The path of darkness stops, and comes to a dead end. Should I turn back, or just end it now with a step off this beautiful cliff?...

Do you ever get those times where you wonder if your life is even worth living? Yeah, well I get those times everyday. And it's all because of goddamn Anna.

I've gotten to the point where I am so fed up, that I wonder if life is even worth it anymore. I can't tell her to "Fuck off" or "Go away", because it doesn't work. She doesn't fuck off, or go away. She gets angry, and sometimes it scares me, but then other times I just kind of try and make her think I'm going to do things her way, and she calms down.

People think I'm better - they think I'm healthy, and that I look good. But that's only what they see. I'm not in any way shape or form better, yet. I still constantly worry about gaining weight, and calories, and burning them all off. And I miss it sometimes...the feel of my prominent hip bones, and rib cage, and spine. How thin my arms and legs were. And I can't even believe the change in my body, with only one pound in weight gain. And it's muscle, not fat. But I look so different. And most times...I like it, but only my abs. I'm so proud of them. But the rest of my body, I hate. I think my face is fat and my arms are fat, and my legs...these thoughts go through my mind CONSTANTLY. All day. Everyday. Calories, burning calories, how fat I look, wishing I could go back to starving. It's not over, and I can't believe I was so stupid to think it might automatically disappear as soon as I started eating again.

Every night before bed I start planning my meals, and counting calories already. And there have even been a few nights where I've tried to tell myself that starving is okay, and I can go back to it, because I can pull it off, and I've proven to myself that I am not dependent on food. I've said these things out loud over and over again before bed. Not many times, just a few. Now, of course it didn't work, but I had to try it. Because I missed it. I miss it. Still.

And what scares me, is the fact that I don't even know if an E.D. doctor/therapist can help me. I'm obviously going to try the idea, but I just don't know. At this moment, I just don't know about life though. I try to ignore it all, and say I'm so happy. But deep down, when I think about it...I'm still not happy. Because I don't want to live my life this way. And currently, I don't want to live life in general.

The only sense of comfort I feel is when I lie down, and touch my ribs and hip bones. Because they feel like they did when I was starving. I don't want it to be like that. I don't want that to be my comfort. I'm ready to be better now.

Trapped in hell with a beautiful illusion...

All I can say at this very moment, is...

Fighting Anna is not easy at all.

Consuming me like an unstoppable black hole, you,...have become my life

I find myself saying this a lot, but I really am sorry for the lack of updates. It's just, when I have stuff to write about, it's usually never good, and I have so much to say...it's just annoying. But I promise, I'll try and update you guys more often. Really.

Anyway, today I thought I'd write about anorexia. My mum is convinced I don't have it. Even though she had thought I did before, she says she doesn't now. Well, I agreed. But have now found my mind changing to disagreement. Why? Because I decided to really find out, and research it this morning. I looked at symptoms, signs, all of that. And guess what? I've got every bit of them. There was even something on the list that was so shocking, but explained so fucking much. I mean, god.

Okay, first, the shocking thing I found on the list that explains so much. I circled it on the list below:


I had no way of understanding my wish to cook for people all the time - find nice recipes and make them. Feed people. Look through cooking magazines/visit cooking sites. This explains so much, and I think it's so weird how it's tied to anorexia. How, it seems like, everything I do now, is tied to anorexia. I have every symptom/sign on that list. Which has now forced me to believe I am anorexic. I didn't think so before reading these, but now...I mean, if I wasn't anorexic, I wouldn't have all the symptoms.

I am eating three meals, but they are small. I can control my breakfast and lunch, so I try to eat as little as possible because I have no idea how much food I'll have to eat at night. I stay hungry - which to me, is fantastic. There have only been two nights that I ate so much I wasn't hungry anymore. And I was miserable. I cried, my stomach hurt...it was a feeling I never want again.

I am also still over-exercising. I look in the mirror so many times a day, that I can't even count anymore, and you know what I always see? Fat. Just fat. All the time. I'm never thin enough, I always see fat, and ugly. You can see my ribs, chest bones, collar bones, hip bones - you can feel all them, and you can feel my bum bone if I sit on your lap. I get told I look skeletal, and anorexic, and terrible, and too thin...yet all I see is fat. And how I'd look so much better if I ate a little less. But not being in control of dinner completely hinges that. So I simply do as much as I can before dinner time. Then I exercise dinner off afterwards. It's the only way I'll feel satisfied enough. Last night I went to bed hungry, and happy. I was ecstatic. I lay in bed at night and stroke my hip bones, feel my chest bones...I'm so warped. I know. But I just...I don't know.

All day today I've been having flash backs from when I was like 11, and how terrified I was of becoming anorexic then...and how that, one time, I looked in the mirror, and saw a morbidly obese me staring back.And then I cried. And also how I was so terrified, that I couldn't eat for a few days. I had practically stopped eating because I was so worried I'd become anorexic, that I felt sick, and couldn't eat! God. I have literally struggled with my weight and appearance ever since I was like, 9 years old. It just didn't get to this point until 14...which, thank god it didn't start any sooner.

Then I think about how disappointed my dad would be in me right now...every time I exercise, every time I feel that burn in my chest, a sign I can't take what I am doing, yet I still keep on going...I know he'd have had a fit seeing me looking like this if he was still here. He thought I was too thin before he died, and I was eating normally then. So imagine what he'd say now...he'd get pissed off, and probably blame my mum - which this is certainly not her fault.

I don't know, it's all just so hard. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm very happy at the moment, really, I am. It's just...tiring sometimes, ya know? It consumes my thoughts, my body, my day...anorexia has taken over me, and I love it. I allow it. I welcome it. It makes me happy to go to bed hungry, and to eat, then walk away knowing I'm still hungry. It also makes me happy to exercise so hard that I end up shaking afterwards, then knowing I'm just going to do more later. It fills me with joy to feel that burn in my legs when I walk up the stairs - that burn that makes me feel as if I will collapse right then and there. It lets me know that I am doing things right. Well, right in my distorted view of what's right. Others' would say it's sick, and wrong. I started worrying when I couldn't feel that burn anymore though. When I wasn't as in pain as I used to be when working out hard.

Ugh, I don't know. I'm so happy, but there is no doubt about it. No denying it. No covering it up anymore, because people can see me. I am anorexic, and it is my life. It has consumed me, and I'm happy about that. That sounds so wrong, but god it feels so right.