Sunday, December 30, 2012

a note on self worth

"Some fools fool themselves I guess, they're not fooling me. I know it isn't true. Love is just a lie made to make you blue."

The bitter acid rises up at the back of my throat as I check my bank account. I have thousands of pounds worth of stuff on my wishlist at net-a-porter and not even enough money to buy myself lunch. Anxiety starts to shake my body, and it seeps into every fibre of my being. I need that Miu Miu coat. I need that Proenza Schouler skirt. I need that Chloe dress. I need that Alexander McQueen bracelet. I need it all. I need more. More than just that. And I don't have enough money for one quarter of one item. 

Then it hits me, this isn't normal. Normal people don't have panic attacks about not being able to afford a horde of designer clothing. Normal people don't look on net-a-porter when they've spent 2000 pounds in the past week on clothing. Normal people wouldn't spend 2000 pounds on clothing in a week. Not that I've ever been normal, but this is too much, even for me. 

How can I explain, not so much for you, my lovely readers, how can I explain to myself what's going on. This growing desire for more clothing, more expensive clothing, more designer clothing. It is a need, a craving that bubbles and builds until I can't take it anymore. Somewhere, deep inside me, is a delusion being who thinks I'm a model. I can strut the life out of me in stilettos and a tight skirt, and in my head the corridors become catwalks. But I know I'm not a model. Even if I was thin enough, I will never, ever be tall enough. 

Some other part of me needs the clothing. It needs the expense and extravagance. It needs the extraordinary value to hang on my body. If people don't see a Miu Miu coat or a Proenza Schouler skirt or a Chloe dress, they won't see anything at all. I'm some transparent being, not worthy of being seen without it all. 500 pounds. That's a something tangible. A number for me to pin on myself. If that's what my outfit is worth, that's the worth other people see. Today, I'm wearing 500 pounds of clothing, and that's what my self worth is. If I'm only in a cheap tee and jeans, then I don't feel like very much at all. 

Recently I've not felt worth much at all. And I guess that's where this drive to buy more comes from. I guess it's just something I've got to get over, but I also think it's something I will never get over. I wish I was on holiday, maybe then I'd have some time to actually try and sort out the mess in my head. 

All my clothing, all my doubts about work, all my insecurities about the professor. But life goes on and I can't do it. I have too much to do, too many people expect something of me. I just want to be left alone for a week, to do nothing. To think. 

Of course being this fat doesn't help. Sometimes I think the professor has the amazing effect of getting into my head. Brainwashing me. "You're perfect, you're slim, you're beautiful, don't ever change, don't lose any more weight, you're too slim, please put on weight, you're perfect, you're perfect, you're perfect." It gets into my head. And I start to believe it. I've spent a good portion of the past week believing it. But the hypnotic effect wears off. 

When it wears off my heart is torn. Part of me is glad it's gone, and now I can be realistic and get down to the real work of losing weight and really becoming slim. The other part of me is itching for another hit and that part of me wants to crawl back to him just to hear those words again. 

So that's what self worth means to me. Designer clothing and the words of a man who terrifies me and whom I only see once in a blue moon. 

Saturday, December 29, 2012

battle plans 2013

"I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride and I'm wanted dead or alive."

That's what it feels like working the holidays. They want me, dead or alive. When everyone else is with family and friends and enjoying the summer sun and the beach and barbecues and all the things that summer should be, I'm hidden from the sun, in a hospital. Dead or alive, sometimes I don't really feel like either. 

It's an eerie feeling, driving the motorways early in the morning without another car in sight.  But worst of all is listening to my colleagues talk about their Christmas and New Year plans. It makes me feel lonelier than ever. Never thought I would miss my family this much. So what do I do? I eat and I eat and I eat. I come home and I eat some more. I guess it's filling me up, not in the way that I need, but it does do the trick. Even if I do hate myself afterwards. 

But this can't go on. It just can't. I will balloon at an alarming rate and then I will have to go kill myself somehow. By some miracle I haven't yet resorted to cutting, but a big part of that is that it is now summer and so I have a lot of skin showing. The places that I can cut are so reduced and I really can't have anybody else knowing that about me. It is the one thing that the professor never asks me about (maybe because his wife is around all the time) and I'd like to keep it that way. 

