A Dessert To Die For

5th May 2014

I can’t tell you how pleased I am that it’s Monday. I have spent the entire weekend hiding inside myself turning down so many delicious opportunities. I have a problem and I know this. The trouble is knowing it and actually doing something about it are two entirely separate things. I sometimes think back and try to picture where it started and when it suddenly got out of hand but if I’m being honest there’s no specific time frame that stands out, I just know it’s been going on for far too long now and no one has a clue. At least, I believe no one else’s knows, unless they are just being polite and avoiding confrontation with me.  

This weekend has been torture, however I played my part well and kept up my appearance, not allowing my true colours to show. This wasn’t like my usual weekends hidden away whilst Luke works all day, pretending I’m busy, when the reality is quite different. 

People were nice and welcoming to me this weekend though. The party was lively and there were a few moments I found myself enjoying it, especially at the sweet cart. They had Giant Strawbs and strawberry pencils and even those flying saucer sweets that dissolve in seconds on your tongue to nothing, leaving behind a sugary lump of sherbet. I managed to sneak back for a second bag whilst everyone crowded the dancefloor as the DJ muffled into his mic about playing Mr Brightside. Cara managed to drag me onto the dancefloor for half a song and it was so awkward. I just sort of bobbed there on the spot, feeling so out of place. I don’t dance. I don’t really do anything in front of an audience. Anything that involves an audience bigger than Luke I don’t take part in it. Even with Luke, we still turn the lights out to have sex and I never let him see me fully exposed in bright lights, even after four years. The thought of it makes my whole body jiggle in shame. 

Work wasn’t so bad today, although I did have to cut my lunch short so Charlotte could rush home due to some family emergency. I was back on the till before I barely swallowed the last of my glorious gold bar. Although, admittedly I did have three, I don’t know how, it just sort of happens rather quick. 

I can hear Luke coming through the door. 

Talk soon x 

7th July 2014 

Another Monday is here again. They come round so quickly. Luke was off all weekend and we spent Saturday having a duvet day even though it was 25 degrees outside. I don’t like the hot weather. It’s too hot and sticky and I end up dripping like an egg sandwich after about three seconds. I’m glad we don’t get the hot weather here very much. The thought of getting my pale thunder thighs out terrifies me. I much prefer to dress for the winter all year round at least then I can hide my problems behind my clothes and they do say black makes you look thinner. 

We decided to have a Marvel marathon and I was in charge of the snacks (of course!). I love days like this, as I get to be my whole self in front of him, no holding back, as we scoff our faces together with mountains of sugary treats. 

I still haven’t told him I’ve been getting headaches that are slowly getting worse. Last week my vision blurred so much that I had to put my head in my arms on the shop counter behind the till until it passed. It was as though I had suddenly taken my glasses off, my surroundings so blurry and faded. Thankfully there weren’t any customers at the time so I had the chance to regain my vision. I know this, along with the headaches, is not good sign but I’m scared. I don’t want to go to the doctors, that means facing my problems and acknowledging it. I’m not ready for that. Please body, give me a few more months. I’m not ready for Luke to know. I’m so ashamed. 

I’ll update you soon x 

10th October 2014

I feel so exhausted and drained, I’ve fallen asleep on the sofa for the last two nights in a row before heading to bed. It’s been such an awful day. I was walking back to my car this afternoon, finishing work earlier than usual as my headache was making my eyesight go funny. The headaches are almost daily now, it’s really ramped up over the last couple of months, to point it’s starting to affect my day to day life. There’s only so many painkillers I can take to mask the pain. I know it’s my body screaming at me to sort myself out but it’s like my brain won’t shift into gear. Im locked in this cycle. I fear it’s already too late to do anything about it now anyway. As I got to my car earlier, there was a group of young boys hanging around in the car park, playing music from one of their phones. I merely glanced in their direction and regretted it instantly, as one of them noticed and started throwing horrible abuse at me about my appearance. I quickly squeezed into my car and drove home. Although I probably shouldn’t have drove with the headache and fuzzy vision. I opened my glove box and practically swallowed a chocolate bar whole, from my secret stash. It made me feel better, eased the pain for the journey home until I could reach my goody cupboard. Luke also made a comment earlier after dinner, asking if my boobs had grown. I know it’s his polite way of asking if I’ve put on weight and I can’t help but panic that he’s noticing what’s happening. I hope to god he didn’t find all the wrappers in the bin after the day I’ve had. I tried to hide them underneath the empty packet of cheese. Maybe I failed. I can’t bring myself to tell him. What’s the point if he knows anyway, maybe I should wait for him to mention it first. 

