OK so after my exam success in year 9, I began to feel a lot better. Although I had given up on weight loss, I had kinda accepted my body the way it was.
I read this book called Body confidence by Astrid Longhurst, here's the link:
http://www.play.com/Books/Books/4-/217514/Body-Confidence/Product.html?ptsl=1&ob=Price&fb=0&&_$ja=tsid:11518|cc:|prd:217514|cat:Books+%3E+Health.
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So for once in my life I was actually HAPPY with my body the way it was. I felt great. I loved my curves. I had bags of confidence. I was talking to people I wouldn't normally. I was living.
But this feeling didn't seem to last long. I would look at my body and start feeling fat again. I would say to myself, yeah you're body is great but if you could just lose a little here.. just tighten that bit there... etc. And it all started again! And then I was in two minds. I felt so conflicted. On the one hand, I loved my body and was really confident in it. On the other hand, I wanted to lose weight. And no matter how hard I tried, could not make the two sides corroborate with each other; they wouldn't work together. So I realised that I'd had to adopt either one of those ideaologies. And for some reason, I went for the "you should lose a little bit of weight" idea.
I have no idea why I chose it. Probably because I was piling on the pounds- and fast. And I felt like I had to tell myself once more it was time to lose weight. Yet I had resigned myself to the fact that weight loss was some far, impossible, distant, unreachable, unachievable DREAM or fantsasy I had. So I just lived life, and let myself put on gradually more and more weight. Of course I wasn't HAPPY about it, yet I felt there was nothing I could do to change my situation. So I'd have to acceptit. And I did.
The part of me I hated the most was my stomach. It just ballooned so much and was so out of proportion to the rest of my body, it made me look pregnant. I guess the reason why was during year 8/ year 9 I had a really strict regime for sit-ups. I managed to get an almost flat belly by enduring a regime of around 300 sit-ups a day, split into 100 in the morning, at lunch and evening. I did it for a couple of months and it did work. But of course, I gave up.
At the end of year 11, I sat my GCSE exams. I got really stressed out about them. I generally get very stressed out about exams, especially important ones. They were really important because I'd got rejected from the sixth form my Dad wanted me to go to and I felt like such a failure. I had places at other colleges but he wanted me to go to that one. And I didn't really care where I ended up. But the fact is I had no idea where I was going to go. My future was so uncertain, and I hate uncertainty. I needed to have some sort of direction in my life.
Anyways, I got so stressed that I became really ill with a nasty mucus cough. I went to the doctor, who gave me some amoxicillin (see below)- an antibiotic- cos she thought I had a chest infection. Btw I know amoxicillin is usually given to like babies, but at the time I could not and would not swallow tablets! So I had to take amoxicillin in liquid form.
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But it didn't help at all so I went back to the doctors. She listened to my chest. I told her I had been wheezing a lot. When I breathed, I was making dolphin/whale noises!!! It was quite peculiar. It was then that I was diagnosed with Asthma.
It was strange because obviously I knew a lot about asthma but I never thought I had it. I was given blue and brown inhalers and told when to take them and given a thick information leaflet as well as print-outs from the BMJ website. I took some time off school when the cough was realllyy bad so when I went back, I told my friends that I'd got Asthma. It was a disease that everyone knew about but what they didn't tell me- and what I now know is that Asthma is an autoimmune illness.
So I came out of high school with great GCSE results and managed to get a place into the sixth form my Dad wanted me to go too- yippeee!!
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