Trust me, I'm a compulsive liar.

Starving. Not hungry. Im fine.  Starving.  Everything's fine.

24 hours.. Nothing looks small enough to eat..
36 hours.. I could eat the whole kitchen in one bite.
52 hours empty...If I eat I'll wake up in Hell. I know it. I can feel it in my bones.

So here I am, possibly growing crazier by the second.. or is my mind getting clearer? How do you tell?
I have had the WORST heart palpitations EVER today.. I felt like someone shot me point-blank with a buck-shot. I sank down on the couch clutching my chest and could feel my heart thudding like a fucking bass drum on drugs. 30 seconds. Felt like a month. I one-hundred-percent though I could possibly have been having a heart attack..The scariest part about it is that I wasn't scared.

I also stared at myself in the mirror and screamed silent attrocities at myself for about 15 minutes until I snapped out of it.  Isn't it great that this is what I have to BLOG about on my DAILY blog about MY LIFE? God,  it makes me sick how fucking pathetic I am.

There is nothing remotely attractive about this illness, about me, or about my life.

So, to end on a happy note.... well, I'll try harder to do that tomorrow.

Heavy Inside

Today would have been fasting day four.. Instead I ate thick, heavy, horrible all-bran cereal while my whole family sat and watched me swallow each bite.  lovely.

This was the second mini-intervention of the week. My father came home today and challenged my claims that I was "totally fine"..He weighed me on our crappy bathroom scale (which I PERSONALLY know is incorrect, but nonetheless).. 96 lbs.  (BULLSHIT I am higher, I know it..the satan-scale says so.)
Weigh-in was followed by the somber eating-of-the-cereal-under-supervision.
My younger (14) sister kindly pointed out that "everybody in this family treats her like a child because she is fucked up in the head"..  TRUE  ....Nice choice of words.

SO, there we have it. The clock is ticking by the minutes and I can still feel the cereal, heavy inside me.
I hate this feeling. I want it to be tomorrow. I want to be 6 days starving. I need to be empty.
I am doing another (AT LEAST) 3 day fast starting tomorrow.. (friday)..
I will be gone and out of the house, I will make myself UNAVAILABLE.
There will be no more of this family-watching-all-bran shit for me. Everybody just needs to focus on their own "stuff" and let me whither. I am 19 and as my youger sister so sweetly put it I am FUCKED IN THE HEAD.

Now we know.. so move on, move along, get on with your lives.
I am perfectly content to stay here, on the yellow brick road, forever.

Typical

Halfway through my second day of fasting right now.. I forced myself to "go out" again today for a walk. Always nerve-racking. I ran into my neighbour on the way home and she just HAD to make some comment about how thin I was looking. I'm NOT looking thin. I feel huge today, even though I am finally getting that hungry burn again.

Sometimes I see thin people and wonder if they are "normal" or not..I have also seen people who clearly have an eating disorder and I want SO badly to run up and hug them and talk to them and be friends. I wonder if they think the same thing.. probably not. They probably think "why is that fat bitch staring at me?"   Funnily enough, I ask myself the same question everytime I look in the mirror.

typical.

Smooth Abuse

Well, today was Canadian Thanksgiving and apparantly everybody was in a foul mood.
I was given a mini-intervention and interrogation, including:

•   "what ARE you going to do with your life"
•      "Do you realize you are ALMOST 20"
•  "Do you think your eating disorder is back?"

These are all useless, rhetorical questions.

(correct answers: (a)starve,(b) yes, (c)never left.)

After a lovely screaming session from the family, I was aked to JOIN them for dinner.

This never happens. It is generally understood that I do not,can not, must not eat with the family.

So, place-mat set. Dinner served. Name called. Obligation carried out. I smiled, trying to put the last hour of screaming behind us all. It was as though the moment the food touched my mouth, my plate was suddenly empty.. Then the cookie plate was empty.. then my glass of sickly acidic orange juice. gone.

The plates and glasses were empty but I was full.

When I am full of food I am full of rage. full of hate. full of writhing nausea. full of shit. anxiety levels rising. panic sets in.  SNAP 

I went upstairs and purged for the next 3 hours. brilliant.

This follows another recent episode of acting out on bulimic tendencies. Disgusting, and unfortunately, the only thing I have in my life to write about. I can't handle dinner, how the hell am I supposed to handle a job? (yet another useless, rhetorical question.)

