Thin enough will never be thin enough.

The Mother has started voicing her concerns in earnest now. I don't know when she suddenly looked at me and saw "too thin" instead of just "skinny," but now she claims that she's worried.

It does not help when other people point out my weight in front of her. Like yesterday, when her cleaning lady (Betty, who is lovely and is teaching me to speak Portuguese so I can go stay in her house in Rio) arrived. Betty looks at me and says, "you're getting too skinny!" I don't really think she's one to talk, as she is an effing TWIG, but mum of course jumped on this comment. "YES, you are getting too skinny," she said in that Mother-tone, staring daggers at me from across the kitchen table.

I don't understand this. I mean I kind of do, but at the same time, no. When there's a heroin-chic model in a magazine, or stick-insect actress on TV, Mum is usually the first one to say that they look fantastic, and how she wishes to God she was that thin. I don't think I'm quite that twiggy-thin (I can't process my reflection properly, so I really have no idea what other people see), but WHY IS IT OK FOR THEM TO BE WASTED, AND NOT ME?!?! I know, I know - she's just worried about me because I'm her daughter and she loves me (insert gag here) and blah blah blah.

The idea of maintaining this weight makes me scared, but if Mum continues in this fashion, I might have to try and stay around 100 until autumn. At least when the weather turns colder ,I can cover up the twigginess with extra layers of clothes. But I don't want to stop now!! :**( I've come so far. I CAN'T STOP. I want to be down to 90 by September.

So far today I ate the exact same thing I eat every bloody morning, so I'm not repeating myself.

..... (80).