Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Maybe it's because the alternative to this is studying for exams, but I find myself posting daily and more often than that. But I find myself being more and more contemplative lately. Sometimes I wonder if it is all worth it. This life that I've built up for myself, this swirling mess of papers and professors and academic things that eventually go nowhere and burn themselves out, this outwardly ambitious and hard working and forward thinking life that is taking the piss out of me and making me want to give it all up. I'll take a quiet life, a handshake with carbon monoxide.
But let no one think I gave in. So I keep going and so the cuts keep cropping up as I find it harder and harder to cope. I'm starting to get a bit paranoid now because the harder I have the work, the more tired I get, the more times I slip up and someone gets a wee bit too close to finding out the truth than I'm comfortable with. I'd like people to always think of me as this happy, hard working girl who knows what she wants and is doing whatever she can to get there. And any deviation from that displeases me.
Today I was having a chat with a flatmate about fashion week. I ended up on a rant not dissimilar from a post I did a few days ago about how much I hate plus size models and what size I think women should be. I ended up in a rather angry and indignant state saying that any clothes above size 14 should be banned and replaced with potato sacks. So that if you are that fat you will be forced to wear a potato sack. Then nobody would want to be that fat and lose weight. The way he looked at me, I could tell I had taken it a bit far and the edge in my voice and coupled with my weight loss, I could tell me was worried. He's said before that he will hold me at knife point and force me to eat if I get down to 40kg. My automatic response to that was "ha, I wish!" and he gave me that look then as well. I think he's starting to worry that there is more behind this than wanting to lose a few pounds.
I think that on some level I like being depressed and all that. Which sounds horrendously counterintuitive because being depressed surely by definition mean I can't like it? I'm sort of saying to the world, fuck you for treating me like shit, now I'm going to treat myself like shit and die and then you'll all be sorry!
I feel like depriving myself of food is like another form of self harm. Well, this form has a rather desired side effect of losing weight but at times I'm not sure if the primary goal is to lose weight or is to feel the pain.
I read this quote online that said "refuse to slip, refuse to fall, refuse to feel anything at all, can't be weak, can't stand still, watch your back coz no one else will" and that totally just sums up my constant state of being. Yeah I get sick of it and yeah sometimes I wish I could be capable of being happy in a loving, happy relationship and happy with my lot in life. But I've worked myself into a place where I can't stop being in a constant state of holding on and there is no other option but to keep going like this or die. Which is why sometimes death is such an appealing option.
Monday, August 29, 2011
People inevitably see the world in different ways. Our perception is shaped by the society in which we live and the dominant culture as well as the way we were brought up and what we were exposed to. And I've always believed that there is no such thing as a common reality. We all exist in our own realities and when it comes to living together, those realities overlap. But I have never been able to fully appreciate someone else's reality. This is why I don't really understand it when somebody tells me I look thin.
I know that the people who tell me are my friends and colleagues and some of them are definitely people who I would trust to never, ever lie to me and to always do what I think is best for me. These are people whose opinion I greatly value when it comes to any other aspect of life and I suppose those are aspects of my reality that overlap with theirs. It seems hugely hypocritical of me to love and value these opinions so much and suddenly change my mind about them when they talk about my weight.
I don't think I'm so far gone to actually think that they might lie to me on purpose in some act of sabotage. When it comes to some people, I simply don't understand what they are saying to me. Like when flatmates say that they've never seen me look so thin. That comment doesn't even compute because I know I've gained weight and from the way my clothes fit, I know I'm bigger. It just confuses me and I'm left with a real uneasy feeling. The more they say it, the more I feel like they might hinder my weight loss attempts.
When it comes to my bosses, like Prof CNM telling me I look thin, I believe it, but in the sort of way where I feel like I'm humouring them along. Like when an elderly demented lady tells me that strange beings visited her in the night, I can totally believe that that is exactly what she thinks is true, but at the same time, I know that it isn't true because she's demented. That is not the say that I think my bosses are demented old ladies, but just that we obviously have completely different views of weight. I feel like I could lose at least another 10kg, whereas they feel that I'm thin enough for them to be concerned.
In a strange way, when it comes to my weight, the people who care about me the most matter the least. They are biased, they want me to be fit and healthy and can't look at my weight objectively because they know I'm not eating as much as I should. Strangers who don't know me can only judge me by my weight because they don't know me. For all they know, I could be somebody who eats like a pig but never gains weight. So those are the more accurate opinions. Until I have a complete stranger tell me I'm thin, I will take all other comments with a very large grain of salt.