24th October 2014 

I called in sick today at work. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t go in. Luke has been staying away with work this week so it was the perfect opportunity to finally book a doctor’s appointment. I almost cancelled it last minute, not wanting to go. It felt like a spotlight of shame towered over me in that waiting room, screaming “you’ve done this to yourself”. I felt humiliated and so ashamed of myself. The Doctor told me my condition is not uncommon. I still couldn’t face looking him in the eye though until he had to shine a torch in them to check my eyeballs. He was beautiful. He had lovely stubble and a strong jaw line. His eyes were a dreamy golden brown but they sparkled with life and energy. He looked so well and healthy, the type who ate chicken salads after a workout and protein porridge for breakfast. His smile was genuine, with gleaming teeth that hadn’t been stained by litres of Coca Cola. He was the exact type who wouldn’t look twice at someone like me except to label me with a condition. 

And he did. He confirmed exactly what I feared. The reason behind my constant intense headaches, blurred vision and sudden fatigue. I had to book in for some tests and more appointments which can’t wait, apparently. I drove straight home after and cried and cried and I don’t think I have actually moved since, not even to cure my cravings, which is a first. I don’t know what to do, where to go from here. How do I face telling Luke. How do I tell him that his girlfriend is destroying herself on purpose to hide her feelings? That I’m too much of a coward, too insecure to face my problem and ask for help. 

Do I have to tell him or can I really do this on my own? 

13th March 2016

Dear Luce, 

I found your diary six months ago tucked at the bottom of your drawer and thought it would only be right, to write to you after reading your entries. 

I can’t believe you felt you had to deal with this all on your own. Everything you had been going through, you could have talked to me about it. I feel stupid I wasn’t aware enough to realise things were different. When I look back now there were things you did, the way you acted, that didn’t seem like you. I feel foolish that a part of me believed you may have been pregnant with the weight gain and constant exhaustion. I should have known you were hiding something more crucial from me at the time. I could have helped you. I would have been there by your side. We could have got through this together. If you’d have opened up to me, I wouldn’t be here now, sorting through your things. God, I miss you so much. 

It’s been over a year since that Christmas Day. A year of so many questions. I feel mortified that you felt you couldn’t confide in me. I guess there was a lot of pain in you that I couldn’t see. I’m sorry you felt shame in yourself. I’m sorry you couldn’t see yourself how others saw you, how I saw you. You were so kind to everyone, even those who didn’t deserve it. You were always there for me with your unending patience and now I feel ashamed that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most. 

I’m sorry you had to find comfort in food when I wasn’t looking or working away and that food became your only friend, your escape. I should have been more observant and confrontational. I could see your body changing and I never asked you why. I shouldn’t have patiently waited, hoping you were going to tell me you were pregnant. I know how upset you used to get over your weight so I didn’t want to bring it up in case this wasn’t it. I never would have thought it would lead to this. If I’d have known, I could have reminded you to take your insulin, I could have stopped the temptation getting the better of you. I could have told my mum to cut back on the array of Christmas puddings. If only I knew. I sometimes stare at your death certificate in disbelief, wondering if it’s all a sick joke. How could you have died of something I didn’t even know you had? 

All of it has really changed my perspective though Luce and it’s made me realise how important health is. I joined a gym a few months back and every time I workout, I’m doing it for you. I’m going to be that man who eats chicken salads and protein porridge. I’m going to work for that body you never got chance to live in, for you. I hope you can forgive me Luce and wherever you are, I hope you’re enjoying your favourite gold bar without the pain or the consequences. 

I love you and I miss you everyday. 

Luke x