Ribs and Cages. english girl, living a mia lifestyle.
Thursday, 16 December 2010
I go home for christmas this weekend. This whole week i've been laid in bed with gastroentiritis...(a kind of stomach flu) At first I ate what my boyfriend spoonfed me, and drank the rehydration sachets, mixed into the right amounts of water. But now I'm taking laxatives behind his back, and turning away from the clean, steamed meals; the fish and the rice. I can see the pain in his eyes when he looks through my facade of recovery. He'll die from my pain long before I do. The stomach cramps are terrible, so I'm going to go to sleep
Well, today was my first proper day of lectures (after what's known in england as Freshers week) and i have to say, already I am fascinated. However, there is a slight problem. One of my lecturers for my course has actually met me before....she runs a specialist clinic in Sheffield for the treatment of eating disorders....yeah. Awkward.
Except, so far she's being totally cool. Well...she acknowledged me with a kind of humourous ''well, you've taken this course? well i hope it's informative for you." and that was it. So if you ask me...I got off quite lightly.
I'm getting really interested in doing the lemonade diet. I've tried it before, but i got too disgusted with the stuff and just reverted to a regular fast. But maybe if i stick it out this time, It'll get me started back on my routine of shrinking. I'm excited!
I have a cold. A pretty bad one actually....so I'm stocking up on the multivits, and drinking soooooo many gallons of water, I'm practically an ocean inside. Hopefully i can flush this bitch out before the week starts to wane.
Basically, me being on this course is going to mean that if my hawkeye spots anything useful for my readers + me....It will be posted =]
I think that's all for now! I'm going to cook my lovely boyfriend a nutritious meal, the smell of which will tide me over cravings wise. That's the problem with recovery. You lose that....loathing for a while. Or i find that's the case with me anyway...I'm probably just weak though.
Well...earlyish july saw me in IP. A few weeks have passed and I still can't believe it all happened. I was allowed out at a weight of 105lbs. The last time I weighed myself at home before recovery, i was 79lbs. Can you imagine how gutted i am?? so I am now 1o3lbs, and moving into a new flat with my boyfriend this saturday. Starting university on the monday. A degree in Nutrition....ironic, eh??? Got better grades than i thought, due to working constantly to avoid eating! double edged sword. So was able to play the field, and get on a course i had thought out of my league.
Flirting with the idea of a fast. The part of my brain that is brainwashed by recovery tells me not to mess up the prospects of university. But then the rest, through which my loyal parasite speaks whispers...don't lose. Don't lose me.
I know i'll never lose it. It is me, and I am it. We go through such difficulty, trying to function when our world is our bubble of hunger and of lies. I know i should definitely try to be more regular with this...it straightens my head out a little.
So far today, i have drank a cup of tea and apart from that i am empty, and it feels like home.
Tonight has been the best night of the month. Someone motivated me to bleed. I haven't felt this urge for years, but now, with my open flesh, I am free. I have drank water today, a fair amount of it. hours awake:110 Days since last ate:24
My photos on the beautiful ED community of which I am a member recieved a negative comment from one beautiful lady. So I cut myself, as deeply as I could on the forearm, one for each of her words. My blood makes lazy patterns down my arm, following gravity, changing direction as I change the position of my arm. I feel dizzy as I write this, but so ALIVE
I'd gotten to about...13 days without any water or other drink aswell. But at about 3am this morning, I could see beetles crawling all over me, and I don't think they were really there. So i got a glass of water, and sipped it over the course of four hours. Gave me something to do. The sky was actually light at 3:39am. It was pretty. When I don't eat or drink, and stay awake, i am privileged with pretty sunrises.
It doesn't even matter to me anymore that I can't sleep. I feel powerful. I NEED NOTHING. I watch my boyfriend eat, when we're together. I know that I am stronger. I sit across the room from him when he eats. I just watch him. I know he doesn't want to bring it up. HE DOESN'T WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FACT THAT I NO LONGER NEED SUSTAINANCE. I don't need sleep.
My mind is clear, and I feel good in the early hours of the morning, when I think long and hard about everything there is. I feel like I know MORE because I have LESS, and because I feel this way, I know that I HAVE MORE because I TAKE LESS.
I feel bad for people who haven't got this knowledge. When I walk in the street, people either don't even look at me, or they stare. I know I'm ugly. But they are waste receptacles for consumable garbage and swill. They sleep in their beds at night and dream their worthless dreams, while I am awake. seeing everything for what it REALLY IS.