I'm fairly sure his wife knows about my eating issues. She's noticed herself, but he got to me before she did. The look she gave him when he told me that he couldn't feel my ribs anymore was quite priceless. She probably would have hit him if she had less self control. In retrospect, that's probably why he back tracked so quickly and instead of saying that I'd gained weight, he said I was perfect. Still, everyone knows what he means. I have gotten fat. 

So this must stop. I've been skimming blogs recently and I found one where the girl has started on Jillian Michael's 30 day shred. I have that DVD somewhere in my house. So I think I will start it. On Tuesday, because I am working till 11pm on Monday and so that's not a good time to start anything. And I need to tone down what I'm eating at work. The amounts that I'm eating are so stupid. So stupid. I need to eat less, work out more. There is no secret to weight loss, that's it. 

I don't know anymore girls, I just don't know. Failure isn't a strong enough word to sum up how I feel right now. I'm so down in every single way and my new found fatness is just the buttercream icing on a big ass cake. I must improve. 

Seriously, I've been all talk, all year and achieved nothing. Time to lose weight. Time for this BMI to finally drop below 20, time for some bones to start sticking out and some clothes to start hanging off them. 

Come on girls, let's make 2013 our year. 

Wednesday, December 26, 2012

tattoo thinspo and the dream life

"You're living in the past, it's a new generation!"

I'm absolutely inspired to get a new tattoo so I thought I would post some tattoo thinspo. I absolutely adore tattoo thinspo, there is nothing more beautiful than a boney, tattoo covered girl. I'm currently thinking of a design that I want on myself, and I will probably get it done in the next few weeks, if it looks okay, I might post a picture of it on here. 

The first one of the feather is like what I'm going to get on my back, to the left, and the top of the feather will be breaking up into little birds that fly away and curve round my flank. It's hard to explain, but I will definitely get an artist to draw it up first. I'm so excited. I feel like I've made some sort of breakthrough. Birds are always something that I wanted tattooed on me, and I love feathers but didn't want to get so many separate little ones. In a fit of peak, I realised I could just get them both in one tattoo. I can be so dumb sometimes. 

At times like these, I wish I could quit my job and just work in the fashion industry. I'd love to be an editor or you know, a fashion blogger that gets invited to be front row at all the couture shows. Be paid good money to give my opinion, and then I could wear what I wanted, I wouldn't feel so bad for having such an effusive wardrobe and I could tattoo the shit out of myself. Or, I could be a designer, make my own clothes and shoes and bags. Now, THAT'S the dream. 

I'm dying to get a tattoo on my forearm, but in my profession, it can be seen as quite offensive and could stop me getting good jobs in the future. Sometimes I hate having to look professional. That's why I bend the rules slightly when it comes to how I dress. I'm not demure, I'm not practical. I wear tight skirts, low tops, high waisted pants. I'm a walking fashion show. Or a limping fashion show, as is sometimes the case by the end of the day. Why shouldn't I be allowed to dress well. As long as I can do the job and my boobs and ass aren't falling out, it shouldn't be a problem. 

The studded boots, leggings, rock tees are more of a problem. I'd love to look like a rock chick. I hate how people just assume I'm one of those typical, sweet, giggling, passive Asian cuties. And I get guys asking me out because of that assumption. They want a cutie on their arm, to kiss and cuddle with and take out to dinner and be cute and sweet and go to karaoke and sing K-pop and J-pop and whatever other crap exists out there.

But when they meet me, I want to go to rock concerts, I want to listen to Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, ACDC, Bon Jovi, Depeche Mode, Black Sabbath, Def Leppard, The Violent Femmes and Guns'n'Roses. I want whiskey and port and I want to drive fast, to anywhere. I don't want to kiss or cuddle, I don't want to hold their hand. I would happily skip all that for a good fuck, but for some reason, the guys don't go for that. They find me pierced and tatted up and get put off. Whatever. Maybe I am a bit bipolar. 

Or maybe they find me fat and ugly and that's what puts them off fucking me. 

Sunday, December 23, 2012

I'm choosing my confessions (happy holidays to you all)

"Trying to keep an eye on you like a lost, hurt and blinded fool. Oh no, I've said too much. I've set it up." 

200 posts, 104 followers and I'm still going. It's hard to believe, but it's the current state of affairs. I can't say enough thank yous to everyone who reads this, to everyone who comments, to everyone who has shown me so much support, concern, loyalty and companionship throughout the times. 

