Looking Up, I hope

I feel like I am going in the right direction again. Toward recovery. I am scared too, that I will slip up again or that I will do something to royally screw this up. Or, that I am just having easy days and I am not really doing any better; the circumstances just happen to be better. But here I am, eating a bad food, not feeling extremely guilty, just "average" guilty maybe and thinking about how I really might recover from this.

I am willing to try. I make no promises, but I am willing to try.

I will be something more than the ED

Right now, I am scratching and clawing my way to avoid b/p-ing and trying to eat according to my MP. I know, like I have said before, the road to recoverED will be difficult and long. But I know I want my life back. I want to be more than the bulimia, the anorexia, the self-loathing. I want to be a rider, a true equestrian. I want to learn and have the energy to be curious. And I will do what it takes to beat this disorder and I will achieve.

New Day Rising

*sigh* This is getting old, very old. I wish I could stop b/p-ing. Why do I feel SO fucking fat? I know I am not, but god, do I feel fat, and ugly, and stupid. I know beating up on myself is not going to get me anywhere, but I do not know what else to do.

1.) I have got to figure out how to stand up for my rights in this dorm room. I feel like I would be whining to ask her to stop laughing randomly at whatever she is watching, but I am finding it really distracting. I could go upstairs, so why should she have to change her behavior. I could change mine. I know this is something I have to work to change. It is not always my responsibility to change. Sometimes it is, but not always. I do not really understand compromise; I understand giving in. Damn, I do feel really taken advantage of and I think that makes me take a lot of things really sensitively and then I end up in a circle of voicelessness.

2.) I am going to figure out how to appreciate the little steps I take every day. There are things I do every day to move me in the right direction. Usually they are outweighed by the things I do that go the wrong direction, but they are something. I need to learn how to be proud of myself. Some people are overly proud and full of hubris--definitely NOT my problem. So what did I do today, I ate a really good breakfast, right on with my MP and I tried to eat a healthy dinner and that spun a little out of control. I even allowed myself to journal in the middle of the day.

3.) I am going to work on improving my body image. In all reality I do not have a terrible body. It could, like most, use a little more exercise, but more than that, it could use a little less cutting, b/p-ing, restricting, general self inflicted torture. Moreover, how do I learn to accept my body as it is, before I go about trying to improve it--in a healthy manner? Well, I have two body image books on their way from Amazon.com and a little activity "Body Conversation" and yoga. I also have a T and N who might have some suggestions. Definitely on my list for next sessions.

4.) Food is not bad and I am not a bad person for eating. I think this has a lot to do with the body image issues. And my whole "I do not need" issue. I do need, period. Letting myself acknowledge that fact is a definite necessity for me to learn to allow myself to recover. Needing does not mean I am showing weakness. Not needing might show that I am a callous little b*tch, but needing shows I am human. Moreover, my MP, I need to follow it. I NEED to follow it. I cannot be trusted to make wise food choices; I cannot be trusted to choose my own foods. I NEED help to do so That is okay. I have a disease and I would not expect anyone with cancer to not need help; why do I expect me to not need help??

5.) Emotions do not mean I am out of control. The ED/SI does not put me in control. Control comes from acceptance. I am not accepting myself for who I am and the ED/SI is not controlling my emotions; they are burying my emotions such that when my emotions do surface, I am totally out of it--nervous breakdowns, panic attacks, NCUR-plan moments.

6.) Tomorrow is a new day. I will work toward recovery again tomorrow. I will try to love myself. I will try to be gentle with myself. I will try to treat my body with respect. I will do what I can to help myself get better. I do not want this ED/SI to steal another opportunity from me or ruin one more day. I will slip, of course; slips are part of the road to recovery. But relapse does not have to be on the road to recovery anymore.

One day, then the next

I know recovery is not about stepping across some magic line and then ta-da, I am all better. . . Nope, recovery means working my ass off to learn about how to function, how to control the ED. Recovery means slipping sometimes, I know that, but I still hate it when I slip and even though I do get one hell of a "mia high" I really feel as though I cannot recover. Verily, verily I say unto you, this is rough.