I should say from the very start of this post that it is almost midnight. I have been studying for omgosh, 6 hours now and when I say study, I mean, reading and making notes while chatting online. Spent hours talking to an old friend who I've not spoken to for a long time now. I'm tired and probably barely coherent but something happened earlier tonight that I want to share.
I was sitting around with my flatmates, just chatting when the topic switched to weight. One of my male flatmates is trying to lose a bit of weight. And I started talking about how depressed I was about all the weight I had gained (which is a whole lot!). And two of my flatmates piped up about how thin I looked. I have 4 flatmates. 3 guys and a girl. One of the guys is trying to lose weight. The girl is one of my best friends but unfortunately we sort of compound each others actions. So this can be weight gain, or going to the gym, or studying or shopping, but we just add to each other and it's not always good. The two that piped up are the two remaining guys. AC is one, who is thin as half a rake, and the other is a total gym buff and has muscles on his muscles.
They had been living at the flat while I had been away for a long time and said that when they saw me, they were shocked by how thin I'd become. Which was hilarious to me because I'd actually gained 3kg from the last time they saw me. Yet I could see it in their faces, they were genuinely surprised and Mike, the gym buff actually shouted at me as I was getting out of the car "come in here and drink some oil!" Obviously I think they have some sort of shared delusion. They seem to think I've lost even more weight when I'd gone and gained weight. I can't wait to lose more weight and see what they think of that!
But someone indirectly called me fat today. I was not eating lunch and he said to me "you're not that bad" and I took that as "you're not a complete fat whale but partially". So yeah, even more motivation to lose the weight. I don't know if being around people who constantly think I'm thin is good. I mean, great ego boost but it makes me lose perspective. I get to feeling pretty damn thin, then I look in the mirror and it's like, oh, I'm still fat. All their comments make me feel like I've somehow magically dropped a tonne of weight.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
What nourishes me, destroys me.
And isn't that just true in all aspects of life. It's what I feel about food, it's how I feel about cutting, it's how I feel about work. It's a rather self destructive cycle but I wouldn't have it any other way. I just realised that I left my cutting blades at home so I'm sitting in my room, itching to do something but I can't. It's hard to get into fasting again. I'm trying to ease myself into it by eating 800cal a day this week then having 5 days liquid fast next week.
Hoping to drop some weight again finally, it's been a long time since I saw the scales go down.
As I draw ever closer to my qualification exams the nerves are beginning to set it and traditionally, this has been a time of year where I have eaten compulsively and gained lots of weight, but I'm under pressure but I'd love to drop 10kg by the summer. I'll have to see how well I do. Maybe if I distract myself with enough study, I'll forget to eat, or at least that's what I'm hoping for.
I want to be seriously thin when I next see the professor. I am already pessimistic about whether this will happen or not, but the least I can do is try. I will write myself a letter tonight, which I will read each time I get the urge to eat compulsively and if it isn't too personal, I will post it on here.
Wish me luck!
I suppose we must all have our vices. Until recently I truly believed that it was possible to get rid of an addiction. I really clearly remember going to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting as part of an assignment and hearing almost everyone who spoke say that they were sober for an amazingly long time and yet still considered themselves an addict. That was something that was totally integral to the AA doctrine and I remember hating it. I thought it was so pessimistic and that if someone had been sober for 17 years, then surely they were no longer an addict.
But now I realise I was being rather ignorant. And I am an addict and now I'm not sure if I will ever kick the habit of cutting. I had stopped for well over a year and for a long time, I never even really thought about doing it. Even so, I kept all my stuff. Even when I wasn't cutting I was very aware of the stash of surgical blades I'd both bought and collected, I knew exactly where the sharpest scissors in the house were, I couldn't bring myself to throw out the bottle of betadine, sure that I would need to use it at some point for something else. Now I'm not sure if I ever believed it, was I really so well into remission that I thought I wouldn't cut again, or was I so good at fooling everyone that I'd fooled myself as well?
Anyway, whatever the answer might be, it doesn't really matter now. I like to think that deep in my heart I always knew I'd go back, that way, I had intentionally stopped to fool people and somehow it doesn't feel quite so much like letting them down, more like I'm hiding it to not hurt them.
