Ribs and Cages. english girl, living a mia lifestyle.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
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.