And I feel alone here. I know how weird it is to be a girl who WANTS to vomit. Can you comprehend that, on any level? I know the ED has separated me from people I care about, but at the same time I want them to come in and get me. My T and I were discussing how I want love and validation, but rebel against such things because I find such things very scary. I isolate myself, I know I do, but I am not really feeling the desire to get out of myself and relate to another individual. I do not want to be lonely, but I do not want to be with other people either.

I hate being a walking oxymoron--I want to b/p and starve at the same time; I want to be loved, but alone; I want to be approved of but I want to be self sufficient. I live in a little constant state of fear because I do not know how to function or what to expect--except to expect to be crazy.

Hoping, but being realistic

I know this road is really rough and I know the reality is that recovery is incredibly difficult. Especially if I truly want to be recoverED to the point where I am not constantly watching out for the ED and have freed my mind from the ED thoughts. Willpower can save me from the ED behaviors, but until the ED thoughts change relapse will always be a very real possibility. And the ED thoughts and beliefs absolutely affect my reality outside the ED/SI. Things like interpersonal relationships, career aspirations, general life satisfaction, and daily emotional functioning are all crucially impacted by my ED.

I am, however, feeling at least hopeful. Like this recovery is moving somewhere. Yes, I do slip, even on a regular basis. But I feel the want to recover right now. The desire to live a happy healthy life and live it for ME. Up until this point, recovery has been about "what I was supposed to do." Why did I see an N/GP/T? Because I had some cerebral understanding that people with ED/SI were supposed to see these people. I am at the point now where I want to work, I want to try very hard, I want to recover for my own sake. Who cares what I am supposed to do? What I am supposed to do is a shaky reason to recover; now, I want to recover because I want MY life to be better.

I could continue through life on the path I have been on, but now I realize that I have the choice and desire to continue on a new path, despite the difficulty of the start, a path where I can really love myself. I do not know how yet, but I am finally feeling willing to learn the lessons.

Anxiety and Conquerable

Finally, a good day, kinda. I was restricting a lot, but I got some really big, good news and I was given new spirit to defeat this disorder. There is no way I am going to be as far in this ED/SI when I go to Chesterland Farms. Not flying at an intermediate fence with brittle bones from not eating. Not doing Intermediate dressage with two purges in a day. NO FUCKING WAY!! I do not know how long this is going to last, but I am going to work as hard as I can while this feeling lasts. I decided to try to eat a fear food everyday; I had cheese soup today. I decided to try to meet my calorie goals too, even though my mind is still telling me to undercut them.

Honestly, the anxiety and the disgust associated with food still exist and I still want to eat less; I still feel the urges. I just have some renewed vigor to fight them. I am still not comfortable with eating too may real calories. I would rather have just negative calories. And for now, I will be okay with that because I do not want to leap to fast right now. But I am willing to leap a little bit.

I have new fight in me and I am going to try to nurture the little bit I feel right now into a lifestyle such that I can at least stay headed toward recoverED, even if I will not end the journey until I deal with some of the crucial underlying issues.

Should I learn to just live with this???

I suppose today was better than yesterday, but not by much. I did pretty well staying on track until Econ Club and the rice cake I grabbed on the way out the door. Well, actually, maybe yoga had a little trigger effect. I noticed how much weight I have lost and how I could feel my hipbones. I wish those hipbones were a little more pronounced, but I was proud of myself. That is as proud of me as I have been in a long time. Simply because I could feel hipbones. So, yeah, that made eating the rice cake especially difficult, which made me feel really, really out of control. You see, I was in control until I ate the rice cake. AND THEN ALL WENT TO HELL. . . kinda.

I got back from Econ Club and I very, very much wanted to binge. But I did not, at least not for about an hour and a half. I posted for a fin at SF, read, listened to music, worked, sat with the urge. I finally gave in though. Actually, I still sit at 1660 calories for the day. and about 1300 of those I threw back up again. I am unhappy that I did give in to the ED. I want to eat normal, I really do.

But the Mia serves such a fix for me. I binged right in front (well, behind) my roomie and I got away with it. I get a sense of power from that. FUCKED UP ED MIND!! I get a sense of independence from b/p-ing; I am, however, truly dependent on the ED to function right now. Scary, huh?