Even the glass of water tarnishes my new state of power. I can taste blood at the back of my throat. Punishment for consumption. I am sorry, Claudie. I will stop putting things inside me. We do not need them.
So I haven't eaten in a while. I've stopped counting the days. I spend my days laying in bed, or brisk-walking around the neighbourhood... Don't eat never eat or you'll purge I hear voices in my head, and I think i'm going mad. I have a strange presence in my head. She is French. Her name is Marie-Louise Claudine Jeanne Therese. I call her Claudie. She has my face I don't know how much longer I will be able to pretend I am not mad, when I so clearly am. My body has a cycle of puking up fluids that I can no longer name. Making me shit and quiver uncontrollably. Then I can't shit, no matter how hard I try. My muscles ache. I talk to my mind often. We conspire against my body. I don't sleep, i just stay up all night. I feel manic, and on edge. I cruise websites for pictures of girls I want to be. I am neglecting the love of my life in the same disgusting way that I am neglecting calories. I avoid them both, not wanting their nourishment. Both make me swell, one with love and uncertainty, the other with pounds of weight that I'll never want. My heart is screaming. But no one notices. I stay in my room. I have never been so in touch with every twitch of emotion in me. I am what I used to hate. Neurotic and self-absorbed. Nothing else matters to me. The exam stress triggered this fast. And this is not the ordinary 'fasting to be better tomorrow than I am today' fast. This is the frightened, skittish avoidance of nourishment. I have sat, determined, in front of a boiled egg. A celery stick. A cube of cheese. A cube of chocolate. A glass of water. A cup of tea. A tic tac.
None of these could I put into my mouth.
I physically cannot do it. I am deliriously happy I am deliriously scared. I want help I run away from help
I feel like soon I won't move. I'll lay, forever until I crumble away. Is that so bad?
I think I've found a safe food. Today was the first day back at college. Trying to hide my *inner turmoil* sucked.
Anyway
Lunchtime rolls around, what to do what to do, don't wanna look abnormal on the first day back
It's pretty nice weather right now, and i made a discovery... Duno if they exist in america, but there are these things in england called calipso/calippo "shots", which, as opposed to the 100cal ice lollies are only 25 calories for a whole carton. I can consume them slowly and look like i'm just enjoying an ice-treat on a hot day
Thank you baby jesus.
I haven't purged in about a week. It's all I can think about, and I want it badly. Everytime i go to the bathroom, I can think of nothing but how easy it would be to just lean down there and relieve the urge.
But There is nothing inside. Nothing to come out. My skirts that I bought for college slip and slide down my hips. I feel like I am retracting myself from the earth.
It's barely about appearance anymore. It's survival. If I eat, I will not allow what I have consumed to remain inside me.
I have to break the habit, and it's killing me. I sleep next to my boyfriend every night, wondering about a binge solely so that I can purge it. Just to feel the high again, but I musn't, because I've been bleeding, and I can't let anyone know my secrets. I think of mummy and daddy watching me from heaven, seeing the battles inside me. I feel demented. I wonder if they're proud, or if they're sickened by this thing that they created before they left.
I wonder about dying, and seeing them. I wonder about escaping the torments I suffered in the care system.
If I died, would it be any improvement on living?
But I love my boyfriend.
Next week, I'm going back to my own home, after staying for quite an extended period at my boyfriend's house, and I am worried about the freedom I'll have regarding food. At least here, It is not my own house, and I am slightly discouraged from raiding the cupboards in the dead of night intent on tearing myself from the inside. But when I get home, I'll only have my crappy self control to rely on. No dinner tonight, I musn't. It's been the same story for many nights.
I've been having a couple of rough days, fasting always leaves me torn between the feeling of hunger and the longing to succeed. Also, my addiction to the glorious release of purging screams at me from the depths of my guts.
I go out, I try to distract myself. I wander through the supermarket aisles. Laxatives. Diet pills. Diet shakes. And the endless, sickly, enchanting rows of food, the chocolate, the carbohydrates in their many alluring forms, and oh god, oh god the cakes, the pizza, the deli counter. The vegetables don't even catch my eye. They stay in their rank section of cabbage-smelling stands, and I hate everything that enters my body, which is nothing but smells and sights. I want to stuff senna down my throat until I empty too violently to remain alive. I want to stuff all the evil simple carbs into myself, and then tear it back out with my own fingers.