The interrogation jabs from earlier are still swimming in my mind.. I want to start a clothes line- a brand. I want to make other people feel good about themselves while I wallow in self- deprication. I want to make money. I want to be known for something other than my eating disorder. I would love to work at some swanky store and make friends and go out and have them invite me for coffee "after work".. I could almost live like a REAL person....  you do not deserve these thoughts

Too bad I'm not. Daydream over. Back to reality.

I am fasting again. monday, tuesday, wednesday. I am banishing the beast from this house, I need some peace of mind.. I am not worrying about food for three days. This is a short period of time to fast and will simply calm my shaken body and nerves..

....What a smooth justification for abuse.

From inside THE ED BUBBLE

 Nobody can get close to me.. People who WANT to just end up slamming into the eating disorder bubble that forever surrounds me.. People who don't want to can't even see me through the glass. People who WANT to THINK they are close to me have to settle for pretending.
I push everybody away in a quiet, under-handed fashion that nobody can quite put their finger on.
Nobody walks away thinking I'm mean or rude or obnoxious.. But everybody walks away. The majority of them probably don't even know why.

I know why.. Because I am a selfish, lying, self-absorbed, self-abusive, self-isolating, obsessive, pathetic, hungry, manipulative, manic-depressive robot. I doubt I'm even a PERSON anymore. I am certainly not worthy of the term. I have cheated myself. I cheated the game of life and now I'm stuck in check-mate forever. I can't go anywhere. I am inside my eating disorder box and nobody knows where the lock is, let alone the key. I probably ate it, then purged it.. and flushed it down the toilet, into the ocean. "oops."

I went to the mall today again, after 3pm. BIG mistake. Kids everywhere. People everywhere. Highschool girls staring at me. Or were they? Do I just PERCEIVE these things? Do they think I am normal? Do they think I am sick? Do they care? Do I care?..... who cares.
I stood in line at a store for 10 minutes to buy cigarettes. It felt like DAYS.
I had that strange feeling again that I was growing fatter and fatter every fraction of a second that passed.
Sometimes I really think that I am too far down the rabbit hole...far too far...passed the point of no return..and that was years ago.

I saw too many things today. Too many normal, functionally content people. People my age, working jobs, driving cars, going places, living. People who think real thoughts, in their own sane, healthy brains.
Healthy hearts, healthy blood-pressure.. but they aren't even worried about that.. They are worried about what they are going to DO tonight... who they are going to HANG out with.. What's for DINNER...When they can buy that new PHONE they really want so they can text all their BFFFs and go clubbing on Friday...or Saturday... because they are BUSY Friday doing REAL PEOPLE SHIT.

 I wonder what that's like.

No, actually I don't.
I'm not capable of it.
I can't even imagine what it might taste like.

Let the Games Begin

Today was my breaking of fast day and I almost didn't do it.. I really didn't want to. My anxiety level has been comparable to the tidal wave that sweeps away New York City in that movie, "The Day After Tomorrow", or whatever it was called.

Something happened today for the first time in years. I binged in front of  my family. 2 pieces of pizza and a breadstick. I think that's what I gobbled down in the 2 minutes of mechanical, zombie-minded, delerium. My mother and younger brother (18) started talking about politics after I realized what had just happened.. I could just make out the movement of their lips, key-words like "healthcare"..."Obama"..."Hillary Clinton".. It was as though I was watching them from behind thick, sound proof glass. The nausea hit me like a freight train with no breaks. I hadn't eaten anything in alsmot 5 days, and pizza was evidently not a good first choice. I tried to keep myself from jumping out the window while they finished their conversation.  I then proceeded into the backyard to hide and desperately try to purge into a garbage bag.

Remember the good old days of Sesame Street, the tv show?

 When I was a kid it was "brought to you today by the letter B and the number 4"....

Today's show is brought to you by the word "PATHETIC" and more calories than I can handle.

I am praying for tomorrow. I am going to be waking up feeling bloated, sore and too BIG.

I know that fasting really gets me nowhere slow...Or tubed fast.. I know this, but I crave it like a drug.

I have planned careful restriction tomorrow.. I am going to make an effort to take some basic calories in my coffee with real milk, and spike my blood sugar here and there with some life-saver candies. If I'm feeling up to it, I also planned raw carrots at 4pm. 

This is not what I want to do.. what I want to do is PAY for what Ive done... RIGHT NOW.

