my marraige as successful. Some way.

I tried to have the same marraige my parents did. But he came from a completely dysfunctinal family where the words, "I love you" were probably never spoken. Not out loud anyway, and porbably not silently either. Little did I know, the next 15 years would be spent at cross purposes.

I tried to be the "perfect wife". I decorated the house. I planted the garden. I became a very good cook. I thought months in advance of the perfect birthday or christmas or anniversary present for him. Knowing full well, there would not be any long thought of gift for me on my occassions. But I thought, if I can show him how my mom and dad were, he would learn. An exercise in futility.

All my efforts were met with a modecom of appreciation. Nothing that ever matched my enthusiasm in planning events, surprises, special moments. I was always dissappointed. Sometimes bitterly. But I kept trying. I kept myself nice. Always dressed nice, hair done, make up on. Had friends over for dinners and barbeques. But nothing I did ever filled me with any happiness at all. It just didn't make any difference what I did. He could not show me love. In 15 years, he never once said, "I love you." I was just meant to "know" it. Fifteen years!!

Years went by, and I learned to hide my dissappointment. Cried when noone was looking. Took pleasure in getting the appreciation I wanted from him, from my friends and their partners instead. Always hoping he would see their appreciation and realise how lucky he was. But that never happened. And I began to resent it. And I began to become a bitter inside, but always smiling on the outside. I wouldn't want to make anyone uncomfortable now, would I? I am the "happy" one. I am the one that made sure everyone else was happy. But what about me?

I began to get more involved in my art or my music- would have been lost without my piano and guitar. But my art was key. Mainly pottery at the time. I poured the love I had into the clay, because it was happy to receive it. And it did show it's appreciation. These lumps of clay transformed in to beautiful peices of art. Some even contain my tears. They were me. That became my life. My pottery. Then my drawing. And then years later, my paintings. I poured my pain and loneliness out on to blank canvasses, or into cold wet peices of earth I could shape into beautiful shapes. Something I felt I did not, nor ever would have. A beautiful shape.

It soon felt as if I was married to inanimate objects I created, and I simply shared a house with a man.

I could never understand what I had done wrong. I did everything my mother did. At the time, I thought that wa enough. Why could he not love me, like my father loved my mother? Didn't I deserve that?

Cracks became more and more apparent in the marraige. And then one day I discovered something that my husband had kept secret from me. For years. It was painful, and traumatic, what I discovered, and I cannot talk about it here. Not yet. But the ground dropped out from under me when I realised I was facing something I could not confront. I was scared and confused. I was the adaptive child. If I confronted him, it would have made him terribly uncomfortable. Much better I keep it to myself and let it eat up my insides.

Soon, our seperation of spirits began to show itself in a more outwardly fashion. And the arguments began. Small ones at first. But at least it was reaction! It was emotion!! It was SOMETHING. But, I am not a good fighter. I can't throw barbed words that cut like a razor. I can not shut someone out making they feel insignificant, invisible, unimportant, unworthy of love. I was learning how it felt to receive those, but by nature, I could not fight fire with fire.

Feeling very strongly about the vows I took, I had to find a way to make the marraige work. Divorce was not an option. Stubborn? Frightened? Stupid? Naive? Dedicated? Loyal? Yes. On all counts.

It was during those times that I turned to food. If I couldn't get to the studio to work with my clay, or had "drawers block" or was to late to bang on my pirano keys, I turned my love into wonderful, delectible delicious meals. I poured my love into what I cooked, and had it returned to me when I ate it. That I believe is when food became my "friend". I put on very small amount of weight during this time. No surprise. But not much. 10-15 pounds tops.

I went to Weight Watchers, and I lost weight. But I still did not receive love in return. So, food became my friend again. This pattern became the routine. Gain 15 - lose it. Gain 20, lose 15. etc. But as I was slim to begin with, this weight gain only made me mildly overweight I was a beleive between a size 12 and 14 most of the time during the early yo-yo years.

There were two incidents that happened, again, not ready to talk about them just yet, but two moments in my life, life cagn, ireversble events, that emptied me of my goodness. And I was shutting down.