This is my life. This is my day-to-day armada. To eat is to purge, but purging is dying slowly. I'm no anorexic, even when i try. Nature within me is food that gets ejected post-ingestion. If only I could be stronger, and say no altogether, forever. But the sickness is a drug. First, a satieting binge on everything I've ever dreamed of, which is everything that lives in my waking nightmares. Then, the bloated, crying, whimpering crawl to the bathroom, and freedom. Clean. Rinsed of everything that was within.
I'm telling myself that this, what I am writing, is not right. I'm telling myself that this blog was for helping others, better tips to make as healthy a lifestyle as possible out of this hell.
But I am going cold turkey on my absolute favourite thing, which is also the trident in the hand of the devil that tortures me. It is all I think of. It is all I want. I am the bile, longing to find its way up, and out of this acidic chamber.
Can you feel my desperation? can you feel it?
I cannot win. Eat or die.
But if I eat, I will want that relief, I will want to feed my hurling addiction.
And if I purge, like I'll want to
the blood that comes out of me will surely run thicker, and if it runs thicker
game. over.
This is a bad day. This is a cutting day. This is a day in which i will be unreachable. Not love, not friendship, not anything gets to me. Nothing but the urge.
and I think only of myself, and the others in the world that curl up, in the same ball as I do
and cry over the fat
and cry over the food
and cry over the hunger
and hurl themselves around the tomb of their withering bodies
Hello everyone. So sorry that I haven't posted in so frickin long! would take me ages to explain all the annoying crap that's sprung up, so I won't =p
anyway, Currently in the middle of a gruelling experiment with cleanses. Green tea is like a god to me. Over here in England, there was a one week break in February where my boyfriend tried to save me. I did really good, for three weeks, eating and even training again for marathons. I was covering some serious miles, and felt great. But just because I was doing well externally, That didn't mean that her voice was gone. Huh, all I could hear after a while was that soft, but persuasive voice, which turned harsh and malevolent if I tried to ignore it. So I stopped eating, again. And this is how I'll stay I guess.
Anyway, enough about me, I just wanna tell you, this site ROCKS, it tells you how long (ish) it should take you to reach your goals, on certain intakes/certain levels of activity.
http://www.losertown.org/eats/cal.php
Also, I can't emphasise enough just how important it is to lift weights and do crunches etc.
You must do this if you are serious about reaching your goals.
I will come back, with some information about how to initiate (without fail) a bowel movement in the morning.
Having regular bowel movements is key to weight loss.
Just back home from having a week with my boyfriend. We both saved up so that we could make a fun week out of it, starting with valentine's day, which we just ended up spending at his place anyway, but that was nice. I made a promise to the part of my brain that still clings to its former identity as a cheerful, knowledge thirsty romantic, that i would leave all my ED crap for this week. Just one week. It went better than i could have thought, since my size 2 jeans are now loose. We did so much stuff, walking up the hills and ice skating. It was totally fun...but i lost weight. I came to the realisation that i must now do this without even thinking about it, because neither I nor my boyfriend kept any tabs on my eating habits. Sure enough, when i started unpacking my bag about two hours ago, what did i find?
Bags of food. I ask you, how does one ACTUALLY do that without realising it? It's so ridiculous i can't even begin to imagine what the hell has gone wrong in my mind that makes it possible for me to actually do that? Why do I do it, am I happy? I don't even know!
anyway, i wrote a poem the other week and I shared it on another site that I am a member of, so I thought I may aswell share it on my own blog too :-)
It doesn't have a name yet, it just is what it is.
Dear Body. Hi, it's me The soul that's lived inside you all these years and days and weeks. look, i know it always gets a little crazy when we speak But i'm not here to start a fight or initiate a war It's just i felt something bad going on within our core Body, i know you feel it too because you're curled up on the floor.
Dear Body Me and brain are sorry We're sorry for making you spit out what you've chewed and we're sorry that at other times we weigh you down with food
Body, brain is sorry for not knowing how to pace our metabolic rate We're sorry for forcing you to hurt yourself 'cause we're so filled up with hate
and I'm sorry i wasn't powerful enough to stand up to those girls, to ignore and walk away from all the nasty things they'd yell, I know your knee still hurts sometimes from when they pushed us and we fell
Oh body. I'm so sorry for not doing what was right I know that when you went to bed you'd curl up while you cried I promise i was there within you hurting every night thinking hard of someway that i could make this heavy burden light
Body, me and brain know that we're saying this too late. We'll never have you back the way you were when we were eight. Brain and I are sorry for directing your sad eyes in the direction of the girls who all had really little thighs, And i'm sorry for making you buy all of those magazines just because i wanted you to look at all those pretty skinny teens.