I also feel like the idea of recovery is a joke; I should just try to figure out how to live with the ED in the safest and best way possible. I am tired from recovery. I want to be normal. Just be normal. . . huh? I guess I do not know what that means to be "normal" although I can say that I will limit "normal" to "healthy, eating patterns" Most of my idiosyncrasies I think I should enjoy and be proud. Who knows what I want? I want to give up the ED. Step number one: tomorrow I will not binge, tomorrow I will not purge; tomorrow I will eat 650-700 calories; tomorrow I will journal before class and before bed; tomorrow I will not feel my hipbones when I do yoga. Tonight I will not binge again. I will have a string cheese before bed, just like my MP says I should and do a crossword puzzle in bed. Tonight I will not feel my hipbones or ribs before bed. Period.

Confused, Lost, Uncertain

What a day! I feel like the ED is getting worse, not better. I restricted until about 7 and then all hell broke loose and I b/p-ed twice and then binged again about 1am. And I am planning to restrict tomorrow. . . I have a calorie goal of 600 calories tomorrow, theoretically so I can get to the N's goal of 800 a day by January 31. Sigh!

I knew, I saw the b/p coming, like days ago, and I even had a good idea why, but I did not even try to stop the b/p, instead I planned for it. I PLANNED! I bought the binge food; I ate it fully appreciating the fact that I was going to purge. And while I do not really remember what was going on in my head while I was b/p-ing, I am sure I got some emotional release and I know I got a little "mia-high" because I was just so. . . happy? afterwards.

I knew that I wanted to b/p because I wanted to prove to my roomie that she cannot "keep an eye on me" out of this disorder. I wanted to prove that I, I, was running my life and, god damnit, if I want to b/p, I will! But in the end, b/p gets me no where; why can I not see that?? It is not that I do not want to recover, although it does seem like that right now, just that I know no other way of taking control, being assertive or separating me from everything but the ED. I feel like the ED is the thing that makes me different, special, individual. I really like phrasing it as the one thing that makes me individual; it draws me away from what people say about me, of me, or what I should do. The ED gives me some semblance of an ability to separate myself from culture. And yet it does not.

I know I am on the losing end of this deal, but I do not know how to fold out of the game. . . help?

Lessons I Never Learned

A great deal of the research I have read discusses how people with eating disorders and self injury have trouble using words to express emotions and other aspects of life. I believe this to be very true. The ED/SI are honestly how I communicate everything: the need for support, frustration, loneliness, pain, sadness, even happiness. They are also my way of expressing emotions.

One of the things I really hate about recovery is how I often feel like a really stupid person. Unlike the things I never learned was what every five year old learns. How to cry. How to express fear. How to ask for help. How to express opinions. Now, I know why I never learned these lessons, but I always feel like an idiot trying to figure out how to unlearn the lessons I did learn and learn the lessons I missed.

I even have to learn how to be hungry. When you are little, most people learn how to eat and recognize hunger and fullness. You cry when you are hungry or you beg mom for something to eat. You stop eating when you are full. I did not learn those lessons. I do not know what hunger feels like or how to distinguish it from anxiety or nausea. I have not a clue what it means to be feel full. These, as odd as this may seem, are hard lessons to learn. I really doubt my ability to learn them sometimes.

Despite everything I know about psychology, economics, math, therapeutic methods, horses, or anything else, these lessons are baffling. I struggle with these. I need tutoring to figure them out. Everything I am comfortable with cannot help me here and I anticipate this class to continue for years and years.

One step at a time. . .

and you shall climb mountains. Up to 670 calories today. I am so very scared of that number and I feel so very guilty about the number. Maybe I should try to stop focusing on the calories. I think I would feel really very, um, un-me without the number of calories. I am afraid to try and stop the calorie counting, but I do not really know why I developed the behavior and why I find it so tantalizing.

Today was crazy and I really do not know what else to say about it. I am not comfortable with a new development; I had hoped anything beyond some struggles would be unnecessary in the situation. And despite the opportunity I had to be emotionally honest, I did not. I still kinda lied. I was more honest than I wanted to be, but I was not very honest. I am having issues with my boss too. . . what else is new? I am just really stressed and I want to SI because I think that will make the feelings go away. Unfortunately it will, but for only a precious few minutes. Those few minutes are enough to get me back into reality and function again.

Little scare today as well, I had about 270 calories and then I went to work and stood outside for three hours freezing my little batoot off. Cold weather makes you use a lot of calories to keep warm apparently because when I got back to my dorm room I was exhausted and I had to sleep and it took me forever to warm up again, like an hour or so. I was kinda off balance when I walked too.

