- Hanging out with my gorgeous boyfriend, who I love (even though I swore I’d never feel that way about anybody), having brunch in an awesome vegetarian cafe and then spending the afternoon messing around in the Museum of Childhood (playing jenga, checkers, and dressing up as big cats).

- Calling one of my nearest and dearest family members, my cousin, to have a long and honest talk

- Eating a fuckload of carbs

- Listening to the Supremes and Ella Fitzgerald

- Watching one of my favourite films, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.

Well, I’m back to being unemployed again. After my sleazy internship supervisor tried to have sex with me after coaxing me into getting blackout drunk. Fuck that place.

My first therapy meeting is booked for next Thursday. So I have 6 days to worry about it (and practice trying not to cry when I talk about my mental state). I did one of their online assessment things, and apparently I have ‘moderately severe depression’. Damn.

How can I miss somebody I just saw on Sunday this much? It’s pathetic. I’m not comfortable being the slightest bit attached to anyone, because, as I keep trying to convince myself, I don’t need (or want) other people.

Body policing. It is not okay for you to refer to someone as ‘fat’ or ‘chubby’ in a pretty judgemental tone, even if you’re trying to describe them to me, because I know for a fact that you think thinner is better.

I need to start calling people out on this kind of behaviour - for some reason, I’m confident enough to do this regarding sexism/racism/homophobia, but fatphobia seems so ingrained in society at large that I know I’ll be regarded as over the top if I do say something. Ugh.

Also, I need to start telling people, when they talk about dieting, losing/putting on weight, or how they’ve just eaten ‘like a pig’, etc, that I find it extremely triggering (4 years of an ED will do that to you), rather than just nodding along and trying to change the subject as soon as possible.

This is just something that’s been on my mind a lot lately, based on some pretty revealing conversations I’ve had with people over the last few months.

Why are people so keen to protect and defend men they know are guilty of sexual harassment/assault? Why are they always willing to overlook this, claiming it’s “just something they did a long time ago”, or, if that doesn’t apply, it’s “not who they really are, they made a mistake”? I am so fucking sick of this shit. People who sexually harass and assault others, without ever admitting to their actions or apologising, need to be ostracised and cut off. No excuses need to be made, no guilt needs to be felt. That is the least of what they deserve. My extended family seems to consist, almost entirely, of harassers, or their apologists.