You've shared my highs and my lows, my fears, hopes, dreams, suicidal thoughts. You've been there through the shedding of blood and tears and one way or another, you've held my head above water and here we are, at the start of all things. 

I apologise if I sound a tad too poetic today. There are several reasons for that. The most crucial of which is probably the fact that I got a bottle of 20 year old Portugese port today and I've had a fair few glasses of it already. The second reason is that I'm managing to squeeze into some of my size 6 clothes (I believe this is comparable to a UK6, and a US 2) and even though it is a SQUEEZE, it's definitely better than not being able to squeeze at all. The last reason is that I am still buoyed by my last meeting with the professor. 

There have been quite a few occasions where I have waxed lyrical about him, and part of me can't help it. Now, after several glasses of port and a good dose of Joan Jett and Pink Floyd and Depeche Mode, there practically isn't anything holding me back. 

One aspect is that it is terribly flattering to be so petted by such a powerful man. It feeds some sort of hungry little girl inside me who just wants a daddy to come along and take her hand and make everything okay. And that's what he does, literally. The last time that I saw him, he kissed me more times in half an hour than my own father has in 5 years. When my head isn't clouded by my ED and my self esteem issues, it is so clear that he cares. He's been my most trusted friend, least judging, and most supportive. He tells me I'm perfect, beautiful, and after a few drinks, I start to believe that he actually means it. 

Another point is that I just feel so safe with him. In a strange way, we get each other. We are uncannily similar, sometimes to an extent where I will try and change myself to make myself seem a bit more different. Wouldn't want him, or anyone else for that matter, to think that I was trying to be like him in every possible way. 

At any rate, I'm glad he likes me, likes me enough to get me a Christmas present. I'm glad he's still trying to help me and wants to see me more. 

This time of year always brings out the best and worst in me. I won't lie, the food temptations are hell. HELL. All the foods I love, but all the foods I'm not allowed to eat. At the same time that I'm stuffing my face, I'm also making endless resolutions about losing weight. It's around this time that I start doing the work out videos and popping the laxatives and the odd day of fasting. The end result of all this is that I get through the holidays relatively unscathed. Staying the same, no net gain or loss. 

Being realistic, I aim to do the same this year. Get through, stay the same, don't gain, and any loss is a bonus. 

So here's me, wishing all your girls a wonderful festive season. I hope nobody derails too much and that any damage is easily controlled. I hope everyone has a good time with friends and family, do things that you enjoy before it's nose to the grindstone again. Each little step is a step closer, and if anybody takes a step back, don't despair. We all step backwards sometimes. Just recognise it, and try not to do it again. 

I'm here if anyone is having trouble coping. My family are going away so I'm pretty much alone and always happy to give out advice/company/TLC. 

Happy holidays and look forward to a skinny 2013!!!

Every yours, 

Judith Marie. 

Saturday, December 22, 2012

I don't give a damn about my bad reputation

"Breaking little twigs with my feet and underneath is a road that's so steep." 

"You're looking well, I can't feel your ribs anymore." He smiles and I shrink away slightly. Suddenly, his mind clicks and he back tracks. "You look perfect. Perfect and slim. Please don't misinterpret that." He pulls me close, kisses me and walks me to my car while holding my hand. 

He kisses me again at my car. I can see how happy he is. He is so happy to see me "so well". Which only means one thing to me, I'm fat. I'm thinner than I was, but that's about the same size as when I last saw the professor, so in his head, I haven't changed weight at all. I still want to lose another 20lbs, at least, but I'm now fighting that same battle in my head, I don't want him to get upset with me. But I don't want to be upset with myself. At any rate, I'm only losing at the speed of about 1-2lbs a week, so it's very slow progress. Progress. But slow. 

Driving home, I clutch a tiny little box in my hand. A present from the professor and I'm dying to open it. Still, best to wait until Christmas. Wind in my hair, rain coming through the window, music blaring. It's been a long time since my heart has felt so much at rest. From the past turmoil of all my self doubt and all the pain after I had convinced myself that the professor hated me personally and professionally, this little meeting has settled everything, if only for the moment. 

For the moment, everything is okay. It was apparent that he was very worried about how I'd cope with starting work. He's relieved I haven't dropped a tonne of weight, he's relieved I don't look tired, he's relieved I seem cheerful. And I guess he's right. I'm handling it. I'm scared. I'm tired. I'm struggling, but I'm handling it.

