Life is Hell

God help me. I'm obsessively binging. I ams tuffing food in my mouth without knowing what i'm doing. I used to love Christmas. Now I hate it. I hate holidays. I want to be thin. I'm terrified that I'm going to get fat. Obese. Huge.

Help

Fuck fuck fuck. This has to be short so I don't get caught.

There is no scale at my grandma's house. NO SCALE!!!! I'm going insane.

Everyone is all up my ass about eating 24/7.

I feel disgusting, fat, and like a waste of space - and believe me I'm taking up a lot of space.

I cut myself again last night.

HELP!!!!!

I just want to go home now that I'm here, but when I was home all I wanted was to come here.

Thin

I just watched the HBO documentary "Thin" for the second time. It's crazy, because I totally identify with those women. Everything that they're saying makes so much sense. Some of the women (like Jennifer) had been struggling with their ED for ten years!! I can't imagine being in this hell for that long. Wow. I've really been thinking a lot about treatment lately and researching different facilities online. There are so many options. I want to go into a residential program at some point, but I NEED to get to my GW of 100 lbs first!!!! Is that crazy? I want help but only after I've lost a certain amount of weight? (14.5 more lbs to lose as of this morning) It's a control thing again. I know that in recovery I will lose my control over my ED (or at least the control I THINK I have) and I want to be in control right to the point of walking in the doors of treatment.

I lied to my mom today, said I had gained weight and was back at 120 to get her off my freaking back. She believed me thank god. I also had therapy with CD today...we talked about control, but no mention of food. I'm not telling her. Because ana is MINE. I know I've said that before, but I really feel like it is the only constant in my life. I can't let go of that.

I leave for my grandma's house in the morning. My biggest fear is...WHAT IF SHE DOESN'T HAVE A SCALE????? Holy shit I would take drastic measures if that were the case. But anyways, J and I are doing a 2323. Today was 200...I went 21 calories over. Mad at myself, but ok with it to some point. As soon as I get to my grandma's house it will be easy to hide my ED in the chaos that 14 people make around a dinner table. And I will NOT be sitting next to or near my parents, I guarantee you that! :)

Maybe I will allow myself one special treat on Christmas. One. Maybe. If I've been good.

I have this crazy plan. I will set my alarm for 4:30 am. I'll get up and go for a run, come back, get a shower, and say I couldn't sleep that's why I was up so early. Then when I'm hurting so bad I can't walk (inevitable due to the consequences of running when my body can't take the strain) I get to have meals brought to my room where I can C&S and hide the food instead of eating! Yay!

We'll see how that plays out...

Urrgg...Can't Purge :(

So as the title mentions, I cannot purge. I tried three times today! Nothing. I get so frustrated with myself.

So today was supposed to be a liquid fast (tea, water, grapefruit juice). Of course, my mom ruined that. My cousin HG had a day off so the three of us went for tea. Tea (of course) involves fruit and pastries and sandwiches...and the place we went to had a flat rate of $25 per person. My mom saw me just drinking tea and she was like, umm I'm paying a lot of money...EAT FOOD! So I did. Guilt central. I felt so fat! How many days in a row is this that I've messed up????

HG said I needed to gain weight. I smiled on the inside thinking that she was fucking delusional. She's so tiny...she weighs 100 lbs! I swear she's my real-life thinspiration. But then I made a mistake: I let slip that I have lost a total of 27 lbs. SHIT!!!!!!!!! I'm going to have to come up with some clever lie to explain that one...I hate lying. They keep piling up and getting more and more complicated.

I had been so excited because my AM weight was 111 lbs. I was seriously hyperventilating when I got on the scale for my PM weight, but I only went up one pound, to 112 lbs. I'm relieved that that is the extent of the damage.

I.MUST. GET. TO. ONE. HUNDRED. POUNDS.

Jesus Christ I'm so fucking worried about going to my grandma's!!! I'm going to try and chew and spit breakfast and dinner (eat alone in my room) so that I can try to eat a "normal" dinner with the family so as not to raise suspicions. Good plan? We'll see.

Tomorrow I am starting 2460 with my "ana buddy" J. Cheer me on! Haha if anyone is reading this, which is probably a no lol.

More Thinspo...

Argghh I want these ribs/legs!!!!