I need punishment.. I need to take a box of laxatives and regret it all week.. I need to be starving so bad that my skin smells from disintegration.. I need to be bent over the toilet getting whatever is left in me out.

But I'm not.

I am making a conscious effort here to steer my ed behaviours in a "better" direction.

I will never BE better.. I will never BE fixed.. I will certainly never be recovered..

However, I can do my best to make my daily life more managable.. hopefully.

I am fighting my trigger response to stress which says to me in BIG RED BLINKING LIGHTS:

You are eating nothing for the next 4 days and your taking 20 laxatives tonight and you are going to lay in bed dehydrated and feel like shit all day tomorrow you sick fucking bitch and then sabbotage your body with crap and fast some more..

Instead I am going to plaster a fake smile on, drink coffee with milk, cringe and crunch a couple candies into my brittle teeth, and get the hell out of dodge.. well.. at least get out of the house for a few hours.

Great plan.

Let the games begin...

PS: House scale says 96.5 lbs. Mall scale still has me at almost 7lbs higher.

       Both scaled are fucked. I officially trust neither. I am not weighing again until I get a new scale..

       Hopefully that is not another promise I can't keep.

Mandatory Meeting

In the hill of my mind I think I just slipped. I slipped and the grass is wet..the faster I slide the harder it is stop.. there is nothing to hold onto. Im sliding down the long hill into a new psychological LOW point.

Well, tonight brings my four-day fast to an end. I have, like many times before, succesfully gone four days with no food. Do I get a gold star or something now? NO I FUCKING DONT.
Is this the only shit that I am good at?! and- newsflash!- I'm NOT EVEN GOOD AT IT. The piece of shit fucking scale at the mall today printed out a little ticket thats said: YOUR WEIGHT: 101.2

REALLY!? I was 102.. FOUR fucking days ago.. and I have lost a fucking fraction of a pound. This is a load of bullshit. Pardon my french, I usually reserve this type of language for shitty situations.. OH WAIT- this IS a shitty situation. I just slogged down 6 ducolax.  take that bitch.

I am currently laying on my bed.. pausing to do sit-ups and then typing more onto this post.
Tomorrow I was going to break the fast with lettuce, vinegar and 4 carrots.
Well NEW PLAN. I am going to have a 6 lifesaver allowance tomorrow. (Those little round, tasty candies.. 10 cals/piece)  I am going to wake up early, walk to mall once again, and weigh myself on the satan-scale before I even begin to unwrap one of those sweet things that I don't deserve anyway.
I'm too big. Im triple digits and I CAN'T handle it. I MUST be in the 90's by Thursday. That is FINAL.

No arguments allowed.

Polls closed. Votes Counted.

Wars waged and tears cried.

must attend

 mandatory meeting with: NINETIES.

THIS THURSDAY. 

Day 3 night time..

Day three of fasting is at a close.. I tanned today again and imagined that the acrylic beneath me was cracking from my weight. I kept reaching down to feel my hip bones, making sure I hadn't suddenly expanded to whale-size.  Sometimes when I am laying in bed, I can FEEL in my mind that I am growing bigger and bigger, until I am 800 pounds.. and then I imagine myself shrinking from that until I am nothing but a sliver of light..eventually dissapearing. It makes me realize how incredibly deep my eating disorder has ingrained itself into my brain.  Scary really, but at the same time comforting, being constantly reminded that this is my purpose.. this is what I'm meant to do. I know its all a lie, but for the few minutes each day that I beleive it, I feel like I really am accomplishing something.
I also discovered today that I am significantly shorter than my medical records state. I am actually only 5'5 (and a half.. but I refuse to count that).  My medical records have me pegged at 5'7! What an outrage.
I have now been betrayed by the scale this week, and deceived by the tape measure as well.. The only thing I can TRUST is hunger. Hunger is concrete. Hunger is tangible. Hunger never lets me down.  I will weigh in tomorrow on the most-accurate-scale-in-the-world (supposedly, but certainly more accurate than mine). I have to walk all the way to the mall again, but I am determined to see the 80's in the next three weeks. I have to. There is no other option right now except for a complete mental breakdown. I know I will feel safe there for now. 