Also, my T wants me to see somebody else to work on the ED behaviors, which would be fine. BUT, this person requires the insurance card from my family. I want the help with the behaviors so I can spend the time with my T talking about what is underlying the behaviors and time with the N to create a MP I feel comfortable. . .but I do not want my parents to have any indication that I am struggling with the ED again. And this time, while not worse, the ED is much more mentally controlling. They do not need to know that and I think I am hurt by them knowing.

Yay for modified stream of consciousness posts. . .

Good days and bad days

I just ate dinner and made it all the way to 633.5 calories today. I met my goal of 600 and I am proud of myself for that. I am anxious and physically feel very, very FAT right now. I know 633.5 calories is NOT going to make me obese, but it seemed like so much food. I do not see how I could not be gaining loads and loads of weight right now. I know I am not, but my mind seems to think I am.

The ED is so great about making good days and bad days. I guess I expect a lot of those as a travel along this road. I expect some days to be really, really difficult and trying. And some might even seem easy, relatively of course, but easy. I mean, if I felt like I do right now about the purging in two days it could very well lead to a severe purge. But I am handling it right now. What makes the difference? How do I learn to create good days for myself? I certainly do not want to wait on such things to arrive; rather, I want to make good days come. Why does my mood depend so often on other people's perceptions of me or the number of calories I eat? What makes me believe the things I do about beauty, happiness, control, and excellence? How do I change those beliefs?

Distorted Perceptions

One of the amazingly powerful effects of EDs is the extent to which the ED can distort our realities, distort our perception of reality. (Does any other reality exist?) My sight, screwed up! My conception of nutrition, lost! My idea of happiness, control, perfection, excellence, anxiety, depression, all foreign to those without EDs! Most of all, the actual sensations of my body have been distorted by the anorexia. I bet you do not feel your body actually expand every time you eat a calorie. I do, my body is not, but I feel it. I feel it, as much as you feel the shirt you wear. Do you even see bony hands as I sit here an starve? Nope, but I see thin, beautiful hands as real as you see the screen in front of you. Really, my hands look normal, but as long as I am hungry, I see the beauty of bones. DO YOU EVEN SEE A CONNECTION BETWEEN BEAUTY AND BONES????

It is frustrating to have such distorted conceptions in my mind, but more so, it is petrifying. I know my perceptions are not anywhere close to reality, but I do know they are real to me. And I do not know HOW to move beyond this thing. The thing is within me; how do I escape that??

Maybe I am going somewhere again. . .

For the one of you who reads this, maybe my journey has started again. I have been going through a rough patch and eating still freaks me out and the whole "hallucination" thing is still there, but I know I need to recover. I know I cannot control this ED if I give it a step in the door. So, I ate 581 calories today, and as anxiety provoking and as fat as I feel right now, I am sticking it out. NO PURGING!!

I meet with the N again tomorrow and that might be weird; I know I will not want to be honest with her, at all. I am feeling really guilty because I have slipped SO badly recently (which makes me want to slip more) and I just want to hide away under a rock so I do not have to face anybody. I feel a lot like a failure. Also, I made an emergency appointment with the T on Friday; I think I really need to see her. I am scared. At the root of a lot of me is fear--of losing control, of being crazy, of dying, of failing, of being hurt, of not being loved, of {fill in with whatever}. Gotta deal with that. I also want to discuss the possibility of meds and the possible benefits of IOP/Resi.

What a long journey this is indeed. . . bumpy too!

Damn the voice in my head!

I hate her, the girl in my head. But I still listen to her. . . I even know before she is going to come calling and yet, I still listen to her. What an obedient servant I can be! I knew she would hurt me if I tried to eat more than she said I could. But I did not listen and she, of course, acted upon her threat. God, she did hurt me and I wish I knew how to live without her. But I do not. . . ::cry:: I am such a failure at living with her, but I cannot abandon the promise she holds. Utter control over me, purity, thinness, perfection. But I have to play her game to get there.