But understand that this can't only be OUR fault? YOUR metabolism is what came to a halt! ....but let's not blame each other even though we aren't friends let's face it, we're just stuck this way until we meet our end then we'll part ways, and you will have some rest and i'll go someplace nice if my sins don't fail the test
I think i have to go now, this talk just hurts too much these wounds will never heal and they'll always hurt to touch.
went shopping today to spend my birthday spondoolies, and bought some new skinny jeans that i have been *want want want*ing in my head for yonks....anyway, picked up a size eight, and then stared longingly at the size six (american size 2) and on a whim, picked them up and took them to the fitting room instead of the size eight....
guess what gals? LIKE A GLOVE I practically leapt around the fitting room, because being one size away from the american size zero feels damn good actually, i have missed size zero in the same way that one misses a dead pet, except size zero is less cuddly, and doesn't drool on your lap
I measured myself recently, and i am as following: Bust-31 waist-26 hips-32
so my tiiiny chest (i am like a 9 year old boy with a tiny man-boob situation :-P) is actually within the size zero criteria, as is my hip measurement, but my tummy is letting the team down! It's such a kick in the arse you know? So, it's a more intense workout for me, as soon as i am rid of one huge pain in my ass.....
The aunt and cousin situ..... ok, My aunt and my cousin have come up North to stay with us (they're from surrey) and they're both....i dunno, relatively big ladies, and they're on "diets". Now, since i last saw them, they've perhaps lost.....a stone and a half between them? And somehow this allows them to commandeer the title: The Diet Nazis.
OH MY SWEET JESUS, they have been right up my rectum about this entire thing. I ate four grapes, and they (who, no offence, probably have my waist measurement on each thigh) made comments about how "that figure won't last long if you keep chomping all day"
FUCK OFF!!! seriously! They proceeded to ATTACK the remnants of my birthday cake (not that i care, i deliberately asked for a flavour that i don't care for) So i sat there watching them, and stretched pretending to yawn, so my top would stretch up and they could get a load of my ribs. silly cows.
aaaanyway. They're currently in my room, so I'm going to have to wait until they leave before i can weigh myself every morning (my scales are in my bedroom, and they're being COMPLETELY territorial. Psychos.)
I've been on a very irritating plateau, at just below 99lbs since my last bloody blog, so tomorrow, i'm whipping out the big guns with a salt water cleanse. Wish me luck!
It was my birthday on the 30th January, i turned 19. This led to much contemplation about my years with an ED! It was a pleasant day, spent up until 4pm with the whole family as well as my boyfriend (who arrived with flowers, and told me i had to wait until we got to his for my presents, hehe) and then me and my boyfriend left to go and see a film and then make our way to his house, where i was staying the night. I spent the entire week persuading myself to eat a small meal at my birthday lunch, which i did (yay me!! this is a big achievement for me) but ooooooh boy did i regret it!!! Basically, i was completely fine until 1:30am, when i woke with a start in my boyfriend's bed, feeling extremely odd...went into the bathroom, and (sorry to be graphic and gross) LITERALLY did not know which end to put down on the toilet first .....
.....mucho sick!! felt especially guilty, because my poor boyfriend ended up being up half the night with me because i was so ill. Yuck!
I've had a horrible streeeessful couple of weeks exam wise, which means i've only gotten to 99lbs, when i would have preferred to be at around 95 by now :-( but i suppose this is where i am, i need to accept that and soldier on!