That pretty much sums up everything. I'm handling it all. Not handling any one particular thing that well, but doing it all at an okay level. So that sums me up. Handling it all. Okay. 

I will update again soon to wish you lovely ladies merry Christmas...but that's for the next post! Want to say a big thank you, to all those who take the time to read this blog, and especially those who take the extra time to comment. 

I don't say it often enough, but I really do appreciate it, and reading your comments usually is the best part of my day. 

Sunday, December 16, 2012

shattered and defeated and making decisions

"So make all your last demands for I will forsake you and I'll meet your eyes for the very first time, for the very last." 

NB: I apologise if I've not been commenting on your blogs of late. Blogger is doing that weird thing again where it doesn't tell me when the blogs I follow update. I comment on the posts that I see pop up!

I've worked too long, too many long days, too many long hours. I've been afraid, too many moments of insecurity, of panic, of feeling shattered and defeated. Too many thoughts run through my head, my patients, my boss, my future, my body. Yes, I've lost weight, but only about 4lbs, and only the weight that I had put on when I was eating like some freak. So now I am back to my baseline 122lbs. I haven't moved forwards at all and I hate it.

The flurry of clothes that I had bought for myself, all a few sizes too small, hoping I'd fit into them by now still sit on hangers, taunting me and reminding me that I have failed in another aspect of my life. I must try harder. I must eat less. I must just buckled down and do what I need to do. From deep down inside me an old desire is rising, the desire to cut. I swore so many times that I would never go back there. I swore that no matter what, I would handle it and I would not take myself back there. But let's face it, it's an easy way out and right now, that's all I'm looking for. 

A gush of blood and I can sleep. A gush of blood and I can focus and study. A gush of blood and I am no longer hungry. All I need is to bleed out my anger and frustration and fears and anxiety and insecurity and hatred. Bleed it all out, then I can be just me. Calm. 

But I swore I wouldn't go back there. But I swore. 

It's not the only aspect of me that is being questioned. Every aspect of me is being questioned. I don't know what I want to do anymore. So much for wanting to do ophthalmology. The more I think about it, the more I feel like I can't do it. The intake is too low, 2 per year. With the amount of stress that I feel just working an ordinary job, I can't imagine what it would be to live for 5-7 years desperately trying to get onto a training scheme. And then I think of Alex. Perfect Alex. Thin, beautiful, talented, not a bad molecule in her body. She speaks fluent French and is half Japanese and is femininity personified. She's a warm spring morning in Paris with a black coffee and croissant. I try so hard to be like her, but I just can't. 

I'm not that person. I'm fat and bitchy. I'm spontaneous shopping and designer labels and consumerism with all the letters capitalised and italicised. I'm wobbly cellulite and a lazy slob and a liar and an absolute cow with a bad attitude. I'm full of badness and rock and roll and whiskey and port. I'm full Chinese and I only speak English. I'm a cold, wet morning in the Scottish highlands with black pudding and a fried egg. 

How can I pretend anymore. I can't do it anymore. I think of the professor, and how much I adore him and how much I've let him down. I can't possibly face him again. I can't do it. I can't spend the next decade or more of my life with someone who hates me as he must hate me. I can't be with someone who knows all my problems and wants to solve them. I can't spend my doing something that constantly reminds me of how inadequate and unworthy I am, no matter how much I love it. 

I will do general surgery and be worked to the bone. And be yelled at by my bosses and sleep 2 hours a night in my car and slice my own body to pieces and feel like I'm finally in my place. 

Time to do what I must. Book another tattoo, cut as deep as I want to, eat nothing at all and buy the biggest bottle of port and whiskey I can get my hands on. Fuck what other people think. Fuck "taking care of myself". Fuck it all. I don't care if I'm self destructive, maybe that's how I've always been. But it's the only way I know how to get by and right now, all I want to do is get by, one day at a time. 

If that means being hungry but thin, drunk but calm, put together but cut up then so be it. 

Monday, December 10, 2012

preoccupations of a bored, female mind

"Hate and fear and to do what it takes to move through."