Chew & Spit

So I officially am obsessed with chew & spit. It's exactly like it sounds - you chew up food but spit it out instead of swallowing. You get the taste without the guilt. I did it twice today and three times yesterday. It makes me feel...powerful. Like the food is so close, but I am strong enough to resist the swallow. I know it's a bad thing to do, but frankly I don't give a shit.

I was so good yesterday: a total of 273 calories all day! (Thank you C&S!!) I was being so good today too. My AM weight was 115.5 and by 6:30 pm I had only consumed 130 calories. But then I went to my friend RF's house. Shit. I AM SUCH A GREEDY FAT LARD ASS COW. I ate....3 shrimp. 5 tortilla chips. 1 cucumber slice. 1 chocolate. A glass of sparkling cider. 2 slices of cheddar cheese. About 10 grapes. In short...I BINGED. I didn't have the heart to calculate those calories. I just wrote in my Daily log that it was too many fucking calories. I'm ashamed...

And since my body has blessed me (haha NOT) with the inability to purge, I am left feeling fat, bloated, and a failure. Stupid stupid stupid. Not to mention the fact that it's after 11 pm and I hurt way too bad to exercise. Ana is yelling at me, saying to do it anyway, I deserve more pain because I ate so fucking much. But I just can't. I only got 5 1/2 hours of sleep last night and I'm exhausted.

Luckily (I guess) my PM weight is still 115.5...but we'll see what the morning brings. If I am the same or weigh more I am going on a liquid fast. Water, green tea and grapefruit juice only (30 cals for 8 oz.). I'd better be down at least a 1/2 pound tomorrow morning...but I don't see how that's possible.

Damn. I hate myself. I hate my life. I hate who I have become.

Oh. And I have a new GW: 100 pounds. When I reach my goal weight I will consider getting help. Until then, I have told one friend (RF) and am talking to J ( an ana friend from online) via texting for support. But I'm not telling my therapist CD anything about it. If she asks about my eating I'm going to say that it's exactly how it should be. And that's true: it's exactly how it should be for under 500 calories per day!

Disbelief

I don't even know where to begin. I weigh 117.5 pounds. I have gained back 5 pounds. 5! I am so fat. So disgusting.

I walked into the kitchen this morning and my dad poked my stomach and was like, "You look so skinny." HAHA! As if! I feel like I am a complete and utter failure. All I have had all day is 30 cals worth of grapefruit juice. And I still feel bloated and disgusting.

I didn't even add up the calories I ate yesterday. Between the muffin half and my mini sushi binge last night...God. Why can't I do anything right? I was good at this! I was good at losing weight! I've lost 20 pounds total! SO WHY THE FUCK AM I SUDDENLY BAD AT THIS AND AM GAINING WEIGHT? I am going to be such a fat cow.

And...I finally said the words out loud to myself in the mirror this morning. I looked at my lard-ass self and said, "I have an eating disorder."

Not that it changes the way I feel about myself and my body or that I still am going to continue on this path. But I think it was important to say it out loud instead of just thinking it.

I don't know what to do. I feel...hopeless. Like nothing will ever be good again.

I am a fat cow

HOLY FUCKING SHIT. 103 my ass. No clue what the fuck my scale was doing, but it lied. Now I weigh 116, apparently. THAT'S 3.5 MORE THEN YESTERDAY!!!!!!!!!

I am a cow. A fat cow. I am making myself pay for that half a muffin. That muffin half ruined my run of lost weight. And I'm freaking out about the holidays. How the hell am I supposed to hide this? How can I get out of eating? I won't have my low cal low fat snacks! My grandma doesn't even buy skim milk!!!! I swear if she doesn't have a scale....I'm not exactly sure what I'd do.

I hate my life. I hate my disease. I hate my body.

I'm afraid to tell anyone what is happening inside my head. I have this feeling like I'm sinking and and I don't know if I'm going to be able to swim to the surface if I sink for much longer. What the hell am I supposed to do? Go to treatment? But I'm still fat!!!! If I have to go to treatment I want to at least be skinny before I go in.

Sob. I must have done something to deserve this hell. Ana, HELP ME!!! HELP ME PUNISH MY SELF. I DESERVE NOTHING BUT THE PAIN I AM RECEIVING.

103? No...???

