Jibber jabber.

We went to Dunedin recently. We made some damn good memories. Someone called someone else repugnant and we managed to come to the conclusion that it made us thing of re-pugging things, as in making them the dog. "Oh, it's dead, we'll just re-pug that." Luca kept saying "Where dem fiddies?" and the correct response to that is "On my titties, bitch." We were going through my handbag and I pulled out a pocket knife, tampon, hospital band (that thing they put on your wrist when they admit you in)a lighter and a panty liner. Megan said "So we'll stab someone, shove a tampon in the wound, put them in hospital and set them on fire?" to which I replied 'Yes, but we must remember to line their panties" There is more but my brains sleepy. Basically it was a bloody awesome trip. One day you'll all see me standing on a burning couch in my underwear with a bottle of vodka on the news and you'll be proud to know me.

My family thinks I'm anorexic.

I'm not exactly a big girl, but I'm not anorexic either.

I overhear my grandfather talking about me a lot. Apparently I need more meat on my bones because I'm grossly underweight. I have a healthy BMI and my doctor is happy with my current weight as I have had issues with being underweight in the past, but never an eating disorder.

They sat me down once to discuss my 'eating disorder' and how they're concerned about my mental health because clearly I hate my size and am trying to starve the weight off.

It's getting bad these days. They check my school bag in the morning to make sure I'm taking food to school and they check it when I get home to make sure I ate it.

Most people get greeted with 'How was your day?' when they come home, the first question I get asked is 'Have you eaten today?'

The other night I was hungry so I went to the kitchen to find something to eat. Nana was happy to see me in the kitchen. She kept asking me questions about what I wanted and such. I finally decided to cook myself some pasta with a creamy tomato sauce. I got congratulated on making food and a pat on the back accompanied with a 'Good work!' when I ate it.
Yeah, I get congratulated on eating.
They're always trying to feed me and make me eat the same food as them, and anyone who knows me knows I'm a really fussy eater.

We went to dinner the other night for their wedding anniversary and when we got home they told me they were happy to see me eating again. I've never stopped eating, I eat a lot more than they'll ever believe.

I wonder if they'll ever be convinced that I don't have an eating disorder, I'm just healthy sized and eat at school/friends houses/take-away places more than at home.