Well, it must be a sign that I'm somewhat bored. I don't think this would have happened in surgery. I'd be far too busy in surgery to think of such things. However, what remains is that I'm not in surgery, and I am bored and I have therefore started to think about boys. *sigh*

I should say first up that me thinking about boys EVER is a big waste of time. Nothing ever happens, and that's probably my fault every time. Still, the odd flight of fancy never really hurt anyone and it does keep life a bit more interesting. Generally speaking, I hate these days where I get preoccupied with a guy. It seems so frivolous. It seems so immature. At times like this, I wish I could just focus and forget that guys exist and just get on with my job. 

His name is Josh and I used to think he was a real dick. But on the job, he's just transformed. He's sensible, easy to get along with and has a certain flair of spunk, or is it an undercurrent of rebelliousness, or is it simple laid back style? I can't decide. When I think of him, I think of the first resus I ever went to as a doctor. How scared I was, and how we looked through the notes together, and how afterwards he told me how good I was to talk to the family. And that made me feel good, because I had been hating on myself for freezing in the moment. 

He's actually worried about patients, he hands them over so well. He seems like such a pro already. Today, when he was showing me a computer trick, he came right over and leant on me. I didn't want him to leave. 

I want him to do so many things with me/ for me/ to me. And then I run my hand across my stomach, and I feel the lumpy scar that spells out "THIN" cut onto my skin and then I don't want it anymore. 

All my demons come laughing out again. How can I even let him near me when I'm really so very foul. It makes me feel like a little brat who wants it all and needs to be put in her place. At least my calorie count today was pretty good. All in all, I don't think I exceded 800cal, maybe even around 700cal. And you know what, I don't even feel that hungry. 

Dinner time is definitely the worst time for me. When I get home, I just want to collapse and drown in pasta and cheese and fried chicken and cake and everything that is a hundred calories per bite. But resisting it is the key. I've decided to go for quantity over quality. So for dinner I had a HUGE plate of cabbage. Filled me right up. But it was just cabbage. Was doing so well, until I ate some bread, and avocado and some egg. 

Still, this is one of the best calorie intakes I've had for a while. Water works so well. I drank like 3 bottles of water today, not once did I feel hungry. I'm going to keep the water up. Let's see how this change up works for me. 

The best way to lose weight for me has always been to have a crush. And if today has been any indication, then I shall be hitting my goals soon. Ah Josh, useful after all. 

Friday, December 7, 2012

when it all boils down

"I am surrendering to gravity and the unknown. Catch me, heal me."

The past 2 weeks have been an absolute rollercoaster for me. There were highs, and many, many lows that came with a pile of stress. I don't exactly know how I feel about being a doctor anymore, in the past few stress filed days, I've felt less than happy to be in my position. 

The level of stress is almost intolerable. I don't know how to deal with it and apparently I've developed a real psychosomatic way to expressing stress. I don't necessarily feel it, but I will become sick. And right now, I'm really, really sick. It does save me from the hospital, but I feel overwhelming guilt about it. 

There are no words to explain how it feels to make the transition between student and doctor. Nothing on this world could have prepared me for it. Life is so different when it's my head on the chopping block, when people expect me to know the answers and make the decisions. The reality is, nothing has changed inside me in the month between student and doctor, I haven't suddenly gained magical diagnostic skills, magical communication skills and magical insight into the processes of the hospital. But now, I'm expected to know. And it's fucking scary. It's fucking scary when I am the only on one the ward at 10pm and somebody is spiking fevers or has high blood pressure or is having chest pain and the nurse calls me and I don't know what the fuck I am supposed to do. 

Up until this point I have only had one situation in my life where I have been too stressed to eat, and that was when I thought the professor was going to fire me. But now, that level of stress is daily, even when I'm not at work, I have no appetite. I can't stop thinking about my patients, I can't stop thinking about all the times when I didn't know what to do. I can't help being scared about the next day. 

Everybody told me that the first 2 months of being a doctor is absolute hell. And I still wasn't quite prepared for it. I can't tell you how much I've cried the past few days. This is a whole new level of feeling inadequate, a whole new definition of fear, a whole new way of life. 

But there must be some sort of silver lining to all this. I am trying to retrain my body into not getting sick when I feel stressed, and I'm trying to express my stress with a loss of appetite. A lot of people lose their appetites when they are stressed. It will also be less suspicious, because all doctors lose a bit of weight when they start work. Or they gain weight because they are emotional eaters. 

My paper is also a massive stress factor for me right now. My co-author has been procrastinating his part for months now, and now the professor is making a big push for it to be done this weekend and he's freaking out. On top of that, his laptop isn't working, and he's asking me to do things that are way out of my depth and I'm freaking out. Sick as a dog, guilty as hell, freaked out to death and scared out of my wits. What a great end of the year. 

