And there I was left standing - still not thinking I'm thin enough...

Why can't I see the truth in this picture? Why can't I see the reality of it all? Why do I have an eating disorder? Why does it seem like I'll never be happy?...

So many questions, yet none of them can be answered. So much confusion, it overwhelms me. So much hunger, it pains me. So much pain, it brings me to tears. Even now I can't write this with a face dry of tears.

There's so much I want to know, and I feel like there's so little time - like my life is running away from me, and I'm left desperate to catch up. I feel like every day I'm here, is just another day I didn't die of heart failure from the over-exercising, and lack of calories. I feel like every day I'm still here, is just luck, and that someday soon my time will come. I feel like there's a clock that lights up each time I light my candle in the night - the clock of my life-span flashes as a shadow reminding me every night, with each light of my candle. And I feel like every night that clock appears, is just another reminder of how little time I have left. And how I have to decide what I want to make of my life.

This is where there is confusion, and pain. So much pain. I could use this short time and starve myself again - it wouldn't be so hard, right? It would be simple, going back to old habits, and dropping more weight than I already have. Becoming tragically beautiful, again. A model. Powerful, accomplished, in control.

Yet at the same time, not in control. Because as I've learned before, I do not control my life, when I control my eating...Anna controls my life. And by God have I seen enough of her lately. She has been everywhere, and I'm just letting her hurt me. I'm letting her win again. I'm being her best friend. And I swore I'd never go back there, again. Yet here I am, again, Anna's temporary BFF(until she kills me off). How could I make the same mistake? How could I let her back in, and let her control me like this again? How could I ever like it, again? It makes absolutely no sense. This insane idea of mine that I've always despised. DESPISED. Is now my current dream. My current goal. Starvation, over-exercising, and low BMI...that's where my "dream" is taking me. Sure I could be a potential Vogue cover girl...but would my life be worth that? Would the man I love, be worth that? Would my friends and family, be worth that? Jamie says no - hell no. Anna says fuck it all. Anna says think of how accomplished and perfect you'll feel once you're there - once you've gotten there, nothing else will matter.

But the problem is, it will. I don't want to lose relationships, and basically, life again. But that stupid fantasy is in the way. Anna is in the way. She's already causing me damage in relationships and life.

The other side of all the Anna thoughts though, is me. The real me. Jamie. Not Anna. I don't want to starve again, and I don't want to lose more weight, and become tragically beautiful. I want to be a fit, sex kitten, and have women hate me wherever I go, because of it. I want to eat what I want, when I want, and not worry. I want to sit when I want, do what I want and not stress over calories burned, exercise, and everything else insane about this stupid eating disorder. I want to ultimately be healthy, and happy. And have my man, and my family, and my friends...I don't want to be alone. I don't want to just have bones, and Anna. They can't comfort me forever. It just doesn't work like that, as I've learned from previous experiences. I want to be thin, and healthy, and fit, and not worry at all about food and calories, and exercise. I just want to be normal again. Please?...


So she tells her story of woe, and hopes for a better ending than the one she sees in her future, now.


God, please help me. Please, please, please...

This black hole will never give up...and neither will I

Life is hard. So, so hard. Life is also wonderful sometimes, but at the moment, it is mostly...hard and sucky.

I thought my life would get just a tad bit easier after I had my first visit with my nutritionist. Well, it didn't. Guess what happened? It just got HARDER. What the fuck? I was so sure that once I knew how many calories I could consume daily, and how much to exercise, I'd relax a hell of a lot more. But no, I'm in fact, more stressed out. And I have the ugly, ever growing rash on my neck to show it.

I should have 2300-2500 calories daily, minimum. That's the minimum, now. You'd really think that would relax me...but it doesn't. If I think I've even come close to either of those numbers of calories in a day, I start to freak out.

With the exercising, I'm only allowed to exercise 30 minutes a day, three times a week now. Because of my heart, and body problems. Really, what I should be doing for most of my days, is resting. My body so desperately needs it, but I can't give it that. Why? Because I never stop worrying, and wondering, and being terrified.

I eat, then I sit down for a bit, just to give myself a quick rest. If it's longer than 30 minutes though, I freak out. And oh god, if it's longer than an hour I'm lazy. What will people think of me if they see me resting? They'll see me as lazy. Except according to everyone I know, they see me as anything but lazy...so why can't I believe that?

Before meals I get stomach aches, and my stomach tenses up. I even start to feel nauseated. I get so stressed and worried about food, and calories, and I don't even feel like I deserve food anymore. Since I've only exercised 30 minutes three times this week, then I don't deserve the food I get. That's how I feel. I feel like running to the bathroom to purge every time I eat, because I feel like I didn't deserve the good food I just put in my body. Or, I feel like never letting myself get satisfied, because if I haven't worked like a manic with exercising, why do I deserve to have my hunger completely satisfied? I don't. This is what goes through my head all day everyday now. Instead of thinking about how intensely I have to work, I'm now filled with thoughts of purging, wanting to starve, worrying about what people will think of me, thinking I'm lazy, thinking I don't deserve food, wishing I could exercise more, but also wishing I could just be okay with finally giving my body the serious rest it needs...it's constant. All of it.

I stare at myself in the mirror way more times than I can count. I'll stand there for long periods of times just poking and prodding at myself. Sucking in my stomach, squeezing the fat I think is there, pushing the skin on my face back to make it look thinner. I miss it. Every. Day. I miss my old starvation body, and think: "I could slowly get back to that. If I slowly work it, my mum and everyone else would never know...", even though I know that would never work. I try so desperately every day, to just try and work my way back to where I was before.

There will be moments when I am happy. Moments when I think: "You know, this is hard as hell, but in the end, I know it will all be worth it. Because I have a wonderful life waiting for me.". But the problem is, there are not anywhere near enough moments like that.

The moments that there are too much of though...thoughts of suicide. Planning how I'd take my life. I've thought of overdosing on pills, running in front of fast moving cars, stabbing myself repeatedly, so I die the slow and extremely painful death I deserve. These are the moments I have all too often.

I think I about suicide, purging, how fat and ugly I look, starving, wishing I looked like I was starving again, calories, exercising, food, and how I don't deserve that food, restricting, how lazy I am now...every day. All these obsessions are driving me insane.