Have been incorporating either protein or vitamins into my breakfast, which in jemimah-language means i either have 1 boiled egg, or one piece of fruit. Then i eat dinner at around 4pm, which is usually a small serving of steamed fish, or a quorn fillet (they're fantastic, only 47cals) with some steamed veg. Inbetween these meals, i drink lots of water and up to three soya milk teas, but no more than three, that is my absolute limit, and i rarely reach it. So all in all, i've been feeling fairly nice lately, like i've found a happy medium between restricting and fasting, as my breakfast is always less than 80 cals and my dinner is always less than 250, and i do about an hour and a half of exercise most days (struggling to do more because of the problems i've been having with my respiratory system = [ ). I think i was probably ill on my birthday night because the balance was compromised, and my body reeeally didn't like it!
anyway, here's a lovely little bit of information for you: Cranberry juice=low cal, right?
ocean spray light cranberry juice=only 20cals per 250ml!!!!!
love it and love you!!! speak soon lovely skinny ladies Jemimah xxx
Hi M-ilie, Let me tell you a little story, okay? to take all of the embellishments and so on out of what is otherwise a long story, here we go:
I was seven when someone called me 'fat' for the first time. To be exact, i think it was 'fat ugly cow' by an older student in my primary school. From then on, i because very shy, very unhappy, and very very lonely. These insults turned into bullying. Older girls stood around me in the toilets shouting "YOUR DAD TOPPED HIMSELF, YOUR DAD TOPPED HIMSELF". My father committed suicide in 1997. Not only was i being taunted about my painful losses (they mocked the deaths of both parents, but i do not wish to speak about my mother's) but I was also suffering taunts such as "he probably did it because he was so ashamed that he produced YOU, you're ugly and FAT" One day, when i was ten, they held me down, and stuffed sandwiches from their lunchboxes into my mouth until i could hardly breathe. Then they each kicked me, and left me there on the floor. I was too frightened to tell anyone, and so their deeds went unpunished. I turned eleven, and knew that i had february, march, april, may, june, july and august until i would start my new highschool. A fresh start. So i started hiding food in my sleeves. only a bit at first. Then more and more until that was inefficient. Finally, i got into a cycle of spitting whole chewed mouthfuls into my school jumper sleeves at dinner. At school, i just emptied my lunchbox into the bin as soon as i arrived in the morning. And yes, my weight changed dramatically, until finally i collapsed, one month into my brand new highschool year. I was rehabilitated, and placed back into my classes, only to find that almost the whole of my yeargroup thought i was a freak, and the teasing continued. From then on, my weight fluctuated, between periods of eating nothing at all, to periods of eating so much food that my stomach would stick out like a lead balloon, and then inducing vomiting, so much that i would randomly wretch during the day, and spit blood onto my hands. I was hospitalised for a tear in the upper part of my oesophagus. The lack of nutrition strained my heart. My pulmonary artery was so strained that it began to collapse (this is a lasting condition, known as Pulmonary Artery Stenosis or PAS), and i was hospitalised to have a "ballooning" operation done on my pulmonary artery. Ever since then, i have suffered from asthma, and every chest infection i get is excruciating, and a mere cold can mean many weeks being too weak to move from my bed. I got larger, reaching a weight of 120lbs, which at 5ft does not look very nice. I am now irreversibly unhealthy, and obsessed with losing weight. I have missed so much of my education that i am now a year behind all of the friends i actually managed to make. I had to watch them all leave for university, leaving me alone. I cannot eat a thing without feeling dirty, and guilty. My throat is constantly sore from the acid in my vomit. Everything aches. I am never warm. My vision blurs a lot, and i suffer migraines. I am not allowed to drive, incase i pass out at the wheel. I am so depressed that i cannot concentrate, and i fail almost every exam that i sit, which depresses me more, as i am, and have always been, a perfectionist.
M-ilie, sweetheart, think about what you are asking me. In your comment, you stated that you are new at this. What is 'this'? eating disorders? please don't think i am singling you out to be horrible, i absolutely don't mean any harm to a single hair on your head. All i want to say is that having an eating disorder is a miserable existence. It ruins everything. Every door of hope slams shut in my face. You cannot start having an eating disorder by asking how to do it. An eating disorder is a mental illness. And if you try to live this way, let me warn you, it sucks the joy, it sucks the hope, it sucks the life out of you. You are left an empty shell. Perfection is the goal, but the goal is unattainable.