I better get some decent weight loss out of this, it will be some sort of consolation. 

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

buoyed by painkillers

"Learn and love and to do what it takes to move through." 

Being sent home has been one of the low points of my life. Not that being sick at work was that much fun. Now that I'm home again, I have resumed by schedule of painkillers that I had foolishly given up. 

I'm always convinced that painkillers don't work. Then I stop taking them and boy do I feel the pain. I'm floating, floating on a mass of paracetamol and ibuprofen and I've just dug out some codeine to add to the mix. I'm really not some druggie but this cold is hitting me hard and it feels like it's literally hitting me. No, that was not not a clever simile, but I can't do any better. 

At any rate, I will drag my sorry ass out of bed tomorrow and go back to work. I wish I could just kick it out of my system and go to work. I hate being this useless. Or I just want to stay at home and get better with no guilt. 

The lovely striveforperfection has nominated me for the Liebster Blog Award, so in addition to my previous blog post, I shall be answering her questions too. 

Strive for Perfection's Questions:

1. What would your ideal day be if you didn't have an ED?

Oh gosh. I can't even imagine. Let's see. It would be waking up in London in a stylish Soho penthouse at mid morning. Then I would have a nice pot of tea and a full English breakfast. There is almost nothing that I love more than a full English, but really, all those calories. But this is supposing I don't have an ED and so I don't care. After breakfast, I'd head for a wander around the British Natural History Museum before heading down Oxford Street and New Bond Street for a spot of shopping. I'd buy everything in Marc Jacobs. Then meet up with friends at Claridges for some high tea. We would all go back to my penthouse, tart ourselves up and go to dinner at Sketch, and we'd eat in the Michelin star Lecture Room. Post dinner, we'd see Phantom, or Les Mis, then to a nice bar for a port or sherry. 
Well, turns out I could imagine it very well. Very well indeed. And sometime this coming year, I will make it happen. Maybe not the food bits though. But minus the food, it's still a good day. 

2. What was the moment you realized you had an ED?

I can't say the exact moment, I do remember the exact moment I realised I had a self harm problem though. It was quite soon after that that I realised I had an eating problem too, but the exact moment isn't clear. I can remember so well what set it off, but the realisation of having an eating disorder and not just trying to lose weight is a bit fuzzy. 

3. If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?

Scotland. The Highlands. No, wait, Iceland. One of those places anyway. I love both of those places so much, but right at this moment, I think I'd sooner fly off to Edinburgh, then get my ass into the Highlands and just sit and stare. 

4. What is your biggest fear?

Spiders. Heights. Spiders. Heights. It varies, depending on which of the two I am facing. That and facing a medical emergency and not knowing what to do. 

5. If you could ask someone anything and they had to be 100% honest with you, who and what would you ask?

Oh, that's easy, the professor. I've spent so long speculating over what he thinks of me, it would be such a relief for him to just tell me. Chances are, I could just ask him, and he would be 100% honest, but then he would ask me why I wanted to know and I would have no answer for that. 

6. If you could tell someone anything without fear of judgement, who and what would you tell?

Well, there's really no one. I'm pretty blunt in my life, so everyone already knows what I think of them. Even the people I hate. Problem is, I'm so bluntly honest that not everyone believes me. The only thing they don't know is the ED, and the self harm. And I don't want them to know that anyway. Sometimes I want to tell the professor and his wife how much they mean to me. But then at other times I think it's best they don't know. 

7. Describe a time when you were truly, unquestioningly happy.

Front row at the Trend show at London Fashion Weekend. 

8. If your house was burning down and you had time to save one thing, what would it be and why?

My handbag. My life is in my handbag. Not to mention my wallet. If I have that, then I have the means to sort out the consequences of all the other things I lost in the fire. Nothing is of such sentimental value to me, or rather, too many to choose just one.

9. How has having an ED affected you?

Wow. It is every part of every day. It floats up behind every meal and every snack and every drink and every spot of exercise. It floats up behind every spare moment of the day. Imagine all the other things I could be thinking of I weren't preoccupied with my ED all the time. 

I might have a boyfriend, I might even be married. I might want children. I might not be so scared of sex. I might not self harm. I would be a different person.

