I left my bed

I was at my highest weight to my knowledge at 10.4lbs, which is a bit of junk in trunk carrying for a 5footer. I'd settled into a routine of drinking lots of red wine after about 2 years of not and eating more Camembert than you can shake a stick at. My partner then moved to London to go to university and that's when I started to eat less. It wasn't a concious thing. All I had knew was that the man I loved had moved over 100 miles away and we were destined to be doomed. Neither of us could work out how to make it work. I decided we shouldn't try and then changed my mind. James, my partner, then decided it was best that we didn't try and changed his mind. As you can imagine, all of this took a toll on my appetite, not to mention the now 40 cigarettes I was smoking a day to help with heartache and hopeless depression about not having a job, or a goal, life or now the man I love. Awesome. I moved to London in an effort to completely revamp my life. I was aware it...

A lot of people are going to have "lose weight", "get in shape", or "drop a dress size" as one of their new years resolutions. They will purchase a gym membership, or maybe of received one from a well intentioned relative at Christmas, opening it whilst they stuff celebrations into their mouth ( I totes stuffed celebrations into my mouth at every available opportunity), and then go in all guns blazing, only to throw in the towel a week later. Or they may do the opposite, and embark on a "detox" of only water, lemons, syrup, 0 calorie clouds, unicorns, whatever. I'm here to give you my opinion on that - don't do it. At the young age of 19 *cries*, I was a very slender size 6 after going from a 12. It was pretty much by accident. I developed a love of soup and didn't have an emotional attachment with food in any way, so I got into a routine and 4 months down the line was about 2 stone lighter. It wasn't as simple as that and there...