Please, try eating a healthy diet, feel blessed that you are not mentally disordered, feel happy that you can walk away from this unchanged, rather than trying to chase the path of a mental disorder. Think of schizophrenia! that's a mental illness, not glamourous, right!
please feel free to contact me whenever you like, to talk, to vent, or even just for a listening ear
but please don't ask me to infect you with a disease that is not contagious sweetheart, it cannot be done, and you shouldn't want it to either
here is a website on healthy diet and exercise, and may i suggest swimming, if you are unhappy with your body, as it is truly excellent.
okay, can i just vent??? OH MY GOD, i am so annoyed!!! I've had this really horrible cough for weeks on end, so i finally decided that after putting up with it for so long, i would go to the doctors, as i am asthmatic and it was starting to hurt. Anyway, this stupid B*TCH of a doctor said it would be best to do a full physical just to check that my pulmonary artery stenosis isn't relapsing, and to just generally see how my health is (i've been in hospital a fair few times for respiratory problems and also ED) and she weighed me, and wrote a LIE on the records on her computer!!! she wrote that I am underweight again, but I'M NOT UNDERWEIGHT YET!!! not this time, last time i was underweight, but this time i genuinely am not!!! I am furious!! I am 100lbs and 5 ft, which is a BMI of about 19.7 or something, which ISN'T UNDERWEIGHT!!! so now my dietician has left a message on my answerphone, and the whole stupid f*cking thing is starting all over again!!!
AAAAAAARGH!!! why does everyone seem to be out to annoy me?!?!?!
good god.
Sorry about that, it's been a really difficult week and now this!! I'll come back and do a proper post when I'm calmer!!! I just had to vent about that lol
down to 101.2 pounds....wish I would lose faster, i really hate waiting to get thin....anyway, bought some new dresses yesterday...so that was fun. My hips and bust are within the size zero measurements, but my stomach isn't. which sucks. I hate that it's my stupid stomach stopping me from fitting into model clothes. Mind you, at a tiny 5ft, I'm sure as hell no model anyway.
anyway, comments!!!
for Charlie: Technically I should have said ravioli, it's just that in england, ravioli is generally this tinned stuff with meat in the middle, whereas this ravioli that I had was just pasta wrapped around spinach and tomato, lol, so It's entirely my silly fault for not just saying ravioli :-P My brain just said "pasta parcels" and I blindly obeyed
also thank you to the anonymous commenter, I love feedback, and alternative ideas, I really value everyone who leaves me comments :-)
I've gotten into a routine over the last couple of weeks. On the days I go to college, I boil an egg and eat that (76 cals) as a way to please mum, and drink herbal teas when I'm thirsty (don't often actually get hungry, which I'm dead thankful for-I'm really only an emotional eater, and I enjoy the sensation of food.) Then when I get home, if i can't get away with not eating anything, I have a light salad, and maybe a small jacket potato or a small quorn fillet (one quorn fillet is 47 cals-they rock) and then i do schoolwork and cleaning-I can't stand to have a messy room- and then I exercise like hell until it's time to shower and go to bed.
On the days that I know i will get away with it, e.g. the days when I know mum is busy all day, I fast, and make pretend food mess for her to discover and be annoyed at me for. It's better that she thinks I'm inconsiderate and haven't cleaned my own plates etc than for her to realise I'm into this again.
I'm quite depressed recently...Exams are weighing down heavily on me. I find Chemistry REALLY hard, but i have to do it and i HAVE to pass if i ever want the career that I literally dream of.
Does anyone else ever think to themselves: will this pressure ever end????
Yeah, I'm in a bad place today...But I'm thinking thin, and smiling at the thought of all my fellow ana's and mia's in this world, and it makes me feel less alone.
I was thinking earlier, while i was eating a meal my mum cooked-as a suprise, without telling me- knowing all the while that I was going to purge it straight afterwards, that a lot of my issues with bulimia stem from caring so much what people think. If I had it my way, I would never eat. This morning I weighed myself, and I was 102.6 pounds...was a little disappointed that i've barely lost anything. Then I got in from college, after a day of pain (pulled my muscles REALLY badly in my calves, exercising last night, can hardly walk and everyone at college found this particularly funny.....assholes....) and my mum had a whole meal cooked....packed with carbs and dairy, so basically my worst nightmare. So i ate a portion of it (pasta parcels in sauce, Cauliflower cheese and potatoes) because I just knew that the second i refused it, she would be devastated. I think my mum sees cooking food as giving love, in a way. I also think that, being orphaned at a fairly young age made me attach massive importance on family, so now that i have one....I'm kind of desperate not to make them mad, or sad, or anything less than happy. So i sat there eating it, hating every calHORRIFIC mouthful, and then went and drank a litre of water, pranced about a bit to shake it all up, and then purged the hell out of it. And now i feel crappy, and sceptical that the reading on the scale tomorrow is going to be what I want to see....
