Eating more calories seemed to have helped. Dropped 3 more pounds. 31 pounds down!

Doctor is super proud and told me to keep doing what I’m doing. 🙂 /chuffed.

I’m eating more calories, but I’ve also dangerously upped my carb intake to between 30-50g on some days. Slowly weaning back on to them. I couldn’t be arsed with paleo/primal, mainly because I don’t crave fruit or tubers, but it’s good to know it’s an option if I get bored. So I’m just going to Keto and maybe go a bit crazier on my sauces, allow more tomato based foods when I fancy them, or indulge in low carb pita breads for pizzas. I’ve mainly just been eating loads of veggies without care.

I tried, for about 30 minutes, to cut back on cheese but no meal would come to me. So I made low-carb pita pizza. Opposite spectrums… I might try again after we do a grocery shop and have more options.

In the end, Keto or not, as long as I’m making the right choices, I’m happy. I can’t imagine eating a bowl of pasta, with a side of garlic bread, and cake to finish: I’d feel cheated out of nutrients – where’s my heaping serving of vegetables?! [Similar to my anger towards iceberg lettuce.] I won’t be counting carbs or calories during the 2 week weddingmoon. I will, through habit and preference, avoid refined carbs in my food choices, but I’m okay with going off Keto for a bit. Exercise/cardio levels will increase by 1000% anyway.


In more somber news, my little sister was just admitted to the ICU for diabetic ketoacidosis. She’s 21 and been Type 1 since she was 4? 6? Young. Since her teenage years, she’s been living in this “I’m the victim” mentality and trying to get her to take care of herself has been next to impossible. She also had Graves’ disease and just stubbornly hates taking a pill everyday so… she doesn’t. *I* take 14 pills a day, everyday and I don’t even have to, but that’s where her “Victim” identity comes in.

Anyway. I’ve been so angry at her for the past month because she was doing better – taking her medication, testing her blood sugar, eating healthy, cutting back on diet pop – and then she got addicted to Black Ops. My mom and I have had to sit by and suffer (I’ve lost a lot of sleep thanks to her screaming obscenities at 12 year old boys), and worry about her health. She stays up for nearly days on end, with almost no sleep. She sliced the tip of her fucking finger off at work and still didn’t see the stress she was putting on her body. I don’t even want to talk about what she’s been eating and drinking…

Well, today it finally sent out an SOS. Her pump stopped working and we don’t know for how long, only that she didn’t fix it when she fucking said she did. Mom took her to the ER tonight while I was at work and they are slowly trying to stabilise her labs.

I’m so angry. Angry because she’s so fucking stupid and careless. Angry because I’m scared. Angry because I try to no avail. Angry because in the end, it’s up to her. I can only hope that this is one Giant Fucking Wake Up Call to her. Get out of the “I’m Invincible” mindset and start TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF before it’s too late. And no, it’s not just because you’re diabetic, or have Graves, and ‘boo hoo it’s so unfair on me’ — EVERY ONE needs to CARE about what shit they put in their body! I finally started caring. finally stopped binge drinking and eating unhealthfully. I do it because I’M HUMAN, not immortal, and everyone, disease or not, needs to be mindful of what they do to their bodies. Take action before it’s too late…


Bed time. I’m sure my stress levels aren’t helping with my stalled weight loss…






Marriage Post


I just got some of the best news. I’m not sure it exactly qualifies as news: Let’s go with Hope. I just got the most heartwarming serving of Hope. I am overcome with possibility right now.

I was messaging a girl on Reddit who recently applied for her US>UK Marriage Visa. She kindly offered me advice (as it’s a bitch of a process). I asked her if she paid for a lawyer/advisor to look over it – I was told that this can speed the process up and ensure you have everything you need. Turns out, she didn’t. They just meticulously checked off the list of what they needed and paid for Priority Processing, which is only an extra $150 (on top of the $1,300. Christ).

So what’s my point? She said that between applying online, sending in her documents, doing her biometrics, and getting her Passport with approved Visa BACK – her total wait time was TWO. WEEKS.

TWO WEEKS. I don’t think I can actually fathom that.

For some reason, when I started my research back in February, I was always preparing for the worst: Not meeting financial requirements (he more than does), not being together long enough (no time limit, just proof it’s real and not sham), fees (okay that one is still a concern…).  For MONTHS, I’ve been mentally preparing myself for a 2-6 month wait for my Visa to get approved. I’ve had my fingers secretly crossed to be in Liverpool before Christmas, but I’ve been realistically considering January/February.

And just now, I find out, I could (technically) be in Liverpool by NOVEMBER? So now, it won’t come down to processing time. It’s going to come down to when I can afford my flight! My last ever one way ticket.

If I can be home by December… That will be magical. Matthew and I finally started dating in December. Our first physical meeting was November 10th. We’d known each other via Twitter for a while and had become good chums, always flirty, I always had a curious crush. But after my first Liverpool trip in November, we realised just how compatible we were. He had already made plans to come to Edinburgh on December 17, but I decided I didn’t want to wait a month to see him. December 1st I spent that weekend with him and it just exploded from there. By the time we found each other, we had been through enough in love to know when it’s worth it. On Boxing Day, while I was spending Christmas in London with one of my best friends, we both decided via texting that we didn’t care if I was leaving at the end of January; this was too good to let go. We had to try. I still can’t believe he took a chance on me. He spent New Years with me. I spent another weekend with him. And he came up for my Going Away Party to surprise me and we spent that last weekend together…

And here we are. Getting married in 50 days (SQUEE!). We’ll have been apart for about seven months when we see each other again. We’ve been apart longer than we’ve been together. And the 2 weeks we get in September for our wedding and Disneymoon will be the longest we’ve ever spent physically together. None of this scares me. Nothing alarms me. When it’s right, it’s easy.

I’m just so overcome with the idea that we may be able to start the rest of our lives sooner than I imagined.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to spend our first Christmas married actually together!