The fighting got worse. My dissappointment became to great to keep to myself anymore. And one day, I finally did what I tried so hard, for so long not to do....I broke down. And I cried. I let my hurt and emotion show. And I looked at my husband, after he rolled off a list of things he expected me to change about who I was. I cried out that I could not fix the marraige alone. That he had to change too, that I could not take his being mean anymore.

And then it happened.

Ten words that would change my life cut through the anger laced air, and left me, for once in my life, absolutely speechless. He said,

"I will be nice to you, when you lose weight."

I can see his face now, the hate and disgust in his eyes, as I am writing this, as clearly as I did that day. And it fills me with such a lump deep in my throat, just like it did that day. Even still. And for some unknow reason, I stopped loving anything. But most importantly me. And that was quite unfamiliar territory coming from a family that learned very early on the value of unconditional love.

The love I had, turned to something spoilt. Something rotten.

Hello Spite.

I no longer wanted his love. I wanted nothing from him. I d I did not want his gaze. I did not want his attention. I did not want his approval or appreciation for anything I did. And I certainly did not want his hands on me ever again.

So, I ate. And ate. And ate, until I felt safe from hs touch, his desires, anything hat would involve any type of intimacy with him. And I lived like this for a further 7 or 8 years. And during that time, I kept filling that emptiness with food. And I learned to hate myself. And that is how I lived until one day, years later, I had an Adult moment. One rare moment, where I had such clarity, and I listened, finally to my gut. My heart no longer spoke to me. And I made the decision to go.

I have never been the same since. Unfortunately, the events of my marraige, those dissappointments were compouded by the death of my father. And, I was soon lost. And year after year, pound after pound, I went further away. I am only half the person I once was, living in a body twice the size it once was.

Spite.

I did it to myself.

There is no one else to blame.

There is no one else to save me. And only time will tell, if the lighthearted me that was left behind, bruised and battered by words alone....if she will come back.

I often wonder if that is why I have never been successful in losing weight. What if I do lose it all - this battle suit that has become my protector....what if I lose it, and I am still only half a person? What then?

Spite.
 
Day 22 the good news.

Wow. I guess I really needed to purge. Sorry to go on an on. This is what comes from having your best girlfriends living 6000 miles away from you!! :eek:

Anyway, now, to end the day on a more positive note....today was brilliant. Not once did food cross my mind. A welcome change as the last two or three days have been very tough, wtih images of all sorts of wonderful delights dancing through my head!

The water went down without any effort.

I feel in total control.

And my work trousers are getting very very roomy in the bum and legs - particulary the back and outter thighs. Come on waist! Catch up and get in the next size down!!!!!

Oooh, and in addition, another thread reminded me,,,,,I can see so clearly in my above post how I was in Victim mode in my marraige, and much of my life since then if I am honest. Vitcim, and Adaptive Child. I think those are two strong areas to look into!!

Lots to learn, ready to learn!
 
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Well that's a post and a half, had me totally captivated if I'm to be honest. Bloody hell BL, you're lucky you came out to be the woman that you are and I really think that you should stand up and congratulate yourself for that.

I don't think you are that woman any longer, I think you're the new and improved you (this is only my opinion based on the little knowledge I have) - you as you are now sound and appear to be so much more than you were then ..... you may be larger now than you were but you won't be for much longer and I really hope that you are happy with the whole new you that you'll see before you - that's you inside and out - I think you should be.

xx
 
Definitely not half the woman BL. Once we admit that we no longer need the armour of the fat suit we've protected ourselves with, then we become the full woman. The real warrior soul inside who is no longer afraid to show the world what she is without the 'jolly fat girl' veneer. So not half the woman - all the woman. Facing up to the hard facts, accepting the painful episodes of our lives and deciding that despite all of the hurt and unfairness, we don't need to punish ourselves anymore.

You have been extremely generous with your insights and your journey, and so supportive of everyone else on this forum. As you you shrink, you also grow.

Thanks for your honesty
 
Totally agree with those 2.
You definitely are not the girl you used to be, you are far more than that.
CurlyGurl has a lovely way of putting things, and she is quite right.
:hug99:
 
Well BL thank you for sharing your feelings and thoughts with us.

