Inside the mind of an eating disordered girl...

Anorexia. What does that mean?...I'll tell you what it means.

It means going through your freezer for over 20 minutes just looking for something "low calorie" enough, it means reading ever single food label brought in the house so that you know what your mum might possibly want to feed you, and how to reject it because of the calories, fat, etc. - it means popping in pieces of gum when all you want is just some more food, it means over-exercising and working yourself until you feel you're about to pass out - even if in the middle of all this over-working you're having heart palpitations. It doesn't matter, because, you're burning calories, right? You're burning fat, right? It doesn't matter if your chest is stinging and it feels as if you're about to have a heart attack. Because you're burning off "those c's" - you're losing more weight, not maintaining, and you're making Anna happy. Right? Right. But no...wrong. So wrong. I see that, I see that over-exercising and not eating when I want to is wrong, but it feels so right.

Why do I still look at myself in the mirror and see fat? Why do I still think if I looked like a model, everything would be perfect? Why do I go searching every morning for an episode of America's Next Top Model, just so I can watch all these tragically beautiful girls, and wish I was one of them. Why does that bring me joy to imagine being one of them? Why do I fantasise and pretend that they're living my "dream" for me? And why do I despise every one of them because they are allowed to be in their eating disorders - they are allowed to be tragically beautiful, like I once was. Was. That's such a horrid word to me regarding what it means. Why can't I be "is", instead of "was" - why can't I be like those girls, and feel beautiful again? Why do I have to be...healthy. And...fat.

Those are my E.D. thoughts. Those are the thoughts that run through my head pretty much every day. And you know what my description of anorexia, is? It's me. I do that. Every. Day. I worry about napping because it will mess up my moving around time, I worry about food CONSTANTLY, I worry about gaining weight(even though I am not maintaining yet), I worry about every single thing regarding my food, calories, fat, weight, weight gain...I'm obsessed.

I'm learning about food, and digestion, and calories and such in my biology, and it's fascinating...I love to read it. I love to read about the things anorexics crave to know. I wouldn't, however, have loved to read all that stuff a couple years ago, I would have found it boring as shit, and never retained any of it simply because of that. But I have a disease now, and it's taken over me.

There are so many "whys" in my vocabulary lately. I'm always questioning the things that I can't explain, that no one can explain. Like, why do I think those models are beautiful? Why do I want to look like them? And why the FUCK do I have anorexia?! Yup. Lots of "whys" going on in my head. And on paper, and on my blog. And...well, everywhere.

And another why...why do I always have such down beat posts? I mean, bloody hell, come on! What am I, if not the girl that cried "oh woe is me!". Ugh. I promise you guys, soon...ish, I'll start writing happier things. For now I'd just kind of like to vent though, and basically let you all see a little bit more into the mind of an eating disordered girl, because God is it hard. And no one without the disease can truly understand. So that's what I'm here for, to hopefully stop the anger directed at what feels like me, and to help more people understand without having to go through it.

But you guys totally know that despite all my moaning and whining, and un-healthy thoughts, I'm totally trying my hardest to kick Anna's ass, right? Because I totally am. Totally.

It's almost time again, to head back home on the road to recovery, the highway of healing

I was going through all the photos of when I was starving today. And I can honestly say I miss it. I miss all of it. The hunger, feeling my bones, seeing my bones, feeling like a beautiful super model for the first time in my life. All of that is now taken away from me. All of it.

I think every day how I'm going to slowly work my way back to where I was. How each and every day I'll get closer and closer to my goal weight. It's so far away, but it isn't impossible. I've almost been there - I was only 7 pounds away when I stopped starving. I had almost made it.

Yes, those two perfect little numbers stick out in my head each and every day, and every time I think about reaching those numbers, I remember that wonderful man I was talking about a couple days ago. I think about his opinion on how I look NOW, compared to when I was starving. And you know what? Being thin really isn't worth losing such a wonderful relationship. It just isn't. Because that's what would happen if I starved again - I'd drift away just like I did before. I did it with everyone, not just him. And I don't want to lose him or anyone else.

So point is, I think about starving all the time. And when I skip meals, it makes it particularly difficult, because then I get a taste of the feeling again - I start to remember why I had that feeling all the time. I start to remember what I looked like because I let myself get that hungry, and I want it. I want it so bad. But not as much as I want my wonderful, sexy English Llama, I'll tell you that. Looking like a skeleton is just not worth what I'd lose to get there.

So here I am - still trying my best to fight Anna, and come out strong and recovered. And in just a few days, I will be fighting with all I've got. I'll be back in the real world, with the centre, and my support group. I'll be back in recovery world. And I need that. A vacation is strangely not what I needed - although I've enjoyed it, I think it was too soon to leave the centre and venture out on my own. I wasn't ready. But alas, my journey is almost over, and I will be back on the road to recovery again in no time. Which means I'll be one step closer to fucking Anna's shit up. The stupid bitch won't even know what hit her.

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.

These fragile bones aren't ment for over working...when will my heart stop beating?...

You know what I'm tired of? Dreading the days to come. Each night I go to bed dreading the next day. And I wake up thinking to myself: "Another intense day...".

The thoughts, they never stop. I'm still constantly worried about calories, and always counting calories. For breakfast, I never left myself go above 80 calories. And if there is no food in the house 80 calories or below, then I simply won't eat, OR I'll eat a couple strawberries. I'm always stressed out. I never relax, and simply don't know how. I'm struggling just sitting here trying to write this post. I always feel like I should be up doing something.

Okay, actually, let me just describe each and every day of my life, lately. So maybe you all can get a better idea of what I'm really talking about.

