I don’t drink Penny Royal Tea…

…but I’m still a liar and a cheat.
I’m sorry I haven’t updated this blog for so long. I’m in the middle of a relapse and it’s been difficult to write anything worth reading. Anyway, I know Jo is one of the only people who reads it.

This has meant that, until recently, I’ve had to be a little “circumspect” about the weights I’ve been recording here. In other words, I’ve been lying and adding 3 kilos. Anorexia makes you mendacious.

However, a couple of weeks ago, she came home and insisted that I stand on the scales in front of her. Her work had let up, temporarily, and she’d been able to sit back and think about other aspects of her life, and realised that I’d gone odd again…So the cat was out of the bag (or the tin of beans out of the underpants, or whatever would be an appropriate metaphor for us lot.)

It was embarrassing. I had to stand, clad, appropriately, only in a pair of boxer shorts, exposed and vulnerable as I was revealed as a liar and a cheat by the undeniable, hard facts on the LCD display. I thought about looking surprised and confused, but, in the end, I opted for pointing out to Jo that she’d been preparing for a promotion at work, and was so busy that I hadn’t wanted to cause her further anxiety. I think this is true.

She has been remarkably good about this, so far. She was subdued and melancholy and said it was hard to watch somebody you loved trying to kill themselves, but she didn’t shout or blame me, confusingly, although I feel, with deep conviction, that she should, because I feel wholly and personally responsible for the shit this family goes through, the damage it has sustained and, therefore the bad behaviour and unhealthy thinking it manifests. I have twisted my own children. More on that story later in the programme.

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