I don't feel like a failure for going back, it's only a relief, a strange sort of relief that happens deep down but somewhere, more superficially, I'm gripped by some anxiety as to how to hide the newly formed cut from which little curls of red are blossoming. But I'm only hiding it to stop other people freaking out. If the world was perfect, I could walk out covered in self inflicted cuts and nobody would panic.
I want people to see them. I don't want people to panic, or judge or pity me, I just want them to see. I think this is because I'm recognising that I am depressed and maybe anorexic, and that it is something that hurts and that makes me suffer a great amount of the time. But I feel so fake when I walk into work and see people who are clearly ill and suffering, I feel like I have no claim on that. Yet at the same time I know I do, so I want people to see, not because I want any help or compassion or anything, just recognition that yeah, maybe life is tough for me too.
Is that attention seeking? Maybe. But I certainly don't cut to get attention. I go to great lengths to hide it from people because I know that nobody will ever react but just "seeing" and not doing something about it. So I must hide them and it almost becomes a game wrought with emotion and strategy. In the same way that not eating is isolating, having cuts can be isolating too. I can never go to the beach, or to play any sports when the cuts are on my arm. I must say, that compared to not eating, having cuts is easier to forget about, and easier to accidentally reveal, which I've only done once, and I'm not sure if she noticed.
So why do I cut? I've posted on this a long time ago. And the relief is just the same. The only thing that has ever kissed my flesh is the cold, sharp sting of a blade. And it is a kiss, I imagine it brings the same warmth and tingling as any man could. And then a string of little red pearls pop up, cheerful as always, before coalescing and filling the narrow gap that has opened up between two ends of skin. It brings me joy to look at it and think, I created that thing of beauty.
I've talked about the ophthalmology department many, many times before. In a strange way they are slowly becoming the family that I never had but probably always needed. They are the people who must never find out. Because I would be in such trouble. Which can make life hard because I see them more and more now. Still, it's been many years now and I have confidence in myself. It's funny that the people I hold in highest regard are probably the last people who would suspect I do such a thing, maybe that just shows how successful I am at hiding it.
Anyway, I'm glad it's back in my life. And together with Ana, they bring me peace.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
I woke up this morning to read something on the news about plus sized models being used in a Sydney fashion show. Now I'm very fond of fashion. I have 3 wardrobes, 4, if you count the one I have in another city. Now, I adore shopping and fashion and style. I spend a lot of money on clothes, and my wardrobe has a high turnover, and I am known for my clothes and shoes. I stream almost every couture and ready to wear show live online, especially if it's Chanel because I adore Chanel and Oscar de la Renta. I'm saving money to go to the Oscar de la Renta flagship store in Madrid next year.
So I'm trying to make the point that I know something about fashion.
I should say here and now that this is a pro-ana blog. I am not trying to convince anyone to see anything the way I do, I'm just expressing what I think. If you don't agree, I respect that, and you can quietly leave.
Nothing in this world disgusts me as much as plus sized models. Nothing. It is so wrong on so many levels. Firstly, from the point of view that general society is most likely to accept, I think it is wrong to showcase unhealthy people. I don't believe that thin models are all anorexic, but I do believe that all plus sized models are medically overweight or obese. For a medical point of view, this raises so many concerns. From blood pressure to diabetes to heart disease to infertility to just being fucking difficult to put a drip in, being overweight and obese is bad, bad, bad. These women should not be celebrated, they should be MRI scanned then told of all the diseases they are developing and dragged to a gym.
I'm not saying all women should be size 0. I might want to be size 0 but I don't think everyone should be. I would feel like some worthless piece of shit if they all were super skinny and gorgeous. We need some sort of balance and for me to be thin, there need to be people who are relatively fatter than me.
Now, let's just not talk about the medical side of things. I work in a hospital so I obviously see a whole load of fat, unhealthy people. So that side of things concerns me more than the average person. And I spend so much time telling people to lose some weight. Lose some weight to take the pressure off your joints, lose some weight to improve your diabetes, lose some weight to conceive a child. But this is not a medical blog, and I don't want that aspect of my life to take over.
Aside from the medical aspect, I HATE the way fat people look. I hate it. There is not one single article of clothing that looks better on a fat person than it does on a skinny person. There is a reason that over the many, many years the fashion world has chosen thinner and thinner models and there is a reason now that size 0 and size 00 exists. There is a reason that the great fashion houses don't make plus size ranges. BECAUSE THIN LOOKS GOOD. It's that simple.