10. How many people know about your ED?

One. The professor. A few others have been concerned about my weight loss at various points of my life, but he is the only one who knows for sure.

11. Given the choice, would you choose recovery or your goal weight?

I choose goal weight. Although there have been moments in my past where I would have chosen recovery, but I haven't had one of those for a while. I want my goal weight now. And I want nothing else more. I just want to be thin. 

Monday, December 3, 2012

Liebster Blog Award

I have been nominated for The Liebster Blog Award by Loveylou and Rachel and let me tell you, after an extremely busy week, and just arriving home from a 14hour shift, it lifted my spirits. I now have 100 followers, and I can't believe it! I've come a long way from the little blog I started for my own sake really. So I am deeply grateful.  

The Rules.
In your next blog post....
1.Thank the person/people who nominated you & Include a link to their blog.
2.Include 11 things about yourself.
3.Answer the 11 questions from the person who nominated you.
4.Choose 11 bloggers to nominate, they must have less than 200 followers.
5.Create 11 questions for them to answer.
6.Let them know you nominated them. 

Hi! My name is Judith Marie. 

1. I am 22 years old, but I have been mistaken for a 14 year old. I sometimes still get let on with child fares.
2. I absolutely adore old Brit shows. 'Allo 'Allo, Dad's Army, Open All Hours, Porridge, Blackadder etc etc.I've seen them all. 
3. I have so many clothes that I had to convert my study into an extra wardrobe. It's a little embarrassing but I still love my clothes!
4. Red heels. I love red shoes. But then again, who doesn't? 
5. I can count the number of people I really call friends on one hand. But that's not something that the general public know and a lot of people I secretly hate consider me a good friend.
6. My German Shepherd is my most treasured possession. I adore him. He's my little baby. 
7. Ever since my parents suggested I get my eyes "fixed" (I've got Asian single lids and this is the double eyelid surgery) a few years ago, I've been considering the surgery, and I'm starting to think about rhinoplasty and liposuction too.
8. I'd love to look like Twiggy. She's my idea of beauty.
9. Secretly, I wish I was Scottish. I'd love a soft, Scottish accent. I find it so charming, I think it would make me charming.
10. I once went to a doctor about being depressed. But even though I scored full marks on the depression scale, I managed to brush it off so well that she ended up telling me "even though you score so high, I think it's just your personal nature and that you're not depressed." Somedays I think about that and I think "if only". I might be very different if she'd referred me on.
11. I love ballet. I'd love to be able to be a ballerina. When I have enough money, I plan to take lessons.  

Questions from Loveylou

1. What do you love most about yourself?

Boy this feels like a job interview! Physically, I love my wrists. I think they look lovely and boney and that's why I would never cut there. Otherwise, I like my stubbornness. How I always do what I think is right and I won't bend to please people who mean nothing to me. 

2. Describe a memory that makes you proud

My qualification ceremony, hands down. Biggest moment of my life. All my hard work built up to it and it embodied everything that I wanted, cared about and had worked for. The dress, the shoes, the lipstick and all my classmates. It was the moment of my life where I lived entirely in the moment. 

3. If you could change one moment in your life, that you think would be pivotal, and could change the course of your entire life, would you? What moment would you change, what would be different?

When I was 11 years old, in intermediate school, I tried out and got the position of an aerobics instructor at my school's physical education program but I missed the first practice and was too embarrassed to go back. I think that if I had kept going, I would have been in the "in" group with some of the popular and pretty girls and my life would have turned out very differently because I have never been popular in my life. 

4. What would you do if your family and friends found out about your eating disorder and/or blog?

The first sign that anyone had found it, this would be deleted. I can't afford for people to read the contents of this. I doubt my family would be first so hopefully deleting it would be enough damage control. If somehow everyone found out, I would go out and throw myself under the first train I found. 

5. If you could be anyone, who would you be and why?

Miranda Kerr. What she has isn't exactly what I want, but she seems so happy with her life. I'd love to be able to be happy with my life even if that means a hunky hubby, a cute son and a killer bod. Okay, so that life doesn't sound so bad after all. 

6. What is your relationship with your parents like?

On the surface we joke around but I don't really feel very close to them. I hold a lot of pent up anger directed against them but I don't think they know about it. Maybe that's why we have so many conflicts in the house. 

