I run for the win

You know what feels good? Running. Running until your lungs are on fire, and you feel as if you'll collapse. Running from everything in the world, and only leaving dust behind. Not another car, nor human being in sight - just me, and the open road.

All I hear and focus on is the sound of my heavy breathing and my bare feet tapping the asphalt. The wind rushing through my thick curls, my heart pounding through my chest.

Yup. There is no other feeling in the world like running. Maybe this is just my opinion - maybe I love it so much because I have the blood of a runner - my dad. Maybe it's because I have that same speed and connection with running, as my dad did. And I feel incredibly lucky to have gotten the gift from him. Because it is a gift.

When I'm running, nothing in the world can touch me - I am invisible, and I am strong. I'm out running Anna. I'm leaving her tranny ass in the dust, and I am winning the race. I feel beautiful and graceful only then - because only then do I know I am both those things. Or at least that's how I see it. I'm fast, I'm powerful, and I know that I can easily out run anyone I know. I feel confident in myself, and that, my friends, is not a feeling I get too often.

So needless to say, running is my thing , and if I can feel all those wonderful things when I run, then I sure as fuck can carry that into the hours and minutes I'm not running. I just have to keep it up - keep mentally and physically running to beat Anna, and win. Because I'm a hardass bitch, and I won't give in to some jiggly-ass tranny look-a-like.

What's passed is passed, and now with weary eyes and tired feet, I walk the path to my future

You know, a lot of the time I wonder if life is worth living. If one more day, will be one more day not even worth my time and energy.

Anna gets me so knackered each and every day, that by the time the day is ending, I wonder if it was even worth living through. I wonder if I should have committed suicide already - if tomorrow will be the day I do the deed. Now of course, I will not commit suicide, because it is probably the most selfish thing you can do in life. Or at least I think so. But I wonder if I was just put on this earth solely to show the world I'm here, then die after I've had a few passing glances.

You know what keeps me going everyday though? What makes each day a little easier, yet also a bit of a challenge to keep as a main thought? The one I am deeply in love with. Every negative thought that passes through my mind - every time I contemplate suicide, his words come into my head. The words: "You are brilliant, and you will fight this. I know you can do it.". That's all I need. All I need to let me remember why I am here, why I was put here, and who was put here for me to find. Also for me to remember that if I was strong enough to starve for as long as I did, then I am sure as hell strong enough to kick Anna's arse.

I don't know though. I mean, I obviously think of my family and friends too when I contemplate suicide, and hurting myself, which in turn will hurt them. But with him, he's all I need, to know that I am supposed to be here, and that once I beat Anna, there will be nothing holding me back from living the glorious future with him I know I can, and will have.

I just have to hold on to the future, and never look back at the past. Because what's done is done, what's passed is passed, and now I have the brightest, happiest future to look forward too.

So I guess all I have to say now, is...thank you for being there for me always, my English Llama. I love you more than anything I could put into words. <3

My mind is like the ocean; it will rise and crash on the shore every second of everyday - up and back down again, over and over

You know, sometimes I think I could have a bit of bipolar disorder...

I only say this because my moods are so extremely up and down all the time. It's gotten to the point where I feel like a lot of people will start to not like me because of it. I mean, I'll be extremely happy one moment, then the next I'm either incredibly depressed and suicidal, or pissed off at someone - for what feels like no rhyme or reason. I really do wonder all the time if it annoys others. I'm sure it does sometimes at least, if not all the time.

This is just another issue though - another thing for me to feel guilt over. Because it's quite easy to put on an act and say I'm okay all the time, when anyone but my mum and Summer are around. With them I try, but I just can't hide it. I don't really want to hide it - not from my mum at least. I want her to know when I'm upset, and don't feel I can tell her that verbally. So I guess I just show her.

I want to talk to her about what I'm struggling with, and I really want to feel better about myself after our chats. But I don't. Because no matter how many times I ask her: "Do you think I look fat? Have I been moving around enough today? Did I eat too much..?", I will always get the same answers, and I will always feel the same even after my questions have been answered. Because until I can see what my mum, and everyone else does, then whatever my mum tells me about my body and calories, and exercise and such, it won't matter. Because I have to believe it, to feel better about myself, and things in general. I just still feel so guilty though. So so guilty all the time. I wonder every day if I get on her nerves all the time with the same exact questions I ask. I mean, she's told me that I don't, and she's just frustrated at Anna, but still...I can't help but think that.

And then I feel guilty for talking about my weight, calories, fat, exercise and such around Summer. I mean, she IS only 10, and I feel terrible for talking about things like this, so openly in front of her. Although at the same time, I'm glad I say what I say around her, because maybe after watching everything I have to go through with recovery, and how stressed and anxious I always am, she won't have an eating disorder, or ever long to be super thin like I did/still do. Which, I definitely don't think Summer will ever develop an eating disorder, and I also don't think she'll have any body issues, really. I mean, she will to some extent, because every woman does, but I don't think her's would be anywhere near as severe as mine. I mean, I've struggled with body image and weight and such ever since I was 9 years old, so.

But anyway, I just don't know what to do. I feel like I'm in a constant lose lose situation.

Heavily resting on my heart; guilt

Nothing can describe the overwhelming guilt I always feel, the weight on my heart, the lump of sorrow in my throat I swallow back every day, the pain I try so hard to hide and ignore.

The guilt is by far the worst. My mum and Summer are having to be in the car, and wait for hours three times a week - because of me. My mum has to put off her life, and have virtually no fun, because of me. She's thrown with accusations of cancelling every potential fun plan because of me. My mum' life is not fun right now, and that is all due to me.

God, you know I think everyday if it's the day. The day to kill myself, and end all of the things my mum is being forced to do right now, because of me. But ironically, even killing myself would bombard her with a different kind of things she is forced to do. But that is only for a short while, where as my recovering from anorexia could take years. If I end it now though, my mum will soon be able to get on with her life - as will everybody else.

I hear my mum say life is all about me now, and there is an indescribable amount of guilt that rushes through my heart, my brain, every part of me feels the guilt. I don't want my mother's life to be all about me, and I don't want Summer's life to be about me either.

But what do I do? What do I do to make it not about me? I could cut myself, and break the contract at ACE, then I'd be forced out, and my mum's life would no longer revolve around me. Sure I'd have to live my life in a constant battle against Anna, but I could do it. I could manage, and I would survive. I could put on a happy face, like I always do, and say everything is okay. Because it would be, as long as I had it all under control. I think I could do that. I'm seriously contemplating leaving treatment. Because I can honestly say that the guilt comes extremely close to being worse than the disease.

I hate myself. Everything about me. I hate the fact I'm putting my family through this, I hate the fact I have this disease, I just generally loath myself and everything about me. I'm so ugly - inside and out. I'm a nasty person that doesn't deserve to be here. I don't deserve this treatment. I don't deserve to be healthy. I deserve to be ill, and suffering. Dying a slow death, is what I deserve. And I had that, when I was starving. Every second of every day I contemplate going back to starvation, so I will live in pain. That's the life I deserve.

My family doesn't deserve what they're being put through. But I deserve what I think I should be put through. And it isn't what I'm being put through right now - because I am recovering. I deserve to be suffering, that's just how it is. I think that's what I was put on this earth for - to live a few years of my life in happiness, then die a slow and deserving death.

I was born a worthless person, and always will be. So why not own up to it, and end it all now? That is the question I'm still working on answering. It will come to me. I just have to have a bit of patience. When the day comes to end my worthless existence, I will know. I always do.

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.