Only today in our group I mentioned that I was actually beginning to feel real whole FEELINGS not muffled one. They dont necessarily feel nice, but they werent as bad as I first imagined and I now am beginning to believe that I can handle them. The layer of fat we hide behind is being broken down and as we go through our journey we are gonna learn so much.
 
I really dont know what to say to that. You are most certainly a survivor. You have broke away from these horrible situations and are well and truly getting yourself back on track. One thing to remember- this time round you are loosing weight for yourself and nobody else. And that is why you WILL reach all of your goals- becasue the only person you really need to impress now is yourself.
and lets face it- you are the most important person to yourself.
Thanks for sharing your story with us- you should be proud that you have come so far and are still fighting =]
xxxxxx
 
Wow. Thank you so much for all your really kind comments. You all made me cry, but in a nice way.

I have really missed having girlfriends to talk to. I have been away from home for 7 years now, and have never found anyone here I could confide in, and I have missed that so much. I may bleat on at times, and it may sound pathetic. But really, I am not a pathetic person....I just need to unpack all the baggage I have been carrying around, and sort it once and for all.

Its really helpful to "get it off my chest", and I appreciate your taking the time to read and offer comment. When I started this thread, I didn't know if anyone would read it- it was really just a way for me tokeep all my thoughts in on place. But it is helping me. And so are all of you.

Thanks ever so much. I now think of you as my new "girlfriends", cause you letme blab on an on, making me feel less homesick.

Big hugs to each and everyone of you.

XXXXX
 
You keep blabbing on BL.......... You are great and I know exactly where you are coming from with not having friends to confide in............................... I always struggle with that on... I don't trust at all..... if you read my blog Mandy's Life Battles you may get an insight into why............

You have helped me immersely... so keep up the good work and keep posting

Hugs.
xxxx
 
Mandy - <<hugs>> You too have been through an awful lot. I am so happy your life has changed. Now it is time to chase all those old demons away, ay? I lost my dad too, under different circumstances of course. When he died, my life changed irreversibly. I just want to say, you are so pretty. You're before and afters are amazing, and you are just lovely.

We'll get there, won't we? Of course we will!!!

XXX
 
Well that is my aim to get back to their........ I have those after pictures all over my work desk to remind to keep going and in my purse!!! and hung them up in my wardrobe too!

WE CAN AND WILL DO THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
I was talking to my husband last night, and commenting on how I am 27 days in to this, and how easy it has been. I commented that I wish I would have found LL earlier. He offered some insight, and said if I had, it may not have been successful then. He pointed out over the last two years I have faced some really difficult things that I had buried for so so long. For over 20 years, I denied myself to face something I did many many years ago, and I never allowed myself to greive as a result, to own the result of my actions. When I faced it - when it finally pushed its self to the front of my mind and said, "YOU WILL FACE THIS, NOW!!!!" it was one of the most traumatic moments of my life. And it was very painful. But for the first time I began to talk about it. And I was able to show regret and remorse....and begin to forgive myself. I don't think I have fully. But I have begun.

I have also in the last year or so, begun, finally, to try and find a place for the grief I have felt nearly every single day since my dad died in 1993. Even though it makes me cry, even now, I think I have begun to find the proper place for those feelings. It is amazing how some people can leave such an indelible imprint on your lives, and be as vital to you as your organs. When he was gone, I just really lost it- felt as if a big part of me died too. People told me I woould get over it. Those were lies. I have not gotten over it - I have just gotten very good at hiding it. I know I have some work to do in this area still, and the one previously mentioned. But at least the doors are opened....ad the locks have been thrown away. While it is scary, and painful, it is better then being buried and silently sabatoging any chances of growing in life.

DH felt that these issues were probably blocking my success from previous attempts. And were partly responsible for the weight gain in the first place. And that I have done a lot of hard work addressing them, and owning them. It made me feel good, these comments of his. Sometimes I wonder "does he even really understand what goes on in my head", and it would seem he does.