7. What's your favourite 'safe food'?

Cucumber. It's so refreshing and tasty and it's sooooo much water and so few calories. 

8. What are you doing when you feel the most happy and joyful?

Driving. I love to go for long drives, fast, winding drives with some good driving music pumping out of the car stereo. That's when I feel so completely myself, that's when I get to do my thinking and sort out my shit, that's when I feel so free and alive. 

9. If you could be any animal what would you be?

Arctic wolf. I'd love to be a graceful wolf, living in the beautiful North, snow, cold, fur. I'd love all that. 

10. What is your favourite fashion statement or 'look'?

It's hard to describe. If any of you happen to be familiar with the designer Alannah Hill, then you will know. It's sort of mismatched, eclectic girly but I prefer to do it with a mix of edgy. Does that make sense? So, super feminine with an oddness that might be a mismatch or a slight hint of rock.

11. If you could make one wish, what would you wish for? (can't be body related in any way)

I would wish for an ididic memory. Then I would read every single medical textbook and know all the answers to everything at work and never feel like I'm panicking when I'm faced with a puzzling medical dilemma. 

Questions from Rachel

1. What music to you like and why?

I love alternative music. Think Tool. And I love Nine Inch Nails. My current love affair is with the Icelandic Of Monsters and Men. I think I like it because the lyrics all mean something to me. I just find it so hard to connect with most mainstream music today. 

2. Do you sing or play a musical instrument?

I used to play violin and guitar but I had to quit both when I got super serious about scholarships and school. I'm trying to pick up guitar again but time makes it difficult. I will do it though. I love the guitar. 

3. Can you pinpoint when your ED began? Why did it start?

I have 2 major points in my life. I can pin point when my anorexic and self harm thoughts first began and it was when I was about 12 years old and I had gone from my multi-racial, down to earth public primary school to an exclusive and exclusively white intermediate school. I was shunned socially, but found a few other outcasts to hang out with. Then one day one of the popular girls asked me what I had got my sports badge for (it was for orienteering). When I replied, she said to her friend, to my face "oh, so that's it. I was wondering, because, you know, look at her." I had first started to really seriously restrict when I moved out of home. At home I my parents dictated my meals but when I moved out I just stopped eating.

4. What's your favourite season?

I love winter. I love winter fashion, I love layering, I love coats and boots. And I love the fact that all that covers my ugly fat.

5. If one food of your choice could have no calories, what food would you choose?

My first instinct is to say fried chicken! Boy, I love fried chicken! But, I'd have to say noodles because I eat a lot of noodles. 

6. Describe your hair: is it long? short? straight? curly? dyed? how do you like to wear it?

I have short, straight, black hair. I wear it pretty much in its cut, almost bob shaped. It's growing out and I have to recut it soon. I'd love to have long, curly hair but I don't have the patience to grow it. 

7. Diet coke or diet pepsi?

Diet coke. But if I could really go around the question, I really only drink Coke Zero. 

8. 3 favourite books?

The Color Purple, The Bell Jar, The God of Small Things.

9. Who are some of your celebrity thinspirations?

I'm sure this will be the same as lots of other people but, Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman in Black Swan. Also Kiera Knightly, Victoria Beckham, Rachel Zoe and Karlie Kloss. 

10. What's your bedroom like?

It's got cream walls with dark wood furniture. I have a series of photos in frames tessellated on one wall with a dresser and a mirror opposite. I also have a great stereo. Right now I've got clothing covering the floor. I wish I had a bigger mirror but I've only got one thin, floor length mirror. 

11. What is your dream career? do you think you'll end up doing it?

My dream career is a doctor. And I am doing it! 

My Questions:
1. How would your life be different if you didn't have an ED?
2. Thinspiration or reverse thinspiration and why?
3. Favourite item of clothing?
4. What is your dream holiday?
5. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? (can't be body related!)
6. Besides your ED, what is your next biggest problem?
7. How much do you think the fashion industry has contributed to your ED?
8. Do you have any tattoos or piercings? Would you ever get any?
9. How does your ED affect your relationships?
10. If you were on death row, what would be your last meal?
11. What is top of your bucket list?

My nominations:
1. Toofatforwords
2. Oustsideintothin
3. Sam Lupin
4. Jackie
5. striveforperfection
6. nothing tastes as good as skinny feels
7. Christina
8. Lana Banana
9. xXpOsErXx
10. fuckingpicnic
11. Beth