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My life's a wreck.

I woke up at twelve in the afternoon (as I have been doing so for the past week and a half), and I ate quite well up till six o'clock, when my mum came back and brought food. Fried noodles, fried rice and deep fried fish fillets. Could it have been any worse? I've hit 1600 calories. It's disgusting. And I haven't even exercised today.

Yesterday was pretty good though. I woke up late, but I did exercise for an hour and a half and I ate really well. I actually liked dealing with the nighttime, pre-bed hunger pangs. It made me feel in control.

(I can always feel in control again tonight, letting the pain in my abdomen stab through as I fall asleep.)

My family's going out for dinner, but since I already raided the leftovers my mum brought back, I'm staying in. Maybe I'll read a bit, watch some stuff. Played guitar just now, and I must admit that Despair In The Departure Lounge by Arctic Monkeys is a beautiful, simple song. I've got to work on my guitar picking skills, though.

(Like I have to work on so many things else.)

I've roped my mum in to join me for a run-walk in the late evening, about eight or nine. I really need to start cutting; I don't want to go back to school, getting looks from others that say 'Wow, you've gotten buffer!'. It's code-word for 'You fat ass'. I don't want to disappoint my coach, my friends. I can't.

Not being able to run's affected my entire life, pretty much. It was so large a part of my identity. I was known as The Runner. Then it gets ripped away, an injury to the shin due to stubborn overtraining. I can't sleep properly, eat properly, exercise properly or even function properly.

The past two weeks, I haven't been studying at all (save for one measly mathematics worksheet) even though I've had free time and everyone else is working their asses off. Plus, I've been waking up so late. I used to wake up at four in the morning, go for a run, head to school and hit the gym at three. Every day. It was good. It was routine. It was good.

God, I'm a wreck.