So, what am I freaking out about? 545 calories, 145 of which I was told not to eat and 100 of which are negative calories (it takes more energy to digest than they provide). I knew the minute I tried to defy her she would make me pay. Now my throat hurts, my stomach hurts, and I have teeth marks on my hand. I was utterly unaware how much power she really was exerting over me until I tried to defy her. The 145 calories made me SO afraid of gaining weight. I could literally feel the obesity setting in, my waistline expanding. Yay for delusional ED thoughts and hallucinations. I knew I was not going to gain weight but the fear was overwhelming. I had to stop myself from digesting that food. I need help, damn it. I need help. I just need to figure out how to get it. . . *sigh*

I know if I keep this eating pattern up, I will not be able to event this summer. I know I will not be passing classes and I know I will really hurt myself. But I do not feel like I know how to stop. And that scares me.

A odd moment to feel proud. . .

Just to make sure I understand how crazy and conflicted I am, I am both excited and disappointed that I ate only 495 calories today. I am really excited because that is not many and if I can do that I will lose weight. I will become perfect and pure and ME. All the fat will melt away, eventually. I am also really excited because after my shower, where I was up to 180 calories I was determined not to eat anything. But I made myself eat and that is good! I was ready to let the day go on 180 calories and hope I did not black out before bed; I was feeling really dizzy and weak and my eyes were a little bit off. At the same time as this conflicted excitement, I was disappointed for the opposite reasons. How weak am I that I have to eat 495 calories a day. All I did today was sleep and sit around. If I cannot get off my fat ass and exercise, then why the hell should I be allowed to get up off it an eat??? To boot, I am really disappointed because I have eaten only 495. I am supposed to eat 1800. Look, I am failing at everything. I cannot eat and I cannot not eat!

Why am I proud and ashamed? Disappointed and excited? A failure and a success? Where is my mind?

I would rather sleep than eat!

Okay, for those of you who know me, this will come a quite a surprise. It scared me at first, but I am okay with the idea now. But, I would rather sleep than have to eat. I hate sleep. But I am more afraid of food, of weight, of calories, of imperfection, than I hate sleep. Of course, four days with less than 900 calories will make anybody tired. It will make you cold too, but that is off topic. So, I did something and then I napped so I could have enough energy to do something else. Lovely, right?

Honestly, at the very heart of it, I am not happy that I do not want to eat. I would like to be much more normal and not have to fight to eat. Trust me, the 110 calories from the Pria bar today was scarier than Dr. B. calling me a moral savage. The 50 calories from the rice cake, absolutely petrifying. Eating should not be this hard! Eating should feel free, not out of control, but free. But I do not want to be as fat as I am right now or as fat as I have been in the past. I want to be thin. I want to have hipbones, almost as much as I want my horse here right now. The hipbones are achievable, the horse, not so much.

Maybe I do not want to recover. Somewhere deep down I might hate the idea of recovery. Actually, it is not that deep down, I just refuse to give it up. I do not know why the ED has taken such a sudden downturn and I have become so much sicker. I know I have to pretend this is going to work. I have to pretend I can and will recover. I have to pretend that I might not die this way. I have to pretend I love me and trust me and want to take care of me. Because in the depths of depression I find myself in, I am acting all the time anyways, why not when it counts?

The girl inside my mind. . .

Allow me to introduce myself. My name, or as I am called by so called "doctors", is Anorexia. Anorexia Nervosa is my full name, but you may call me Ana. Hopefully we can become great partners. In the coming time, I will invest a lot of time in you, and I expect the same from you.

In the past, you have heard all of your teachers and parents talk about you. You are "so mature", "intelligent", "14 going on 45", and you possess "so much potential". Where has that gotten you, may I ask? Absolutely no where! You are not perfect, you do not try hard enough, further more you waste your time on thinking and talking with friends and drawing! Such acts of indulgence shall not be allowed in the future.

Your friends do not understand you. They are not truthful. In the past, when the insecurity has quietly gnawed away at your mind, and you asked them, "Do I look.... fat?" and they answered "Oh no, of course not" you knew they were lying! Only I tell the truth. Your parents, let's not even go there! You know that they love you, and care for you, but part of that is just that they are your parents and are obligated to do so. I shall tell you a secret now: deep down inside themselves, they are disappointed with you. Their daughter, the one with so much potential, has turned into a fat, lazy, and undeserving girl.

But I am about to change all that.

