‘I spotted a group of teenage boys, pointing. Laughing’ Slumped on the sofa, I tucked into a baguette stuffed with chicken. Mmmm, comfort food, I thought, polishing off the lot.
Next, I ate crisps, sweets.
After, I didn’t feel comforted, though. I felt miserable.
It was March 2015, and my husband Simon, 45, had taken our boys Arran, then 10, and Logan, 4, out for the day.
He was always taking them to the park or swimming.
But I’d stay behind, stuffing my face.
A size-20, I was too embarrassed to be seen in public, rarely left the house.
My health was poor, too - I suffered IBS, constant pain.
Doctors worried I had fibromyalgia, as I was always so run down and unwell.
I’m failing my kids, I thought.…