So, to wrap up, feeling lousy and in pain today!!!
if any of you have tried my bag-in-sleeve trick, let me know how it went!!!
Okay, wanted to pop in today to write about eating at the dinner table, with family or friends. I don't know about all of you guys, but whenever I'm told i've got to eat at the table with a group of people that i love or share friendship with, My emotions shoot through the roof. I get torn between being DESPERATE not to upset them, and being utterly repulsed by food.
I've done the whole chew and spit..I've spooned food into my pockets, I've done allsorts. But they both involve a lot of food (which can be sloppy) going somewhere that might not contain the mess. At my school, While the boys were learning to make chairs and shelves and whatnot, the girls learn to make bags, hats, hot water bottle covers and other such things using sewing etc.
One day, after a particularly horrible dinner, where i ate and then purged...only to return and have my mother burst into tears because she could "smell sick on me" (which rings her alarm bells because of the times i have previously gone into recovery at newbridge house) I started to think...isn't there some way that I can avoid all this upset?
So i thought about it for a while and then i decided to try a little idea i came up with.
You'd need: a needle thread a sandwich bag some form of blazer/jacket with sleeves that are loose-ish but not floppy (can also sometimes work with a dressing gown, if you can convince your parents that you're too cold without it)
okay, first of all, get a few of these sandwich bags to test out the needles on them. You want the stitches to hold, and you don't want the bag to rip. Try to get the sandwich bags made from the slightly thicker plastic..they're mostly resealable.
not too far down the sleeve, but low enough to be unseen, stitch the bag to the inside of the sleeve, so that one side of the bag is stitched at the top to your jacket, and the other side is free. (you'll need to turn the blazer/jacket inside out to stitch it) You need to make sure that when you put the blazer on, the bag is in a place in the sleeve where it can hang freely (hence the loose but not floppy sleeve-if it was floppy as well as loose, the eventual weight in the bag would drag it down and ruin everything) oh, and i just remembered- stitch the bag to the sleeve of the OPPOSITE hand to the hand that you hold your fork in.
make sure you match the colour of your thread to the blazer. It doesn't have to be perfect, just not obvious-trust me, your folks won't ever think to look for this, but if you have a random line of stitching standing out like a sore thumb against the fabric of your jacket sleeve, they're gonna think it's a little weird.
okay, so after testing it with a few weights, you can go have your meal.
ONLY put a spoon/forkful of food in your sleeve when no one is looking
ALWAYS remember the bad, if you put your arm flat on the table, the food might spill- depending on the size of the bad, you can normally lean the underside of your forearm against the table, hand slightly aloft and just look like your holding your knife. You can still cut the food, i promise, but just be careful.
if you've got bread, you can tear it in your hands, as if you're eating it in little chunks, and then with the same hand as your bag-sleeve, you can just wait till the opportune moment, and just drop it in there!
this isn't such a good idea at restaurants
when the meal is over, excuse yourself, empty the bag in the toilet and deal with cutting the bag off later, or take a quick trip to your room instead of the bathroom, and cut the whole thing off into the bin. (maybe wanna tie the top in a knot first)
it's unlikely that you can skip a whole meal this way, but you can certainly reduce the amount you have to eat, especially seeings as you can leave some on your plate on top of this, and say you're full.