WHen I wa younger, up till I was about 22 or 23, I partied an awful lot. I experimented with drugs. A lot of drugs. I found some were good for making you feel up! And some were good for making you feel down. Some made you full of energy, and some made you sleep. SOme made me outgoing and confident, and others made me introspective and comfortable in solitude. There was something for everything. So I unlearned how to feel all those things on my own. They, as uhealthy as they were, were my coping mechanisms. Whatever I needed or wanted to feel, I could arrange it.

When I met my first husband, a requirement of our relationship was that I give up all drugs. Which was in itself a very good idea. And I did. I had not clouded my head to the point I lost all common sense...and I knew that road was better then the road I was going down. So I packed it up and retired my partying ways. But then, when all the dissappointments in my marraige started presenting themselves, I was ill-equipped with the tools to deal with them. There was no subtance, no pill, no smoke, no powder - there was nothing I could call on to help me cope. Except food. So, as said before, food became my drug. It could do all those same things. Lift me up! Put me down! Make me outgoing by sharing it with guests, or make my find solitude by stuffing myself in private. It could provide all the same reactions that drugs could do.

So even now, away from the reltionship problems, these other events in my head required some kind of substance to keep them buried. But time always wins out, and they fester and make their way to the surface and there you have it - things that must be faced and dealt with.

My goal is to make happiness and contentment my new drugs. And acceptance. I must accept life is not perfect. Life can hurt, and life can bring immense happiness. And it is OK to feel all the various emotions that come with life. Even the painful ones. They do not need to be quashed by a myriad of flavours and textures. It is OK to feel pain, and it is OK to feel joy. And quite necessary as well for you cannot have one without the other.

While I often find myself in pensive daydreams, lost in thoughts and memories, which usually bring me to a very sad place, I probably would not go back and change things if I could, because then I would not become who I am today. And I am really a pretty decent gal.

I would like to learn however not to mask my feelings. I am and have been for a very long time the Adaptive Child....always trying to make people happy. Comfortable. I cannot stand conflict, mine or anyone elses. I have spent much of my life bouncing around trying to play for each team, keeping everyone happy. Bigging up my brother despite all his shortfalls to his ex-wife in order to keep them at peace so we can all see the children, and then bigging her up to him, so he doesn;t blow up and ruin the pssibilities....always the middleman. Thats just one example, it has been the same in so many circumstances. Always me, with a smile and a positive antidote. Always a bloody smile on. Forever the f*cking cheerleader with my pom poms at the ready. Even when I have been dying inside. And then, the moment everyone is happy and out of range, come the tears. The private tears. The crying times. WHen no one is looking.

No one expects me to feel down. Or to be mad. Or sad. If I am, it is as if I am breaking some rule. I find that really unfair, and something I have grown to hate. Friends, family, DH, anyone can have a bad day and stomp around, or flounce, but it would seem I am not allowed too. Have not been alowed to. It makes them too uncomfortable - is it they do not know what to do as that has become my job? I am the one to step in when someone is mad or crying, but if that person mad or cryng is me, then who will step in? No one. This pattern must change.

I realise, not only must I learn to deal with my emotions - but so must others. Interesting.

Well, that is my Sunday morning ramble. And it probably makes no sense at all. But its out now.
And it feels better.

Life sure is one big puzzle.
 
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Really intersting read, I felt in many paragraphs I was there with you. Regarding your dear dad I can vouch you will never get over it, but what happens is you learn to deal with it and accept it.

When I read about the cheerleader I could see myself there so I can emphasize with you.

I also understand how having to feel the feelings can be difficult, as yesterday proved to me. But we can do it I felt them yesterday and I have lived to tell the tale.

Love your ramblings BL.
 
Hi Lady

Thanks for understanding. :) You know, when my dad died, I learned two things:

1. The "friends" that tell you, 'Life goes on' have never lost someone they love, and

2. You never 'get over it'. I have said that for a long time - you just get used to it, but it's always there, in the background, never very deep either.

At least that's been my experience.

It is horribble isn't it, when your friends and family become so accustomed to you always being the people pleaser....it just leaves no room gor you to be human. They don't know how to cope - ecause if it were someone else, they would expect us, the cheerleaders to step in and make it all right! lol

I'm glad you like my ramblings. It is really helping me to put some of these thoughts down on paper to refer back to. :) It's hard to admit some things. I am not proud of my partying ways - but they are a part of me, and made me who I am today. And I figure there are worse things I coudl have done!! I didn't hurt anyone....except myself. :)
 
An Analogy

This is the first day of month two - 1/3 of the way through Foundation!!