"Oh I'm hungry, it's just self-abuse"

Day two fasting is at a close for me.. It is 9:30 pm. I don't feel hungry or jittery or anything right now.. I am hoping tomorrow I can wake up and FEEL something.. FEEL the hunger, FEEL the dizziness...We do so much in this world just trying to feel.. whenever I eat I feel nothing.. I could eat a cracker or I could eat a cheeseburger..I could keep going and going and still- feel nothing. It is starting to get like that with starving.. Retriction isn't enough, I am starving harder and harder for longer periods of time in an attempt to feel it. I want to feel sick and I want to feel empty..I want to feel the burn, the drug of empty euphoria..
This is what happens when I have binged in the past as well.. I start off with something small, and I don't feel any change, I don't feel anything amazing happening because I'm eating.. so I eat more and more and more..and I still can't feel it in my mind. I still FEEL like a vast emptyness.. more and more food. Nothing changes. Then the dark, slimy guilt slowly washes over me until I am neaseous, sweating, panicking.
What is it we are trying to so tangibly feel? what is it that we want? what is this feeling that we somehow think we can get from "one more cookie" or "one more day of fasting"... We can never find it. There is something inherently wrong with me, and the only thing I can do to feel lifted above it is to starve and wither.
My hair is falling out, my nails are soft and flimsy, my immune system sucks..I cough up bile and am constantly having stomach pains of one type or another.. yet when I am starving I feel like I am wearing a suit of armour.. I can deflect blows from anything. My mind tells me all day what a piece of shit, disgusting pathetic nothing I am.. and I take it! I take it with stride!
I feel empowered by self-abuse.

Day Two PM. the jitters

I have cleaned obsessively today and other than that done NOTHING. I have spent hours sitting here on my ed community sites. I couldnt find the energy or confidence to get myself to the dollar-a-weigh scale.. I MUST make the trip tomorrow.. I have to do it.
I have had about 9 cups of coffee and an equal ammount of cigarettes so far.. I am definitely feeling the jitters right now, which keeps me calm in some strange way. I know that if I eat, my starving perfect world with come crashing down and I'll be shoved rudely into reality and I know that I CANNOT handle that..
So, here I am at 6 pm.. 48 hours of nothing but coffee and nicotine. and 48 more hours to go until I break back into another period of anxious restriction. It would be so much easier if I could just fast forever..I wouldnt have to worry about calories and planning. I know that at some point it will come to that. At some point I will just NOT break the fast and end up like 30 years old in a coma or something.. I hate thinking that way, but I really can't see any other way out of  this ed-bubble that I am trapped in. I feel like we are an interchangable being- my eating disorder and I. This is all I am.
Oh well, enough whining... I am going to make another cup of coffee and smoke another cigarette and try not to think too hard.

This is WAR

This shit sucks. I am caught up in a whirlwind with my own head right now. I just want to get on with this next week, be a clean slate. Im really thankful that Im on the second day of a fast because that is the only thing tying me down to the real world. I can't help but keep revisiting this whole messed up scale situation... I really want to get to the mall and weigh in on the accurate one-dollar-per-weigh scale. GOD it is just eating me alive to think that I could be four pounds heavier than I thought I was. I have to go with this new higher number and defeat it. I am defeating it this week.
                              102, 100, 98, 96, 94, 92 , 90.
This is my plan for the next 3 weeks. I know I would feel much safer under 90 right now, but I don't want to start stirring shit up around me either.  I AM DEFINITELY NOT FEELING FUCKING SAFE AT 102.
This is a bunch of bullshit! I was content thinking I was 98 and IM NOT. Pardon the outburst, but I am really pissed at myself for beleiving my stupid piece-of-shit scale. 

Ill have today and sunday to get it to 100.. then ill do 4 lbs/week for 2 weeks which will have me at 92.. and then the third week will be a minimun loss of 2 lbs to get to 90.

Generally speaking I am content with the self-abuse of starving and not overly concerned about the numbers on a daily basis.. BUT, now I have been tricked. I have been deceived.. and I am in fighting mode to PROVE to all the scales in the world.. and my own head.. that I can be safely back in the double digits, and teetering on the 80's within the next 3 weeks.

I know this will not make me happy, but it will make me feel much safer and cut down a lot of anxiety for the time being. so there.

