My first run of the play.

Today was our first night of the play. It was hideous; not for everyone else, merely for me. It is horrible being talentless within a myriad of talent, and knowledge of this makes it worse.

My stage daughter was, inevitably, brilliant. She keeps saying how we could actually be related; I think she means that we could be mother and daughter, I the matronly elder and she the sprightly young thing. She is right; we are both pale. My features are a coarsened, thickened daguerrotype to her refined wrists and doll-like face. Of course, I am her elder. I detest this role, I know that anyone could play it better than I do. I just have to be more natural with it, and less nervous. I've got four more runs to make it right.

The worst thing? That everyone was brilliant, and this meant our director couldn't be honest with me about my shambling; he said he enjoyed watching me, but this is a face-saver as he couldn't say, "everyone was brilliant except you". I think she came tonight- I saw her in the audience, I think- and she hasn't spoken to me about it. If she'd loved it she would have texted. At the moment, I wish I was anyone apart from my fat old self. All the other girls onstage are beautiful, and petite. Even if I was to dye my hair blonde and wear lovely makeup, there is no way that I could be small or slim. I hate her seeing me act badly, and I hate this because I use her as a barometer. I hate the repercussion that this has on me, though it shouldn't.

Let's say I was the girl that plays my daughter. What then?

I would be academic and beautiful, and slim, and an amazing actress. I would be well liked and respected.

What have I got going for me that she hasn't? I'm down to earth, and sensible. Those are not characteristics I prize in myself. She doesn't need to be down to earth; her possibilities are spinning away off into the clouds, and she can go with them, whereas mine are securely tethered to boring topsoil. I can draw. She probably can as well. I'm flexible. So? I am proud and independent. She isn't exactly a doormat. I can't ever win.

I feel as if I want to cry with the hopelessness of competing against this. Then I remember that there are starving children with AIDS in Africa, so I should suck it up. I am so feeble.

I tried to look like Grace Kelly, but all her looks were too sad.

Eating today:

pasta and pesto (400)
a happy hippo (100)
two tangerines (40)
sultanas and yoghurt (300)
Coleslaw (100)
sausage, mushroom, tomato onion stir fry (300)
happy hippo (100)

I am pretty sure I ate something else as well, at lunch with sultanas and yoghurt... I also ate 3 smarties, a polo, and a glass of tia maria and coke. I didn't order diet because it felt stupid.

So I'm saying about 1300. Food alone. I wish I could remember what I'd had at sultana and yoghurt time... not a biscuit. Coleslaw? No. WHAT WAS IT?

I've walked a bit today.

It's so strange... I woke up this morning in a horrendous mood because I'd spent the night feeling shit that my friends were all so much cleverer than me... I've had the same background, but I'm still not achieving as I should. I woke up feeling fatter than ever, uglier, stupider... I can't think of anything you could be, that I would want to be... humorous. I felt like I had no spark. That's so trite, but it was true.

Then, about half four, I went for a walk and the cloud lifted a bit. Then I had my first rehersal and I stopped worrying about what I looked like in my trousers, or that I was the fattest and largest there, and started to properly enjoy these stupid games we were playing. I didn't even feel like I was particularly good at them, but it helped so much to be out and walking about, just in life instead of a bit out of it.

Acting, pretending to be someone else, definitely lifts the cloud.

Knowing someone thought I was good enough to be there was a lift.

I came back in a really good mood, and chirped around with my housemates for a bit. I also discovered a band called Mika, which is good. The music makes me wave my arms and mouth along to the words.

Should we pity those who haven't got as much as us? I would say no, because I hate being pitied. That is one of the reasons I want to lose weight, I hate being discreetly felt sorry for. I don't think we should... I think people from all walks of life can be happy, and it's being happy that counts, even if you're ignorant. I think if you're not happy, you know.

Also, none of my friends want to end up like their mothers... apparently, they're all eating disordered, high achievers. Which is ironic, because they don't have eating disorders but are high achievers. My Mother... I admire her an awful lot. I think she's really cool, cooler than me. She's my code of behaviour, she gives the best advice, she's like a friend and a mother... I don't want to be her. But I don't want to be anyone, really. I know I would like to be powerful and eminent within my chosen industry, though I know that doesn't always bring happiness, doing something worthwhile (so not fashion) and ethical, possibly travelling, or at least involving travel. My Mother would have wanted all of these and could have had them, but she never got the chance. It was never suggested.