Day 10: when you love, love, love

"I want to know what love is. I want you to show me."

Mark smiles up at me over his dinner as I walk into the staff cafeteria, haggard. Another disgusting meal from this horrific place. It's late, the cafeteria is about to close and I've run in at the last minute. Out of the corner of my eye I see him look back at me as I scoop indeterminate coloured masses into my plate but he looks away when I greet other friends as they walk into the cafeteria. 

I see him turn to his own dinner as my friends settle themselves at another table, giggling as they chat. He seems somewhat surprised to see me sit down opposite him. Again he smiles at me and we end up sitting there and chatting for almost an hour. It's difficult for me to maintain as much eye contact as I'd like to because I don't want him to see me squirm and blush. Part of me wants to remind him that there are patients in ED that need to be seen, especially as I see the other doctors finish their dinner and leave, but Mark stays put, with me as I pick and pick at my meal. 

Thanking the lords that for some reason I've put my meal in a take out box instead of a plate, I close the lid, not wanting Mark to see that I've not really eaten anything. We talk about God knows what, laughing one minute, serious the next. The whole time I'm trying to see Mark's pupils, to see if they are dilated at all. At the end of the meal, I'm not sure, which probably means that they weren't and they were dead easy to see in his blue eyes. Luckily he definitely wouldn't be able to see my dinner plate sized pupils in my black eyes. 

I feel sick whenever I think about Mark. He makes me want to vomit. Because I like him so much. Yes, I know how weird that sounds.  

and what does daddy say?

"I think I thought I saw you try. But that was just a dream."

Firstly, thanks for your responses to my last post. Sammy, blogger hates our love and will not display your comments. It was interesting to find out what areas bother you most. And that we all hate our tummies and thighs. 

Since that post I've spent a week freaking out about going to see the professor for a barbecue and then actually going and feeling extremely young and uneducated. I'm not sure how well I remembered that night, I had just come off long day, post-take rounds and having worked 12 days in a row I was in quite a state. 

In true me-style, I had panicked as soon as he invited me to this bbq with several other consultants and my boss in Bristol, who is over here visiting. It didn't feel right at all. I was the youngest person there by 20 years and I just kind of sat in the corner with not much to say. I was too tired to be witty or charming. But it was still a nice night. 

So the long and short of it is that I had no idea what I was doing there. It was an honour to be invited, but it was odd. I know for sure the others were surprised to see me there. I felt like I was their child, just there to be polite and presentable. It must be some kind of record, no person as junior as me has ever been invited to anything like that. I felt awkward, out of place and juvenile, but in an odd way, I was totally the cat that got the cream. 

Apart from that, the night was odd in another way. I had a weird feeling that out of the 4 women there, at least 3 of us had had some sort of eating disorder at some point in time. The other women were deadly thin, boney and gorgeous in that way. And he watched what I ate. Didn't embarrass me per se, but mentioned that I hadn't taken much food. 

Another thing that I've only just found out, is that my entire class at medical school seem to think that the professor is my sugar daddy. I don't know what a sugar daddy is, but I do think of him as a father so I guess that's close enough. Josh thinks that the professor is my sugar daddy. Which I find sweet. But I don't know why. 

I still have a huge crush on Josh. He's such a nice guy. Unless I'm barking up the complete wrong tree or am completely stupid, if I tried a bit harder, I could probably get him. He sits close to me, always makes physical contact when he sees me. But as usual, I will just wait for it to pass me by. 

I guess besides this, I don't have much to say tonight. I feel some sort of change in me. And as of yet, I don't know what it is. I will update accordingly, when I figure out what is changing. But I can feel that something is going to happen. 

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. 

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

my last message ever to the haters.

Let me be brief about this, because this is not the first time that I've left a message to haters who comment on my blog. But it will be the last time.

I've tried, time and again to reason with you all. I know that having a blog like this, and putting my opinion out like this will inevitably attract the attention of those who do not agree with me. Yes, I know this will be most of society. I'm not saying that my opinion is "correct", but it is my opinion, and it is the reality that I live in. 

I don't ask anyone to agree with me (although it is nice when you do) but I do expect common courtesy. If you disagree, do not blatantly attack me with comments. What do you think that will achieve? That calling me a selfish, senseless, ignorant bad doctor will suddenly make me think "oh gosh! they're right! I've decided not to have an ED after all!" 

If anyone thinks that, well, God help them. You may detect that I've got a hint of resentment in this, and that's because I'm sick and tired of repeating myself. Leaving me, or any pro-ana blog comments like that is not caring, it does not show compassion or empathy, it's not anything good. It's just an attack, nothing more. And it's juvenile. 

If you are clearly not pro-ana, if you do not want to lose weight, if you do not have an eating disorder, please, please, please do not waste your time on my blog, or any of the other blogs. Time is precious. I spend time here because it's a release for me. If spending time here angers you, angers you enough to leave such hateful remarks, do yourself a favour, don't waste your time here, making yourself miserable. 

Feel blessed that ED isn't one of the things that haunts you, and leave this world of ours alone. 

So let me just say this: any comment left on my blog that is derogatory, insulting, rude, aggressive will be deleted on sight. 