Models are blessed. All thin people are blessed, with either the genetic disposition of being thin, or with the self control and discipline to maintain a thin body. Or both. When I watch a fashion show, I want to see graceful, thin, even boney figures sashaying down the runway in fantastic clothes. Not some fat lump lumbering down, filling out super big sizes.
There is a girl I know, her name is HB. She is one of the loveliest people I've ever met, and also one of the thinnest. She's one of those people who, you can tell she's bought the smallest size, and yet everything is loose. She could be a model, and that's what clothes should look like on models. Even the tight clothes and just that tiny bit loose and they look so comfortable. I can't wait to be like that, I really can't.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Well, since I'm technically on holiday I see no reason to not post on here. I still can't believe that I still have followers and people reading this blog on a regular basis considering the sparsity with which I post on it. I'm sorry for not doing constant posts like before, after not having constant internet, I'm used to only posting once in a blue moon. I do try to make up for it by posting longer posts which hopefully keep you all well entertained.
Here is something that I've always believed, but never really talked about. I will never ever be able to date someone who is thinner than me. For me, the shame in that is too much to bear. I'm sure there are plenty of nice guys who are thinner than me. I'm sure they would make good boyfriends. But to think that he'd be thinner than me...that is SO WRONG!!!! I'm saying this because there is this guy, one of my friends and flatmates, AC, he's been showing some interest in me lately. Now lots of people think I'm emotionally retarded when it comes to stuff about relationships, but let's just say that it's obvious enough for me to notice it. If any of you are interested in details just ask and I will provide! But for now, onwards. See, AC, we get along to varying degrees but there is no doubt in my mind that he would be a good boyfriend. But he's thinner than me. He's taller than me and weighs 5kg or more less than me. It's so depressing. He's so thin. It's not a look I like on guys, but I could never live with myself if I ever dated someone who was thinner than me.
This might be a really sexist opinion, but I think that in a heterosexual relationship, the girl should be smaller than the guy. Not only that, she should be smaller by a decent amount. Like, visibly much smaller than the guy. Shorter, thinner. That to me looks good in a couple. She should still be shorter even when wearing platform pumps. But height is one of those things we can't control. But weight, that's a different story. She should be much thinner. Which for me is an issue. I can't ever even begin to think about dating until I'm sure I'm thin enough to be thinner than all the guys I know.
And onto my new fav thinspiration girl. I love Mila Kunis. What she says is true. She said people who say they can't lose weight are liars. And that's true. They're just not trying hard enough. Mila knows where it's at! She is the same height as me and she got down to 43kg for Black Swan, which is apparently 9kg lighter than what she normally is. I thought she looked absolutely amazing in Black Swan. As does Natalie Portman. My only criticism is that to my eyes, they would look even better if they lost a few more pounds. But I realise that I have skinny vision and that most other people would feel that they already look too thin. Apparently the Black Swan diet is great, although, knowing that they danced 8hr a day to train for this movie, it makes me think that much of the weight loss is the 8hr of dancing as opposed to the diet. Nevertheless, the Black Swan diet is 1200 calories a day, which is usually nothing for breakfast or dinner, and a salad and nuts and fruit for lunch. I would never rubbish it. But for fast weight loss it'll need exercise is all I'm saying.
I have a diet plan that I hope to be following the next few weeks. After a clinical nutrition lecture I have gathered the following: rapid weight loss is from no carb, lots of vege and a bit of protein diets. Even though this sort of diet will increase your chances of dying. But seriously, I don't think I'd care if I dropped dead from some heart arrhythmia and if I lose the weight it's worth it. I've also learned that thermogenesis is important. This is the energy the body uses to digest food and this is actually a decent amount of energy. This is why people who eat many little meals during the day lose weight fast.
So based on that I'm going to try this: 6 small meals, of all negative calorie foods. Negative calorie foods are foods that use up more energy being digested than the actual number of calories it contains. There are lots of negative calorie foods such as: asparagus, eggplant, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, cauliflower, tomato, celery, apple, orange, strawberry, cucumber, watercress, leek, lettuce, capsicum, spinach and lots more!
Mind you, that is the number of calories of the food when it's raw or just like, boiled so if we go smother it with sauce then the number of calories shoots up. A wee bit of seasoning wouldn't go amiss though.
I also learned that while 30mins of exercise 3 times a week is good for cardiovascular health, at least 1hour of exercise each day is needed for any sort of weight loss. So, that diet plus 1hour of exercise per day should see me losing some weight. I'm not sure if I can keep up the exercise but the dieting should be easy to do. Might even give the cabbage soup diet a try.