So extreme hiding tactics were put into motion today. Last night I stole the scale from my parents bathroom and hid it in my room. Now I can weigh myself whenever I want. :)

I consumed 543 calories yesterday (over my goal, but not TOO bad) and exercised (but not until I cried so therefore not enough). When I woke up this morning I weighed myself and the scale said 103.

What? Excuse me? One-oh-three? My goal weight was 105! And I was 112.5 yesterday...how does someone lose 9.5 lbs in one day? And I'm still fat. My scale is lying. I know it. I'm disgusting.

So at the doctors appointment I had eight batteries in my bra and wore two shirts with a huge heavy sweater and my thickest jeans and thick socks and my Uggs. I weighed in at 117.8 lbs. So how could I have been 103 this morning? It literally is IMPOSSIBLE. And cruel. To have that false joy for a split second and then go, ... wait. NO. That can't be right. Look at my butt. Look at my arms. Look at my stomach. Look at my thighs for god's sake!

And to make matters more sucky, my parents decided we were going out to breakfast. AFTER I'd already eaten a piece of toast. So I got a muffin and ate half. I swear I felt SO FUCKING FAT after eating it. I seriously felt disgusted with myself. When I had to get a shot at the doctor Ana was whispering, "Don't make a sound, you deserve this pain, you fat cow." I'm so sorry. And now I feel like I should skip dinner. Hmmm....maybe I can tell my mom I'm feeling sick, have her bring it to my room, and dump it out the window? We'll see I guess.

I WANT TO BE SKINNY!!!! WHY AM I STILL FAT? :(

OH MY GOD!!!!!

AHHHHHH!!! Are you ready for this? Are you sure?

I was having doubts about all of this weight stuff last night. I read the book Wasted by Marya Hornbacher and it scared me...made me wonder if I really wanted to go down this path. That and the fact that I ate 543 calories yesterday instead of keeping it under 500 like I was supposed to because I was a fucking weakling and ate a piece of fudge. Fudge! What the fuck was I thinking????

But I woke up this morning and I went and stood on the scale...and it said....112.5!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!! I was praying for simply 117! I am filled with the kind off joy I haven't felt for months. Months! I feel happy, I feel whole. I trace my ribs under my shirt and smile. A real smile, one that actually lights up my eyes. I think I'm getting addicted to this natural high, the high of feeling superior to all the weak people who guzzle down full-cal soda and eat huge portions three times a day. The only time I feel really happy is when the scale says I weigh less then I did yesterday. This is taking over my life. Memorizing calorie counts and figuring out how much more I need to lose to meet my goal...my goal for right now is 105. I need to lose 7.5 pounds? How fast can I do it? We'll see...

I LOVE FEELING SKINNY AND LIGHT AND PURE AND FREE! I feel like my body isn't controlling me. I smile when my stomach growls because it needs nourishment and I'm denying it. And no one can know. NO ONE CAN KNOW. I have so few things that are mine now. I have to tell my parents everything about how I'm feeling, detail pain and symptoms to doctors, talk to my therapist...this is something that is MINE. And I'm not going to let anyone take it from me!

My biggest obsession right now is the fact that I have a doctors appointment on Friday. I will get weighed. The last time I was there I weighed 124 pounds. I don't want them to notice a huge weight loss in three weeks!!! SO...I'm thinking of experimenting with water loading. I need to figure out how much I have to drink and how long I'll be able to hold it in. Maybe other stuff too, a heavy sweater, bean bags in my pockets...hmmm. I'll have to try out a few different options.

What?

Okay...I'm frustrated today. I only consumed 388 calories yesterday! I was so proud. But I woke up this morning and weighed myself to discover...I'm still 119. Seriously? I was hoping for 118 or even 117 by some miracle. I don't understand, that's for sure.

Well, today I'm going to try to stay under 500 calories again. I'm going to exercise until I cry and when I wake up tojmorrow I'd BETTER be at least 118!!!! My stomach is flat but not concave like I want it to be. my thighs are so fats, and so are my hips. They need to dissappear!!! I'm so angry at fucking Ankylosing Spondylitis that it is keeping me from doing real exercise. The pounds would be jumping off by now!

