For as long as I can remember I’ve been on a diet, or at least in need of one.  When I was seven my mum took me to the Dr because I had a cold or some other unrelated illness and the Dr (who himself was, let’s be honest here, a fat fucker) told her I was overweight and sent me to a dietician.  There started my unhealthy relationship with food.  It really started when my parents split up and I would spend the weekend with my father who plied me with sweets and crisps and sat me in the corner of his local pub.Read More →