I wake up in the morning, and the thought following "Another intense day...", is always: "As soon as my feet hit the ground, it begins. The intensity, the pain. My day starts.". I go to bed every night around midnight-1am, and wake up at 7am or earlier every morning. It takes all my power just trying to stay in bed longer, because I know that once I'm out of bed, everything becomes intense. But the problem is, I can't stay in bed longer. I feel compelled to get up and start my day. So I do.

First I have breakfast - my 80 calorie, or less breakfast. Or no breakfast at all. Then I take pain pills. Every. Morning. Because if I don't, I won't have the strength for my intense days. For all the exercise and moving I do. I simply wouldn't be able to function, because my body hurts so incredibly much every day. The pills don't take away the pain, they just numb it for a bit. But anyway, after breakfast and pills, I sit down for 30 minutes to an hour, just so my food can settle. If I sit down any longer than an hour, I freak out. Really, if I sit an hour, I freak out. This is how it is all day though, I count my hours resting, and my hours up doing things. And usually, my hours up doing things always out numbers the hours of rest. Which is how I want it.

Okay, my food is now settled, so I get up and get dressed and such. After all that, I rub pain numbing cream all over my body, basically. Then I do an intense cardio DVD for 30 minutes, and after that, I do intense dancing for about 25-30 more minutes. When all that's through, and I feel like collapsing, I don't rest. I walk around, clean, pace, until lunch time. I'm starving. Literally so hungry. An hour after breakfast every morning, my stomach is roaring so loud, you'd think it was a T-rex coming to devour a highly populated city.

Lunch time arrives. And do I relax and eat as many calories as I want? No. Not even close. The most calories I will allow myself to have, is 700. And even that number of calories terrifies me if I really think about it. Okay, so lunch time is now over, so I clean the kitchen. I wash dishes, load the dishwasher, sweep, mop - things like that, every day after lunch. When all that's over, I HAVE to rest. Just so my food can settle, and I can intensely exercise again. So I let myself draw, or write or something for about an hour...then the intensity begins again.

I head up to my bedroom, apply MORE pain reliever cream, then do the intense cardio DVD again for 30 minutes. After I'm done with that, I then to ab exercises for 8 minutes. And when that's through, I might dance again for a bit more. So by the time I'm done with all this, my body is screaming. My knees and every other joint are popping, like they do all the time, it takes a ridiculous amount of effort just to try and stay upright...and you know what? I STILL won't rest. Because I can't. If I do, I'm lazy. So I walk around, looking for SOMETHING to do. Anything. I pace, and run around just trying to burn off extra calories. I brainstorm, just searching my mind for something that I could do. If I come up short, then I sit down for a bit. But literally, only for a bit. Not longer than 30 mins, and most times, shorter than 30.

So I wander, and pace, and run around, and look for things to do for a few hours until it's dinner time. Once it's dinner time, I relax a bit more. I'm not feeling as tense as I do throughout the day. I'm easing up, just a wee bit...

I allow myself to reach the total of about 1,800 calories each day. So at dinner I can eat up to 1,100 calories. Which seems like a whole lot to eat in one sitting, but when you have a metabolism as fast as mine, and your body literally takes every calorie to just try and support the intensity of each day, then you wouldn't think it was that much. My body really needs somewhere between 2,500 and 2,900 calories each day. Which...holy fuck. I struggle sometimes trying to make it above 1,200. Because I think what happens is, I get afraid of eating too many calories, so then I don't feel as hungry, I just tense up, and my stomach hurts, and so I don't eat as much as I should. Which I'm trying to work on.

But yes...that is how my day is, every day. And after dinner I try and relax for a few hours. And sometimes I can, but most times I just can't. I have to do something for just a bit longer before I can rest. And when I get ready to get in bed at night, I never feel like I deserve it. I don't feel like I deserve to rest that long, because I STILL feel lazy. Even though most days I'm up and doing things WAY longer than I am resting.

But this is what Anna does to me. She fills my mind with thoughts of calories, burning calories, exercising, guilt if I rest for "too long", and other things. It's exhausting. Emotionally, and most definitely physically. My body is falling apart. I wonder every day if it will be the day my heart stops. That's how bad it is. That's how hard I am on myself, and my body. And the worst part is, is it's getting worse...

After every meal I contemplate purging. I pace, and think, and wonder if it really would be worth the nastiness. I wonder if it would really help me to lose weight. I could just eat normally, then throw up, exercise, and be okay. I'd likely lose weight in no time...right? That's what my mind says. That's what Anna says. And I'm struggling trying to not listen to it all. Because if I can't go back to starving, eating normally then purging seems like the next best thing to that.

I don't know, I'm just ready to not think like this. I'm ready to want to rest, and be okay with giving my body a break. I'm tired of worrying about calories, and fat content, and exercising like a maniac. I'm ready to be normal. If there is such a thing as that...

I just want to get rid of Anna now. For good.

If Anna could be photographed...(look at photos starting from the bottom, and going up. blogger is f-ed up, I know...)

...So this is it. Anna from beginning to now. This is how she has affected me, my appearance, my mind, and my life.

No creative title needed for this - life just sucks right now. Blah, blah, blah...

Life is hard. And you know, there's nothing worse than being severely depressed, and trying to get out of an eating disorder. Especially when I can't relieve myself with a thrash at my tender flesh. Ugh...

Oh well. I'm now on the road to recovery. It's going to be difficult. It IS difficult, but I have to keep pushing on, because if I don't...Anna will win. And as I think we all know, that my friends, will never happen. I'm going to bitch slap the little tranny look-a-like, and if that doesn't work? I'll just kick her in the balls. Oh wait, did I say balls? Oops, I forgot she wasn't a TRANNY. My bad.

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.