I thought I would share an analogy I have come up with.

As I have said previously, there was a time in my life when I was quite slim - actually had a cute little bod as evidenced in old photogtaphs. However the lifetime chatter in my head prevented me from seeing it. But I now know it to be true. So I have come up with this analogy:

Years ago, I used to drive a really nice car. Cute, compact, had all the features. Lot's of get up and go. There were some other nice cars about, but mine was nicer then some. Unfortunately, I didn't appreciate my car. And I drove it hard, neglected it, and used cheap fuel to make it run. I didn't polish it, and the paint faded. The tires got old and worn, and I never had it tuned up. Eventually, my car broke down. It no longer shined, the interior features broke, and it just did not run well. After a series of false starts, it finally hit a brick wall.

It was taken to a shop, and deemed an awful lot of work to repair. I had no interest or funds to repair it. It didn't matter to me. I didn't care. Couldn't care. So I was given a loner. A ratty old car with no special features. Dull paint, and a bleak interior. Nothing bright about it at all. A few attempts were made to make it shine, but the polish soon wore off after each attempt. I gave up trying to make it shine, and just kept driving it, always admiring all the nice shiny cars on the road. I thought, "Why do they get to have nice shiny cars? Why did I let my nice car get so trashed. If I had taken better care of it, and appreciated what a nice ride it was.....I wouldn't be driving around in this old klunker. Even the horn doesn't work!!"

One day, after several break downs in my little trashed loaner car, I realised, I could get my nice car back if I really wanted to. And I decided at this point, it was no longer about having the shiniest blinged out car - but it was about having a car that was clean, tidy, well maintained and got me happily from one place to another. A nice paint job was a bonus, but reliability and safety were forefront.
But all the repairs that had to be done - it was not cheap!!! But I was tired of riding in this old broken down loaner. I no longer felt safe - I had to change my priorities.

So I made the decision. WIth some hard work, and patience, I could get my nice shiny car back. It would take time, as I could not afford a quick fix, nor were there any quick fixes. Not miracle overnite fixes anyway. I would have to save, and pay for the repairs a little at a time. But eventually, I can get that car spiffed up again, and will be able to drive it proudly, with all the other shiny cars on the road. And I will never have to be that car broken down on the side of the road again, watching all the others buzz by, enjoying their rides. I CAN BE ONE OF THEM TOO!

So I have made an arrangement with the mechaninc. I will work hard to help get the car back - it's not just down to him, he is no miracle worker - I must invest in the repairs, and it will be hard graff as I have never been very mechanical. But he will help, and together, we will work out the mecahincal failures, and the cosmetic failures, and in time, I will have my shiny, comfortable, realible car back. And when I do, I will take the best care of it forever. It will remain shiny, and filled up with the best pettrol, and the interior will be well looked after as will the paint, and it will never be neglected again.

So, to sum it up. I used to drive a very nice car, now I am in a car that I do not want - it is not mine, and I am going to get my old car back.

I am a Porsche trapped in a Skoda's body.

Time to break free and burn some rubber!!!!
 
nice way of looking at it =]
iv defo started to see an improvement in my daily routine since loosing weight. Slapping on lotions and oils and perfume etc etc.
Its funny how we work isnt it?
xxxx
 
It is, isn't it Kellie. It's nice to be thinking about my skin and other things. I have been very lucky wtih my genes,(one of the better genes I got!! LOL) in that I have pretty good skin overall so it has fared the neglect OK, but it can't hurt to start treating it better!! :D
 
I'd always bitten my nails really badly until I started doing LL last year, then I let them grow and the were gorgeous, they turned into really strong and beautiful long nails....... Don't know if you remember me writing about the skirt (size 14) that scared me and threw me back into eating??? Well I knew that I was giving up on the diet as I suddenly realised that I'd also bitten my nails off and then continued not to look after them.

I've been doing this diet a month again now and guess what???? Yep, I've got lovely nails growing again.
 
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