DAY two- mid day post

Well I just took some ativan for fun.. and am on my second mug of coffee. I am going to straighten my hair, and help paint the deck with ""the family"". How exhillerating.
Apparantly my tanning session yesterday and the day before caught up with me.. my back and bum are red and sore. I don't feel sane enough to pull myself together and walk all the way to the mall to weigh in on my new one-dolar-per-weigh scale that I found there.. I might go later, but more likely tomorrow.
All the highschool kids will be cruising everywhere today because its Saturday, and I hate being out in public anyways, let alone out in public bumping into happy-highschool-teenage-girls.
My menthol cigarettes seem to be soothing my sore throat lol.. sounds terrible but it actually helped, at least for now!   ...The burning hunger that I woke up with has faded away. Hopefully I'll feel something soon, I always get anxious when the hungry feeling fades away even though I know it will come back with avengance soon enough. I am excited to go to sleep tonight because it's day two, and you always feel profficiently weak by night fall. Day three mornings suck, but hopefully I will start to feel the euphoric hunger buzz after the morning nausea tomorrow..  yay!

Alright, time to straighten hair and paint the deck. I actually have something to DO today.. wow!

Day two: AM

Day two of the fast.. I woke up hungry. That never happens! I usually wake up empty, but not necessarily feeling that low-down burn in my tummy...soo satisfying. I am off to the kitchen to make myself a HUGE mug of coffee, with knock-off splenda sweetener and 2tbs milk.  My stupid throat is still incredibly swollen and painful- also accompanied by coughs every 30 seconds. Oh well, its a welcome distraction.

Feel-like-shit-orexic

Well suddenly my throat is so sore that I can barely swallow without wincing. I couldn't find any useful drugs to take for this sort of thing.. I looked for anti-biotics or cough syrup. I can't shove oragel that far down my throat to numb it out.    Insomnia strikes again! flipping fantastic. another night of sleepless obsessing and not being able to turn my effing mind off. I wish I could post an eviction notice on the door of the-voice-in-my-head. I would say GET THE FUCK OUT you miserable bitch.  Unfortunately that plan would fail, because the miserable bitch is me.

Late night madness

I just came back in from a cigarette out on the deck. I can see the Lions Gate bridge and the ocean from there. It is so gorgeous, but my vision is clouded with plans for tomorrow. I am always planning! Listing, planning, counting.. what is next? what the fuck do you think is next you have no future  
Tomorrow I am going to face the anxiety of the "outside world" and walk to the mall to tan. Vitamin D and fake sunshine will serve me well.. not to mention that I HAVE to go to the GNC at the mall to use the one-dollar-weigh-in scale again.  I am fasting until the 5th of October, tomorrow is day 2.
I love day twos. Day twos are great. You wake up light-headed, and tingly. Day three's and four's are never as fun as day two's.  Day three usually brings morning sickness for me, after I slurp down my acidic coffee on my weak insides they react angrily and I end up slung over the toilet involuntarily purging my morning cup-a-joe.
bummer. It always seems to happen on day threes or fours. However, after I recover from the morning sickness I feel an intense hunger high that you only get after several days of nothing... which makes it all sickly worth it.

Ah there I go again, day dreaming about the empty days ahead.. How pathetic. Most people my age are excited to be going out with their friends to the club or the bar. I'm excited to be throwing up my coffee after not eating for 3 days. oh joy.. what a life.

Intro and the ugly scale breakup

Hello world and eating disorder community..

My name is constant..
I have an eating disorder, or should I say, I AM an eating disorder.. that would probably be more accurate.
I was diagnosed (GP) with Anorexia 6 years ago. Now that I am an "adult", I have refused all treatments for the past 2.5 years and spend every waking moment consumed with my own self-deprication and obsession.

So, I have a lot of time on my hands. This is all I do, this is all I am or will ever be. This is dying life with my eating disorder, my constant companion.

So here I am, at the beginning of a new month and the end of the same day I've been living for the better part of my life. I am fasting until October 5th right now. I think I drank about 3 pots-worth of coffee today, each entree of coffee included a side dish of cigarettes.. or as I affectionately like to call them "starving sticks".
I made a GUT WRENCHING discovery at the local general nutrition store today.. I paid one dollar to use their "most accurate scale in the world" scale and it printed me off a little ticket scoring my weight at 102 pounds!
 you fucking fatass bitch This is FOUR pounds heavier than my at-home scale says. So, I am now offically bound by blood to walk to the mall everyday and pay one dollar to weigh myself on this scale. I will NOT take my at-home scale for granted anymore.

It has been telling me I am 98 pounds for the past week and it is obviously a lying son of a bitch. I am breaking up with it immediately.  hook, line, sinker. done

welcome to my world, I will be posting everyday so stay tuned for more extremely exciting stories from the dreamland of starving that I have built around myself..