My biggest problem I think is avoiding detection. I have to go to the doctor so often. They weigh me every time! And I've told my parents and my therapist that I'm eating normally again. Last night I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep and I thought, maybe I should tell CD (my therapist) about this before it goes too far. My stomach just hurt so bad all of a sudden and I heard this voice that just yelled "No!!" I was scared at first but then I just rubbed my stomach and said that I wouldn't tell CD. The voice stopped and my stomach became fine again, not hungry at all. Was Ana telling me that?

I'm worried because I'm going back east for Christmas. My parents and I are staying in my grandma's house with tons of relatives. How will I hide this? How will I figure out calorie counts? How will I avoid eating all the wonderful, tempting desserts that my grandma will make? It's going to be hard. I know that. Especially since my dad already told my grandma that her job is to fatten me up sice I'm looking skinny. Urrgghhh...the mere thought of that gives me the creeps. I already sit on my ass in the house all fucking day most days because of fucking AS. If I ate more at this activity level I would be OBESE! No. I have to continue on this path. But no one can find out. No one.

I just wish I had a friend who I could compare notes with, you know? Set goals and fast together. My friend K had an ED a couple years ago, but she is recovered. The selfish part of me wants to ask her for tips, to ask her to help me, but I'm afraid that she might fall back into it. She doesn't need to. She's taller then me and weighs less.

I am lonely though. I'm trying to pray more, to listen to Christian music when I do physical therapy or am falling asleep. I try to remember that even though I hate myself and what I have become Jesus still loves me.

So here's to the day's goals:

1. Eat less than 500 calories
2. Do physical therapy exercises and more until cry from pain
3. Go to bed hungry
4. Keep eating habits a secret!

With any luck I will be down a pound (or really as many as humanly possible haha) tomorrow morning.

Thinspiration

I used to think bodies like this were so gross. I loved the way curves looked. I was proud of my hips. Haha! I was so naive. Bones are so beautiful.

Body Hatred

So...it's been so long since I last wrote. My life has been crazy. Medical diagnoses, doctors appointments, therapy, being so deeply depressed I wasn't sure if I would survive...or if I wanted to. This has become my life, day in and day out. Over the past two months something else has developed. I hate my body. Not in the typical way. I hate my body because it hates me. Every time I try to go and do something normal with my friends (ie shopping, movie, etc) I can barely walk the next day. I feel isolated, alone. I feel like my body is running my life.

That is not the way it should be! The way it should work is that I control my body. I should have absolute say over what it does. my body is giving me depression, anguish, lonliness, is cutting me off from everything I love like horseback riding, being at school, running, and so many other things. I am going to deny my body what it loves: food.

Before I got diagnosed with the big stuff (AS) in June of '08, I was 5' 4" and weighed 138 pounds. Lard ass. I was bothered by my weight, but didn't really feel up to doing anything about it. Now I'm doing things about it! I now weigh 119 pounds. My low weight has been 116, which happened over Thanksgiving weekend, and my high weight in the past week or so has been 120.5...I want to get down to 105. That is my goal. I want to be underweight for my height. I want to punish my body for everything it has done to me. I WANT TO BE IN CONTROL OF ONE FUCKING THING IN MY LIFE.

Today I ate 1/2 cup of nonfat vanilla yogurt (60 cals) and a small glass of diluted cranberry juice (90 cals) so far. But it isn't even lunchtime yet of course. I want to keep my cals under 500 today. Think I can do it???? I sure as hell hope so.

I was never much of an exerciser, but now I just want to go run and run an run, to burn off all those disgusting calories in me. But my fucking body won't let me. It hurts too bad. I'm going to physical therapy today, and when I get home I'm going to do those exercises until I'm crying from pain.

I deserve the pain. I still have fat on my hips and butt, I want to see my ribs more clearly. I love the feeling of my clothes being too big, of people telling me I'm too skinny and that I need to gain weight. Hahaha! As if! I need to LOSE weight - 14 pounds to be exact.

I'm so depressed despite my Prozac and the fact that my psychiatrist just increased the dosage. The only time I feel happy is when the numbers on the scale are lower. It's the only time I see light in my eyes when I look in the mirror.

Welcome, Ana. I know that you are bad. I know that you could kill me. But, as someone who has seriously contemplated suicide, would that really be so bad? If you can help me control my body and punish it, then take me, Ana. I'm all yours.