I just about managed to pass the weigh in, with several glasses of water swimming inside of me, along with layered clothing and heavy bracelets. She noted me down as 43.3kg and said "that's about the same as last time isn't it?" I nodded and agreed, but in fact last time it was a bit higher at 44.2.

Next came the repeated subjects of weightgain and calorie increases. When asked how everything has been i used the same recorded answer of 'okay'. Stored in my memory as an immediate response. Mum agreed, said i'd been fine. I don't know if she really believes that or she's deliberately lieing for me, either way she's kidding herself. I think she's programmed herself to ignore what it is really happening. On the way home she muttered something along the lines of how i'm secretly being sick behind her back. We don't speak of purging, anorexia or bulimia in this house. It's always 'making yourself ill' or 'eating issues.' We shelf the mouldy items at the back of the cupboards and avoid them like the plague.

As usual i was very unresponsive. Yvonne must be so fed up of talking to someone who barely talks back. She wants me to find more of a structure in my day, and get involved in a group called 'connexions.' I just humoured her and half heartedly went along with it but there's no way. No way you'll get me interacting with *gasp* new people, those are the sort of occasions where i am left completely speechless through fear.

She expects me to have added atleast a few pounds by the next time i see her in a month. Although i have to meet with Jackie, my diabetic nurse, in two weeks when i'll be weighed too. I'm stuck between wanting to please everyone and knowing i won't let myself become any heavier. It's branded inside me, the desire to remain at risk, and to delve lower. A contract of no return, i'm struggling to maintain here as it is. I'm wary of what i could be capable of between now and the next apointment.

Purged many, many times already today. It's just disgusting really. My values are completely twisted, upside down and knotted together. This is not normal, but it seems just that. It has become my normality.