this may all sound a little strange and difficult, but if you practice the concept a few times before using it at an actual meal, you should be able to get it down :-)
anyway, hope this works out for any of you who try it, let me know!!! ;-)
Okay, so a couple weeks ago, A group of my friends that i went to sixth form with(which for people from the U.S. is kind of like college I think) invited me and my boyfriend out for "pizza and drinks and a catch up", where we would meet on this date (4th January) at half three, and then eat and drink etc for as long as we wanted. Of course, in my head, I heard the funeral march. Oh my god, i thought, what on earth am i going to do, PIZZA??? I'd literally rather do some kind of passionate embrace with a really violent animal. But these are my friends, and since they all went off to uni (I have been left behind, as i went into hospital for my ED and thus became a year behind on my studies-although I have been very fortunate boyfriendwise...he decided to stay with me, and continue his studies when i was well enough to do the same) Anyway, so I really didn't want them to know I was doing all this again, as I really hurt them last time....and I'm not exactly gonna see them again for a long time, so for the sake of their feelings i decided to fast up until today, and then just try to eat it. My god, I didn't fast long enough I'm telling you. I got the thinnest crust I could-Tuscani, and the healthiest topping I could, and I did manage a couple of small slices, so I felt sort of proud that I didn't ruin the evening. But then the alcohol time came, we all went to a bar and everyone started getting all merry....so I ordered one SoCo and lemonade and sipped it reeeeeeally slowly, then a white wine and lemonade and didn't drink it all. So all in all, I'm hoping I didn't do too badly, but I just can't shake the guilt. Or the feeling that I'm somehow dirty now that I've ruined the empty cleanliness of my insides... Anyway, so that was my day, now I wanna respond to my comments :-)
Okay, first of all someone anonymous left me a lovely comment about how they found my first entry touching, and that they thought it was good that I wasn't affected by being an orphan. I want to say thank you, I was really nervous about telling all about myself like that, But i wanted to tell the whole truth, you know? I won't lie, I do go to some dark places when I think about never seeing my parents, never being able to form friendships with them. But I have ana, I have my boyfriend, My new family and now I have this blog, and I just know I'm going to meet some amazing people through this :-) keep in touch
Secondly, I had a comment asking about the fatigue that ana leaves us with. Well, I have LOTS of tips for that :-) I find that fasting is absolutely FANTASTIC for losing those pounds, and actually, as long as I stay hydrated, I generally don't feel too tired (apart from in the mornings) Water is your friend. Drink as much water as you can bear to drink. Also, if there is a time in the day where you know you need energy, it's okay to prepare for that. If you eat for energy straight before something, then after fasting, the digestion process actually wears you out. So maybe if you have a particular occasion, eat something earlier that's healthy, yet a bit heavy...like a banana for instance, something you'll feel guilty about, so that you won't eat again because of the guilt, but it's high enough in sugar that it energises you just in time for whatever you need it for. If there's no special occasion that might merit eating, then try to do things externally that make you feel energised. Maybe as soon as you get up, have a really quick refreshing wash with something that smells fruity and livens you up, and a wake up tea, again something a bit fruity for the morning. And just continue pepping yourself throughout the day. In my lunchbreak, I always sneak off to the bathroom at some point and use a cucumber facial wipe to just freshen my face and eyes, and then I redo my make up if i was wearing any. Works a treat!!! And then, if all else fails, CAFFEINE PILLS!!! they are like my saviour :-P but I try not to rely on them too much, as they cause one hell of a crash if you take too many! The first time I tried them I was thirteen, and I knew nothing about them....I took about six through the day, and then got on the bus to go home, and woke up at the bus station which is roughly....28 miles from my house. That was a baaaaaad day!! (i didn't have to walk but my mum was sooooooooooo p*ssed off at having to come and get me)
So anyway, I hope that helps!!! If there's anything else you've heard about, but aren't sure if it works, just ask, as I am fairly sure I've pretty much tried it all.
Anyway guys, thanks so much for reading. Next time, I'm gonna be telling you different ways I've managed to sit and socialise at a meal, with family and friends, and not spoil the evening...but I didn't eat a THING!! ;-)
I have been in recovery for anorexia and bulimia five times.
I am now 104 pounds, post recovery, and I am relapsing. Today. But i need something more. I am eighteen years old, and i have carried this need since I was eleven. This need to shrink. I don't think i can live with this on my own anymore.
First of all let me fill you in on my life as it is right now. As I've said, I'm an english eighteen year old. I'm doing my final exams to get to university. I want to be a radiographer. I love bones, even the ones that aren't mine. I have been in love for three years, with my soulmate. He is the only thing I have that is pure. We'll call him DMN.
I am an orphan, but i have an amazing family who accepted me, and have allowed me to live with them for many many years. I call them mother, father, sister, brothers. Because they are, simple.
I write a lot. I paint. I play musical instruments. Wherever my mood takes me, I go. I am temperamental and grumpy, but I'll die for a friend.
All in all, I'm a very average human being. But i have an addiction. That addiction is food. I don't mean just eating it. I obsess about the smell, how it looks, how it feels. But i hate it inside me.
I am making this blog, not to tempt others into my lifestyle, not to write a sob story, not to be an attention whore.
I want to make a mark...I want to show everyone that people with eating disorders aren't void of personality, they're troubled, but they're like anyone. They can BE anyone.
talk to me. relate to me. share with me.
Jemimah 104 pounds, 5 feet tall. Rehabilitated, but as always not for long.