I expect a lot from you. You are not allowed to eat much. It will start slowly: decreasing of fat intake, reading the nutrition labels, cutting out junk food, fried food, etc. For a while, the exercise will be simple: some running, perhaps some crunches and some sit ups. Nothing too serious. Perhaps drop a few pounds, take a little off of that fat tub of a stomach. But it won't be long before I tell you that it isn't good enough.


I will expect you to drop your calorie intake and up your exercise. I will push you to the limit. You must take it because you cannot defy me! I am beginning to imbed myself into you. Pretty soon, I am with you always. I am there when you wake up in the morning and run to the scale. The numbers become both friend and enemy, and the frenzied thoughts pray for them to be lower than yesterday, last night, etc. You look into the mirror with dismay. You prod and poke at the fat that is there, and smile when you come across bone. I am there when you figure out the plan for the day: 400 calories, 2 hours exercise. I am the one figuring this out, because by now my thoughts and your thoughts are blurred together as one.


I follow you throughout the day. In school, when your mind wanders I give you something to think about. Recount the calories for the day. It's too much. I fill your mind with thoughts of food, weight, calories, and things that are safe to think about. Because now, I am already inside of you. I am in your head, your heart, and your soul. The hunger pains you pretend not to feel is me, inside of you.

Pretty soon I am telling you not only what to do with food, but what to do ALL of the time. Smile and nod. Present yourself well. Suck in that fat stomach, dammit! God, you are such a fat cow!!!! When mealtimes come around I tell you what to do. I make a plate of lettuce seem like a feast fit for a king. Push the food around. Make it look like you've eaten something. No piece of anything...if you eat, all the control will be broken...do you WANT that??? To revert back to the fat COW you once were??? I force you to stare at magazine models. Those perfect skinned, white teethed, waifish models of perfection staring out at you from those glossy pages. I make you realize that you could never be them. You will always be fat and never will you be as beautiful as they are. When you look in the mirror, I will distort the image. I will show you obesity and hideousness. I will show you a sumo wrestler where in reality there is a starving child. But you must not know this, because if you knew the truth, you might start to eat again and our relationship would come crashing down.

Sometimes you will rebel. Hopefully not often though. You will recognize the small rebellious fiber left in your body and will venture down to the dark kitchen. The cupboard door will slowly open, creaking softly. Your eyes will move over the food that I have kept at a safe distance from you. You will find your hands reaching out, lethargically, like a nightmare, through the darkness to the box of crackers. You shove them in, mechanically, not really tasting but simply relishing in the fact that you are going against me. You reach for another box, then another, then another. Your stomach will become bloated and grotesque, but you will not stop yet. And all the time I am screaming at you to stop, you fat cow, you really have no self control, you are going to get fat.

When it is over you will cling to me again, ask me for advice because you really do not want to get fat. You broke a cardinal rule and ate, and now you want me back. I'll force you into the bathroom, onto your knees, staring into the void of the toilet bowl. Your fingers will be inserted into your throat, and, not without a great deal of pain, your food binge will come up. Over and over this is to be repeated, until you spit up blood and water and you know it is all gone. When you stand up, you will feel dizzy. Don't pass out. Stand up right now. You fat cow you deserve to be in pain!

Maybe the choice of getting rid of the guilt is different. Maybe I chose to make you take laxatives, where you sit on the toilet until the wee hours of the morning, feeling your insides cringe. Or perhaps I just make you hurt yourself, bang your head into the wall until you receive a throbbing headache. Cutting is also effective. I want you to see your blood, to see it fall down your arm, and in that split second you will realize you deserve whatever pain I give you. You are depressed, obsessed, in pain, hurting, reaching out but no one will listen? Who cares?!?!! You are deserving; you brought this upon yourself.

Oh, is this harsh? Do you not want this to happen to you? Am I unfair? I do things that will help you. I make it possible for you to stop thinking of emotions that cause you stress. Thoughts of anger, sadness, desperation, and loneliness can cease because I take them away and fill your head with the methodic calorie counting. I take away your struggle to fit in with kids your age, the struggle of trying to please everyone as well. Because now, I am your only friend, and I am the only one you need to please.

