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My (Food) Diary
Quod me nutrit, me destruit
Created on 2007-04-13 16:49:21 (#12718814), last updated 2007-09-09
1 comment received, 1 comment posted
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| Name: | angel_of_styx |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 1991-08-02 |
| Location: | Australia |
My name is Eve. I'm 15 going on 16. I'm currently living in Perth (boarding, actually) and hating it.
I'm just going to cut to the chase and say that I hate my life. Or more predominantly, I hate myself.
When I was a kid, I was very thin and energetic. I could run around for hours on end playing chase-y with my neighbors, jumping rope and getting into heaps of trouble. Everyday was an adventure and I was happy that it was.
Then I moved to Brunei with my father.
My father is a very doting man and I love him for his generosity and the values he upholds. He is my rock and without him, I would not know what I would be. Unfortunately, I did not discover this until very recently because I was too busy resenting him for making me fat.
My father is an athletic person. He's a runner, hiker and cyclist. He came forth in a cycling tournament in Borneo (similar to the Tour de France, asian style)a while back. He takes care of himself and his family and makes sure they are loved. He shows this by (ironically) giving them food.
This is what he did to me.
He would everyday insist my maid prepare a 'fulfilling' breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausages etc. For lunch, he would order back noodles, stirfrys and other FATTENING asian delicasies and for dinner, he and my stepmother (who is a toothpick size 2) would cook up a storm of equally heavy foods such as pasta and fried chicken.
In the span of 2 years, I ballooned from 25 kg to 63 kg. And I was only 4'7/8.
During that time, I never thought about my weight. Everybody told me I was a cute kid and never commented on my weight. Only my mother, being the superficial, materialistic and competitive bitch that she is, did. And I thank her for it.
When she saw how much I gained when she came to visit, she was adamant that I return with her to Singapore. She wanted me to be the 'beauty-in-the-making' that I once was (a child model). My father didn't let me go without a fight but my mother won the wrestle.
So I packed up (once again) and headed for 'the dot'. The animosity towards me could not have hit any harder. People were cruel. I was being teased, talked and pushed around.
My mother knew this would happen and hoped that it would be enough of an incentive to get me to lose weight. Her hopes were answered. I was crying every night, begging her to help me lose weight. She shared all her tips with me and dramatically restricted my diet and calorie intake.
I grew almost a whole foot and by the time I was 15, dropped to 51 kg. But I was still not happy.
But it didn't matter what I thought because mother dearest decided to ship me off to the land of kangaroo poop 'for the sake of my education'.
A month later, she got married to this British guy and had a bun in the oven. She was nice enough to send me the pictures of the wedding and ultrasound.
Boarding school, to put it lightly, sucks. No matter what they say about making it as homely as possible, know this: They lie. Freedom is almost non-existant. Everything has to go through them (to go out or work out). We're not allowed to go for a run without a partner! The foods are all prepared without the students say (except for lunch). And they are all fattening.
Chops (fat still intact with additional sauce), pasta, cauliflower and cheese, puddings etc all laid out for us. It's an ANA'S and a COE'S worst nightmare.
In ten weeks, I gained 3 kg. I am so f*cking pissed off at myself for getting out of control. I need to get my discipline back which is why I've set up a blog. Not to talk about my life but to keep track of what I eat. This is my online food diary and hopefully it'll be an incentive for me to watch what I eat.
Anybody who is interested in comparing foods, tips or getting into competition is welcome to do so.
I'm just going to cut to the chase and say that I hate my life. Or more predominantly, I hate myself.
When I was a kid, I was very thin and energetic. I could run around for hours on end playing chase-y with my neighbors, jumping rope and getting into heaps of trouble. Everyday was an adventure and I was happy that it was.
Then I moved to Brunei with my father.
My father is a very doting man and I love him for his generosity and the values he upholds. He is my rock and without him, I would not know what I would be. Unfortunately, I did not discover this until very recently because I was too busy resenting him for making me fat.
My father is an athletic person. He's a runner, hiker and cyclist. He came forth in a cycling tournament in Borneo (similar to the Tour de France, asian style)a while back. He takes care of himself and his family and makes sure they are loved. He shows this by (ironically) giving them food.
This is what he did to me.
He would everyday insist my maid prepare a 'fulfilling' breakfast of eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausages etc. For lunch, he would order back noodles, stirfrys and other FATTENING asian delicasies and for dinner, he and my stepmother (who is a toothpick size 2) would cook up a storm of equally heavy foods such as pasta and fried chicken.
In the span of 2 years, I ballooned from 25 kg to 63 kg. And I was only 4'7/8.
During that time, I never thought about my weight. Everybody told me I was a cute kid and never commented on my weight. Only my mother, being the superficial, materialistic and competitive bitch that she is, did. And I thank her for it.
When she saw how much I gained when she came to visit, she was adamant that I return with her to Singapore. She wanted me to be the 'beauty-in-the-making' that I once was (a child model). My father didn't let me go without a fight but my mother won the wrestle.
So I packed up (once again) and headed for 'the dot'. The animosity towards me could not have hit any harder. People were cruel. I was being teased, talked and pushed around.
My mother knew this would happen and hoped that it would be enough of an incentive to get me to lose weight. Her hopes were answered. I was crying every night, begging her to help me lose weight. She shared all her tips with me and dramatically restricted my diet and calorie intake.
I grew almost a whole foot and by the time I was 15, dropped to 51 kg. But I was still not happy.
But it didn't matter what I thought because mother dearest decided to ship me off to the land of kangaroo poop 'for the sake of my education'.
A month later, she got married to this British guy and had a bun in the oven. She was nice enough to send me the pictures of the wedding and ultrasound.
Boarding school, to put it lightly, sucks. No matter what they say about making it as homely as possible, know this: They lie. Freedom is almost non-existant. Everything has to go through them (to go out or work out). We're not allowed to go for a run without a partner! The foods are all prepared without the students say (except for lunch). And they are all fattening.
Chops (fat still intact with additional sauce), pasta, cauliflower and cheese, puddings etc all laid out for us. It's an ANA'S and a COE'S worst nightmare.
In ten weeks, I gained 3 kg. I am so f*cking pissed off at myself for getting out of control. I need to get my discipline back which is why I've set up a blog. Not to talk about my life but to keep track of what I eat. This is my online food diary and hopefully it'll be an incentive for me to watch what I eat.
Anybody who is interested in comparing foods, tips or getting into competition is welcome to do so.
Interests (5):
attention from people., feeling free and light., keeping secrets. power complex., obsessing over calories., satisfying hunger pains.
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