Cupidity.

I am writing this to stop myself eating. I am in the middle of researching an essay, and I'm tense and bored. I don't need food but it provides a break. It's seven pm and I've eaten nine hundred calories so far today; no sugar. So I don't need anything else for an hour and a half at least.

I was asked if something on this blog could appear in a book. It's dealing with my father. The thing is, I don't know if my skewed point of view going into a book is a necessarily good thing; I've never been committed, or sent to psychologists, but I think I do write from a biased perspective, as does everyone, which gets incredibly self indulgent. I'm not sure that I want that view of my father paraded around, albeit anonymously. I feel that I should have the guts to tell him what I've written before I allow it to be published overseas. Here I am overanalysing everything, all over again.

Anyway, I thought I would write some nice things about my Dad, as usually I only ever whine about him and everything else.

1. He is always proud of us, and says that when I was born was the happiest day of his life. He drew a graph to illustrate this; it's middling, then when I'm born it shoots up.

2. He loves us so much that he wants to give us all the opportunity he can. He'd never leave us, like some Dads do; if he and Mum split up, they'd both be there, no questions asked.

3. There's a video of us all on holiday; we'd rented a caravan. I'm about seven, my brother is two, and my Dad is making us laugh so much by doing silly voices for all of my brother's trains. Remembering it makes me really happy. I can remember my stomach aching, from where I laughed so much. I am sure that there must be so many moments like this, it's just that the bad ones stick in my head easier. And the bad ones aren't that bad- it's usually him pushing me too far academically, I wish I'd remember the better ones like these.

4. He once watched a dance show I was in and tried hard to say positive things about it, though neither of my parents can abide dancing (they think it leads to eating disorders and deformed feet).

5. He offers me money but wants me to be independent as well, and never likes to meddle, though he does want to be involved. He learns his lesson; he used to push me a lot at school, but eventually (when I was fifteen, after tears and many arguments about why he wouldn 't trust me to push myself) he left off. And apologised when my marks went up, for annoying me.

6. He can admit when he's wrong. We were having an argument, or he and Mum were- I can't remember. And I said, "God, you love playing the martyr don't you?" He said he realised then that maybe he did, and that he's been on his guard about it ever since.

I am guilty of cupidity. I want everything; a perfect figure, a perfect grade, a perfect relationship- without putting in a lot of graft. It feels like I graft away, but I know really that it's not enough. I should do more exercise, and more work. I can admit when I'm wrong too.

Here is a list of things I like about myself:

My untidy eyebrows
My hair
My long fingernails
I am very independent, and proud.

I'll think of more.