I have a weak spot. But we must not tell anyone. If you decide to fight back, to reach out to someone and tell them about how I make you live, all hell will break loose. No one must find out, no one can crack this shell that I have covered you with. I have created you, this thin, perfect, achieving child. You are mine and mine alone. Without me, you are nothing. So do not fight back. When others comment, ignore them. Take it into stride, forget about them, forget about everyone that tries to take me away. I am your greatest asset, and I intend to keep it that way.

Sincerely: Ana

Author Unknown

Obstinate Anorexia

I have really been struggling with restriction--I have eaten a grand total of 2200 calories in the past three days. Exactly! And I talked with R. today and she really pointed out some good things that I have been doing, talking to Dr. B., being honest with my T, the like. Honestly, though, the anorexia is screaming that this is my life and I want to be thin, and I will be damn it! I know that is the most unhealthy thought pattern, but I am not sure I am ready to give up ana. Frankly, I like the control she gives me; although, I hate the control she takes a way. This is about control and willpower, discipline and excellence for me. And I want that stuff SO much. I hate the fact that I am almost always cold from the ED and the fact that I am exhausted. I hate the fact that my heart is arrhythmic because of the fluctuations in sugar in my system. And I have a love/hate relationship with the freaking out about 10 calories. There is a reason I sit here and drink water, not Propel. . . 10 calories, lovely. I am either crazy or one very motivated and disciplined person. Maybe both?

I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO SCARED IN MY LIFE

That is really all I have to say, the essence of this chatter. I am petrified. I am afraid I will never recover; I am terrified I will die this way; I am scared that I will never achieve my dreams. The first time the ED/SI were a problem (assuming they went away for awhile) I was not scared that I would never recover, I was scared that I would die before I had the opportunity to recover. This time, though, the ED mindset is ruling my world. Counting calories--new behavior. Severe restriction--new behavior. Petrified of food--new behavior. Cutting my stomach--fucking new behavior. At least I was constant last time; now I am sliding down, down, down and I am afraid the slide never stops.

I kinda want to go to IOP/IP, but I am slightly afraid that (a) it will not work and then I will know I am stuck with the ED/SI , but at the same time I am afraid that IP/IOP (b) will work and then I will not have my good friends, MIA, ANA, and SALLY to hang out with when I need them. Besides, IOP/IP costs a fortune. Even the Resi center I looked up was $400 a day, excluding the money to live in one of their apartments. I am screwed, at least it feels that way.

616 Calories

And I thought I was getting better. . . not so much, it seems. I freaked out at 616 calories today. I ate a grand total of 616 calories today. I am supposed to eat 1800. How crazy am I??? I am scared I will never recover. I am scared this will kill me. I am scared. Petrified. I need help. I do not know how to handle help. . . basically, I am everything and it's opposite. I want to recover, but I do not want to give up the ED/SI because of fear. Honest, I am petrified, more than I was on Snipper flying across a state highway, more than I am at galloping toward a prelim fence. Just scared.

WOW

The MP is not THAT much food. In normal human terms, it is not very much food. I was looking at my MP today and it is not that much food. . . Just a stunning realization, especially as afraid as I was when I first got the MP. WOW

She looked so comfortable in her own skin

I want to learn to feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to not feel anxious when the yoga guy, Rodney, says just lay and relax into yourself. Honest to god, those yoga tapes can be the most triggering aspect of my day. Weird! So much of them rely on my feeling myself and often, I have no feeling of my body. There are times where I do not feel pain or cold. When my body feels like a totally different being from me. It is utter disassociation and quite uncomfortable when you see someone who seems so comfortable in her own skin. I want that.

Moreover, the feeling that my body is not myself does make me want to not eat. But my body is a lot of me and lets me do so many cool things. Why do I hate it so much and why to I insist upon hurting it?

FINALLY

FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLY. . . after two months of a meal plan and years of attempting to give up the ED, I feel like I did the best I could to stick to my MP and feel like I fought hard enough. I did enough. I won. I ate and I did not purge. . . It feels weird, but so very good!

The Designated Crazy One

Everybody has an eating disorder; everybody hurts themselves; everybody struggles to understand and express emotions; everybody has interpersonal difficulties. But some of us are extra special and we get to be crazy. We get to be diagnosed with MD/Os. We also suffer the stigma of being "crazy," "insane," and "disturbed." Today, while I was trying to force myself to eat something, I realized I thing not eating shows how disciplined I am, how in-control I am. Eating, on the other hand, would show I was undisciplined and out of control. During this struggle, I tried to convince myself that other people are not going to see not eating as disciplined. . . BUT THEY ARE.

