For every negative, there's a positive somewhere. You just have to open your eyes, and want to see it

Last night, I had time to reflect on my life. On the good parts, and horrid parts, and you know...I discovered something. Something that I think will really help me through this hard time.

The title of this post, is what I discovered while reflecting. I thought to myself: "For every negative, there's a positive somewhere. You just have to open your eyes, and want to see it." And so that is what I did last night. I looked at all the negatives in my life, and found positives. Also, I thought about the saying "All things happen for a reason". I firmly believe that...still. Even though there is so much shitty stuff that has happened in my life, I believe it has all happened for a reason.

The first - my dad dying. I have no idea why his life was taken so suddenly, when he still had the rest of his life to live, and look forward to. But, I still believe it happened for a reason, as terrible as it is. And I also searched, and searched, and found some positives that came out of this horrid, horrid negative. One positive being the new-found freedom me, and my mum and Summer have. Used to, we'd have to rush through everything fun we'd do together in the daytime, because my mum would have to be home to cook dinner for him and such. Life was always rushed when my dad was around, and that really got me frustrated, because it felt like I never got to really spend time with my mum, and tell her stuff. We were all always so rushed...and so the positive out of his death, is that we have a pretty damn leisurely life now. And now, we can literally just spontaneously do stuff, and not have to worry, or rush.

Although I think you all know that as much as I love the non-rushed life-style, I miss my dad a lot. And I would give it all up in a heart beat, if that meant him being here.

But anyway, that's one situation I thought through, and found at least one positive.

Another - my anorexia. I often wonder why in hell I developed such a horrid thing. I get angry, and frustrated, and say: "Why me? Why? Seriously?"...but then I think, like I did last night. And this negative - this life affecting negative...well, it has a positive. And a bloody good one. You see, before all this started, I didn't care. I didn't care about exercising much, and I didn't really care about what I ate. Granted, I never gained any weight, or looked fat, I still wasn't healthy though. I never really exercised. I danced a bit, and ran a bit, but not enough. But you know what? Now, I exercise every single day. One and a half to two hours a day - whether I'm tired, in pain, hungry, feeling sick...I'll do it. Sometimes I over work it, but that's okay. I look at my uber fit body now, and that's all I need to see to know that over-working it sometimes, is not so bad. And without this disease, and the need to exercise and burn calories, I would have never become fit, and look better than I did before! So there's the positive. And it's an excellent one, because I'm generally very happy with the way I look...when Anna isn't being a bitch, or course.

So that's what I did last night though...I reflected, and found positives. And also found a good way to deal with the numbers on the scale. Everything I've gained since eating, has ALL been muscle - no fat. So I shouldn't be freaked out by the numbers on the scale anyway, right? If I know it isn't fat. Well, Anna doesn't agree. BUT. I have to remember my new coping device. I have to think of it as gaining muscle, rather than gaining weight. Because it is gaining muscle. Every time there is a higher number on the scale, it's because I've built more muscle. I just have to remember that, and I'll be okay.

But anyway, so yes, that is what I did. I reflected, found lots of positives, and have the beginnings of a new, healthier outlook on life. I'm on my way to getting better, and I won't stop until I've gotten completely well.

I won't give up, and I won't give in. So suck it, Anna. Go fuck yourself honey.

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.

Mend my heart back to a whole, and take away the pain so hidden underneath my dying soul...

Sorry for the lack of updates...it's just, anything I write right now will be kind of depressing. Well, depressing, and not worth reading in my opinion. But of course, that's just me.

But anyway, I guess I'll just give an update on my problems...

The weight thing is...well it's going all right I guess. I'm trying to eat more - well, no, not really trying, I'm giving in. It's hard work. Starving myself, and over working...and it's so fucking hard to be around all the wonderful food my mum cooks, and not eat it. It's the most difficult thing ever. It's why I do better with my "basically starvation" thing in the week. The kids aren't home, so it's not an eating fest. Which I like. And also I feel more motivated in the week. I'm not sure why, but I do.

And now I've developed a cold. I've got a sore throat, I'm exhausted, and I just generally don't feel all that well. I'm usually not fussed by colds, but this is different. I think my body is kind of freaking out. I danced today, and I've moved a round a lot - and by the time it was like 9pm, I was sitting on the sofa hoping I wasn't going to have to go to the emergency room or something. I was extremely exhausted(likely from all the moving about and really not eating as much as I should, I guess), and because of this cold, and also I react strangely to pain killers and such. I don't know why. But the effects are worse this time.

Even typing this out is taking a little too much effort. I really just think my body doesn't know what to do. I'm still not eating until I get full, which in my opinion is great, and I'm also still over working myself just a bit. But I thought my body was getting used to it, as I haven't been this exhausted since the first few days of my new "diet". But god...I'm really struggling right now. Breathing is even tough to do at the moment. It's not fun.

And as for the cutting...I haven't done that in a while, and was actually talked out of doing it last night by a very important friend of mine...he just cares for me so much, and, I can tell he really hates me doing this to myself - as well as the weight thing. He said every time he sees a photograph that shows my scars, he immediately gets sad. And he told me last night that he couldn't even explain how much it hurts him to see them. Which really woke me up...I was going to cut last night, but after all that, and then some more...there was just no way I was going to hurt him like that.

And my weight issues effect him too. He really wants me to put on a bit, and get healthy. And he also really really wants me to stop weighing myself every day. Which I want to too. But it's become kind of like...a compulsion. And I'm already OCD, so that's no good. And if I eat a little more than I think I should I immediately head for the scale. Which isn't good because I know my weight naturally fluctuates throughout the day after eating and such. And when I go to the scale I always end up feeling super depressed, and determined to starve the next day. Which has failed lately, what with all the food around.

I don't know...I'm just ready to stop stressing, and stop worrying about gaining, and stop thinking that I always need to be thinner. I'm at 104 now and usually pretty damn happy and confident with my new look...and then I see a photo or something, or a model...and it depresses me. I always think "God, how does she have such perfect boobs, and how is she so tiny?..." It's seriously depressing. Right when I think I'm happy with myself, I see a girl I think I should look like. It's horrid.

And I still want to be at 102. But that's not possible if I keep eating. Grrr, I just want to be normal, and not worry anymore. Seriously, that would be lovely.

But anyhow...that's been me, and my life lately. And it's completely depressing, and for that I am sorry to all the people that actually read this crap. I feel like I should be getting comments saying "Cheer up emo kid."