She aims to put on a stone and a half in a year.

Each week Lizzie posts part of her diary describing how she is finding the challenge.

To sponsor Lizzie visit www.justgiving.com/lizziegrimaldi.

She aims to put on a stone and a half in a year.

Each week Lizzie posts part of her diary describing how she is finding the challenge.

To sponsor Lizzie visit www.justgiving.com/lizziegrimaldi.

Diary entry: 28th January

I'm rather worried by the fact that I've spent most of this morning on the loo. I do hope it wasn't the chicken sandwich. Can't have been, no-one else has had any ill-effects and surely it would have been quicker than that. Nor can I believe it is the Clinutren, and dinner last night was totally risk-free (no shellfish...). I'm very aware that this could affect tomorrow's weighing and that we are fast approaching the end of month deadline. Perhaps we should hold off judgement day until next Tuesday instead. Good idea - gives me a few extra days. I am also very aware that people will immediately think laxatives so perhaps I shouldn't mention this. And it might not have affected it anyway so I'll defer judgement until I see what the scales say tomorrow.

Over the weekend, Barry asked if I had Googled "Lizzie Grimaldi". Well, no, I hadn't, but when I did I was surprised to say the least. One thing I came across was a "forum" on an eating disorders support site. Basically a discussion between "carers" of people with eating disorders. It was very interesting and I found myself agreeing with practically everything they said. One ("Sheepie") picked up on the fact that I was exhibiting typically eating-disordered thoughts (no shit Sherlock) such as picking up on the typo in the Telegraph article saying I was a stone heavier than I am. I wish I could shake off all these anorexic traits, but unfortunately I have mislaid my magic wand. They still rear their ugly heads with frightening regularity and no doubt will continue to do so until I have gained a substantial amount of weight. The best thing I can hope to do at the moment is smother them but all too often they're too strong for me to suppress. What I have to remember is that these people are going through a similar but very different type of hell. They have to believe that their approach to their daughters (or wives, girlfriends, sons, whatever) illness is right and they are perfectly entitled to their opinions, however unfounded and uninformed they may be. After all, they don't know me or my situation and from the outside it does look unconventional and "a starting point for disaster". But I have made such progress and I cannot let anyone or anything detract from that. If this is the right thing for me, then great. I'm not saying its for everyone. Until we have unravelled the secrets encoded by out DNA, there is no way anyone can prescribe a cure-all for any disease - let alone one so multifactorial as this.

Diary entry: 26th January

I need to write something about what's been happening but I don't really know what. Suffice to say it's better than it was. Things sort of came to a head, burst and we're gradually clearing up the pus. I can't pretend it didn't happen, but in time no doubt I'll forget a bit and things won't seem so raw. I hope we won't just slip back into bad habits, but I'm going to work at preventing that happening. I really hope Barry is not going to assume we can carry on as "normal". He needs to change too - in the way that he deals with this problem. Even if I do have to go into hospital (God forbid) until such time I need his total support in the approach that I'm taking. And I have to tell him what form that support needs to take - in one word of preferably less than one syllable. He cannot know instinctively when to "interfere" and when to butt out, but he'll learn. And it won't be forever. It will get easier.

Lunch today was a first and although it felt slightly contrived, we did it and next time will be easier. It is so much more manageable than it was this time last week - it's amazing how you body can get used to things (I've got to keep telling myself this. I'm really struggling with the Clinutren though. I hate to admit it, but I'll use every excuse not to take it. Not sure why, apart from the fact it tastes gross, makes me feel sick and fills me up too much...


Diary entry: 25th January

The rantings of Lizzie...

I must admit I am getting p*****off with the lunch thing. What started off as "Right Lizzie - here's your lunch" has turned into me phoning Hannah to remind her we are out of bread followed by my trailing into Tescos to buy some (oh and while you are there, could you get...) I thought the whole point was to help me avoid having to choose the bloody stuff, prepare it and then eat the f****** cheese sandwich. I refuse to eat yet another stale doorstep so what is the alternative? Yeah maybe I haven't got anything else to do but I sure could find plenty rather that have to shop again. Why the hell couldn't she have thought of getting it. I know it's my problem and I've got to deal with it, but this ain't fair. What's the difference? And yes, I am cross, very cross, however unreasonable, it's how I feel.

Diary entry: 25th January

I can't just roll over. Curl up in a ball and die. I have to get through it and prove that against all odds it can be done. I cannot continue with this demi-life, this partial existence. There is so much more. There must be so much more. The comment from Ruth on the blog was wonderful - truly inspirational. I have to believe her. Actually, we've been really lucky with the response we have had (apart from a couple of anonymous ones questioning our responsibility. But we are not advocating this approach for everyone and yes, perhaps 7 stone 4 is sill underweight but its an achievable goal for me and is a darn sight healthier than 5 stone 11). I need to focus on the positive and ignore their negativistic attitudes and opinions. I have to surround myself with people who believe in this otherwise I'll go under. I really felt like giving up last night and admit, I didn't have the Clinutren but I think I'm back on track today. Not drowning, wavering.

I'm not sure why that p***** me off to such an extent. Towards the end of my conversation with Mim, she questioned why I had to have cheese sandwiches (good question) and wanted to make alternative suggestions. Yeah well, if she wants to come over and make me something else, fine. But for now I'd rather not have to think and just get on and do it. It doesn't have to be 3 Michelin starred perfection. It's just lunch.
"Square meals, not adventurous ones, are what you should seek."
Bryan Miller (NY Times Restaurant Critic)

I felt rotten afterwards and had to phone her back to apologise for being snappish.

I can't expect everyone to say the right thing - it's not deliberately done to upset me, it's just unthinking. I'm sure I say some really hurtful things completely unintentionally. And I am still supersensitive. My buffer zone is very small and I am too quick to overreact. I mustn't take thins so personally - it's not all about me. And I mustn't fixate on tiny minutiae. My concentration on little things blows them out of all proportion. Forget it. Gloss over it and it will disappear.

Diary entry: 24th January

I guess its to much to ask that I might have had a run of more than 2 good days. I've felt like absolute s*** yesterday and today. Hang on a minute. That's the good thing about writing a diary - you can look back on things and see how you felt. And yes, a month ago almost to the day I felt the same. Who said I didn't have hormones? Feel better now I've identified the root of all this evil. Why am I bothering to do this? I'm not getting anywhere. I can't keep hoping against hope that things will change. I've got to change them myself or stand still. I can't control other people's behaviour. Get over it.

Diary entry: 23rd January

Bleugh. Clinutren. Gross