That's my update for now.
I'm still fat.
I am motivated.
I have managed to put myself in an 860 quid (approx. 1670 USD) debt, put on a shitload of weight (hello, disgusting 107 pounds of failure), and just generally completely fuck up everything. The debt? Lost something which wasn't mine, have to pay it back. The weight-gain? Emotional eating, hello to you, gosh do I hate you. I. Fail. Life. I.Fail. Everything. I. Fail. Everything. I seriously want to go die, that would be heaven except minus the heaven because I guess I'd go to hell.
I were out last night. To Sigurdsgatan, a livehouse. I were dressed up from head to toe, in an attempt to hide the fact that beneath the attire I were hideously fat. And disgusting. And generally fucked up. Anyway. There was a man there that worked at the place, watching over the door and generally keeping a check on things, and he came forth to me with a camera and asked if he could take a few pictures. Apparently he was in contact with modelling agency in Canada, and his job was to take photographs, and he said he thought I looked interesting. My friend said I should agree to taking a few quick photos, so I... did. Wah. Scary.