Wow, so that's a longish post. I hope you all enjoy it and that you might've got some diet ideas from it!
Friday, August 12, 2011
So it's been a while since I last posted and before I get all philosophical and introspective on your asses I should at least post my weight status. I gained a whole heap of weight while I was on my obstetrics and gynaecology rotation. Heaps. I'm now back down to 55kg but increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress. Mind you, I am losing again, it's just annoying to be losing weight that I've technically already lost. But it's my own fault that I put it back on. 49kg seems so far away. So far away. I wonder if I will ever get there. I so badly want to get there. There is almost nothing I want more.
I want to get there fast. But after 6 weeks of binging and suddenly cutting back on food, I was reminded of the side effects today. The most insane postural hypotension I have ever had! That's when you suddenly stand up and you feel woozy and almost black out coz your blood pressure drops. I've not had it this bad for a long time now. I just hope I have a ways to go before I start feeling short of breath. Because I always cave in and eat a bit when I get short of breath. Nothing scares me more than the thought of suffocation.
I've been in denial about being depressed for a long time now but it's getting harder and harder to ignore. I still like to think I have my insight but I honestly don't know how much longer I will have it. I feel alone. The people I used to confide in aren't my friends anymore. I am totally obsessed with ophthal and Prof and I know this is absolutely crazy. I can't tell anyone because they will also think it's crazy and I don't want Prof to get into trouble for my own personal mental issues.
I cry most days. I can't remember a day in the past month where I haven't cried at least once. I'm disappointed in myself. I've not achieved what I set out to do. And yes, I hark on about how it's a long process and what's important is that I maintain it, but truly, if I could have it happen overnight, I would, no matter how much it hurt. I've got more motivation now at least. When I go out running, I think of skinny thighs and that beautiful gap between the thighs and it keeps me going. I just want to be wonderfully thin. To be able to see my bones sticking out. Nothing looks better than being able to see the outline of bones. I love it.
If there is such thing as ana-vision then I've definitely got it. Everyone looks too fat. Even people in anorexia documentaries being treated for ana look too fat. People walking down the street look too fat. And above all, I look too fat. Reading some of my older posts, I was making progress and I definitely remember the time when I was losing weight relatively quickly and I thought I was becoming wonderfully thin. But I look at myself now and I see how fat I am. How far I have to go. I don't feel like I've made any progress at all.
I have not seen the Prof for 7 weeks now. I can't possibly see him when I'm heavier than the last time I saw him. Even though I miss him to death, I want to tactifully avoid him until I can lose more weight. I want to be visibly thinner when he sees me. And he always seems to notice. He always mentions how thin I look. And it makes me feel great. I don't think he means it as a compliment, but it feels great. I want my arms to get thinner. I hate the fat on my forearms. I usually have short sleeves on and even in winter, I can see my forearms. I can see how fat they are. I hate how my lovely slender wrists suddenly balloon out with fat and become my squishy forearms. I hate all the fat on my body. I hate how big my boobs are. I hate how they get in the way of me fitting into smaller clothes.
I must be one of the only women in the world with C cups who wants a breast reduction.
And I can see, quite clearly now, that I am going to die. Soon. (Soon being the next 10 years so chill out, I'm not going to off myself anytime in the immediate future.) But I can see now that this will be what kills me. I will have my bones. I will have the thinness I've always wanted. But it will take away the people I care about and when they get angry at me, I will kill myself. In a way I've always known that was what was going to happen. When I was younger I thought it would be a bluff. Like, I'd attempt suicide and end up in hospital and recover. Kind of like, running away to see who will follow you. But now that I'm older and have realised that I do have the power to kill myself (that in itself is a terrifically calming thought) I have also realised that one day I will do it.
Because really, what is the point in living on. How did my life get to this point? I can't feel love. I don't know what the hell it is. I don't know how to love someone because I can't trust anyone. I don't know what it is to be loved because I hold the people I know in high regard and people that intelligent wouldn't be so stupid as to waste themselves loving someone like me. I can't even begin to comprehend that someone might care enough to worry about me. I can't even comprehend that someone might care about me, or miss me, or be thinking about me when I'm not right in front of them. I will try to do some good in my job but after a while, when I'm all burned out, I will off myself and that will be that.
At least I will die thin.