Society's eating disorder defines people by what they eat. I realize that and have really messed my self up that way. I know that society defines me, my worth, my control, my life by how and what I eat. Controlling what one eats is so valued in society; take note of the hundreds of diet trends, diet books, diet plans. People want to be where I was over break. They want to be able to NOT EAT, to say no, to be in control.

I am something akin unto society's idol. And yet, I am the ostracized and stigmatized one. Interesting indeed! Now the challenge is to realize that I have to convince myself that society is wrong; control and discipline does not come from food.

Routine, Safety, and Importance

I am really, really struggling right now. Well, not right now at this instant, but at this point in my life. A lot of this has to do with being at home (as that I am desperately trying to avoid in the coming summer). One of the biggest things I struggle with is breaking routine, and at home I have routine that is designed around the eating disorder and the self injury. At least at school, the routine is designed around, well, everything else. I get scared every time I start to change the routine at home because of my desperate attempt to show my parents how "well" I must be. They do not know I am struggling with the ED/SI again and I wish to keep it that way. I never want to change my routine or sit down with my coping mechanisms when people and/or my parents are around. I do not want people to know I might be struggling or there might be something "wrong" with me.
Why in god's name do I even think people would notice? I really do not, but if they should, I want to make sure I am f.i.n.e., at least in their eyes. And what would it mean for me to be "wrong"? Well, flat out, "wrong" means I am not perfect. Honestly, I know I cannot be perfect and I can even intellectualize why I do not want to be perfect. . . but I know I want to be perfect, accepted, loved, wanted, maybe even needed. I want to be important.

The Paradox of Scars

These scars and their paradoxical effect will be the death of me yet. Let me explain. I really, really want the scars from the SI. I do not cut so much for the pain or the blood, but for the scars. Right, I am actually in it for the long term benefits. This is not to say the blood and pain do not satisfy other aspects of my psyche, but the scars have been making themselves the primary reason right now.

So what do these scars mean such that I want to have them? Scars tell my story. Recall I am feeling rather voiceless right now, and the scars are telling me and anyone else who should accidentally see them what I am experiencing. How will you know I am hurting if you cannot see my pain? I am not going to use words, so if I want to express the pain of feeling trapped and condemned I have to show you.

Honestly, I do feel trapped right now. I have been doing reading on SI for a paper I was going to write and realizing my hope of recovery is less then stellar. I am in a bad place for recovery and sometimes I can be a little stubborn about the idea. But I am feeling a lot like I cannot recover right now. And all that does is push me further into the behaviors. (And I see myself planning for using ED behaviors tomorrow, but am I doing anything. . . a little I guess).

Why I NEED My Horse

My horse, UP, is the most important aspect of my recovery. Without him, no recovery, no chance. Once again he has proven that to me. For the majority of my winter break home from college, I have been feeling very, very voiceless. My response to feeling voiceless is to try to speak with my body, using the ED and the SI. So, UP decided today would be a good day to teach me about what is really going on with the voiceless-ness. Let me explain. . .

As usual, I let UP out of the pasture and set about brushing him. Then I started to play with him, just like always. Start with groundwork to set the foundation for riding. And then he pays NO attention. He is looking everywhere, has his mind everywhere, but on me. . . Of course, I feel ignored and unimportant, like he does not care. And I was angry; Up is the only "person" I am emotionally honest with and I was just enraged. Every time UP would look away, I smacked him good with the "carrot stick." Guess what? Did not do me a damn bit of good; he got more and more frustrated and paid less and less attention. What was the equivalent of using my body got me nowhere, the communication I wanted to occur, did not.

So, I decided to just move into riding, and then I listened to him. He, the entire time, was telling me that he was interested in what else was going on around him. I decided to let him explore such things. We went and visited the neighbors, looked at the fire, and met the horses. The whole time, I used the words he and I had established. Guess what? HE WAS WONDERFUL. We played in the yard and did dressage, worked on our right lead and I learned about feeling my body again.

My point is that UP is invaluable when it comes to me learning to understand what is going on in my recovery. Without him and his teachings, I am lost into the abyss that is an eating disorder and self injury cavern.