Yes, it still hurts me to read those comments, they were the reason I deleted my blog earlier in the year after all. But now I've learnt that if I let them get to me like that, then I will lose my only outlet. If my last attempt is any indication, I will then rapidly spiral into depression, increasingly suicidal ideation, and with a job, I may just do it this time. 

And finally this leads me to a message of thanks. 

Firstly, thank you to all my followers, I can't believe there are now 100 of you. Thank you for your continued support through all my ups and many, many downs and your kind and patient words. 

Secondly, thank you to faithandmeow. I know that we do not see eye to eye on this whole issue. But I really do appreciate the fact that you show me respect in your comments, you have never attacked me in them, and have yet been able to make your point clear, standing on the opposing side. I wish all the hecklers were as mature as you. 

and then we came to the end of all things. (and a message to haters who comment)

PRIMUM NON NOCERE

6 years of blood, sweat and tears (all literal) boiled down to one moment that was over in a flash, but also seemed to last a lifetime. I almost cried when I took the Hippocratic Oath. I blew my family a kiss as I walked across the stage. My feet felt like death on daggers in my heels, but I felt amazing. 

It got me thinking, what does this mean for me? I have been heckled, time and again online for writing this blog, with my background. Does it mean I cannot be a good doctor? Does it mean I am a danger? Does it mean I should know better? No, no and yes. Yes. I should know better. But then again, none of us wandered down this path thinking that we would be glamazons. We all know what lies ahead of us or with us. 

And, to make it clear to any of my harshest and most vocal critics, DO NOT THINK I CHOOSE TO BE HERE. I found myself here. Maybe it didn't creep up on me, and maybe I did see it coming but I didn't wish for it and when I saw it coming, I feared it. And now that I am here, I will do everything in my power to prevent another girl from ending up here. This is not somewhere anyone should be. It's the 7th level in Dante's Inferno, we're down here, freezing with the devils in our heads who tell us every second, of every day that we are fat, ugly and totally undesirable. 

Maybe I should have done something about it sooner. But in the same way that deer freeze in headlights, I froze. I was too ashamed to go for help, and now I am too ashamed to go because I don't look thin enough to need help, and I am far too old. You may say that I am resigned to my fate. I see it as embracing the inevitable and trying to do the most good with whatever time I have left. 

Having an eating disorder doesn't make me a bad doctor, nor does it make me a danger. Surrounded by other doctors, they would drag me kicking and screaming to recovery before I became either of those things. 

I hate it when I am judged online by people who have only read one post of mine, and already think I will be a bad doctor. 

There are people in my class with substance abuse issues, there are people in my class who have attempted suicide (and one who succeeded), there are people who are alcoholics, there are people who sleep around like you wouldn't believe, there are others with eating disorders, anger issues and relationship issues, people who are racist, sexist and worst of all, people who are only in it for the money. So don't tell me I'm going to be a bad doctor. We all have our demons, but they are ours, and I'd like to think that most of us would rather take a bullet than let it interfere with patient care. 

All it means is that I can probably spot an eating disorder before most, and it gives me patience. I understand when patients don't listen to advice because it stops them getting what they want. I understand when they try their best but can't seem to succeed. I can spot the lies, but I do not hate them for lying to me. I totally get it. 

Yes, I know I am expected to be super human. I am not supposed to have problems, I am not supposed to have issues, I am not supposed to forget things, I am supposed to be always happy, cheerful, full of wisdom and I am supposed to take all the racist and sexist abuse that patients hurl at me with a large tub of salt and smile and love them like all the other patients. I am supposed to have a wonderful boyfriend, a perfect family, no debt and perfect teeth. I am supposed to be an angel of life. I am none of those things. I'm just a normal girl, with my own demons, trying to do my best. 

I will probably battle my eating disorder until I die. But why should I be greeted with such hate and disgust, why me and not the patient with heart disease because they ate too much? Why me and not the patient with lung cancer because they wouldn't quit smoking? Why me and not the schizophrenic who stabbed his own father? Why does my profession mean that I am not allowed to have a disease?

I wish people would remember that while being in hospital might be a once in a lifetime thing for them, I have 60 patients, 60 patients that change every day. Much as I would love to, I cannot devote a full day to one patient, and all I can do is my best. I am only human, but I shall, like all my colleagues, do my best to be more than that.

They say that you are not a real physician until you have killed a few patients. And that is what they told us on the first day of medical school. So I will enter the killing fields on Monday. Hope to never see you on the frontline, my friends. 

knowledge is power

"We give and take a little more, the eternal game of tug and war. Power and control."

The endless pit that is my stomach rumbles shamelessly and the noise seems to echo through my ears. I'm convinced that the whole room can hear it. Ramming my fist into my abdomen in a vain attempt to curb the sound, I stubbornly continue to flick through my stack of x-rays. It's a test and a woman stands over my shoulder, listening to my every word. It is the final test, in many ways I am already qualified. 

The words spill from my mouth in such rapid succession that my fellow clinicians look concerned. I'm so mechanical in this, I barely know what I'm saying myself, my voice sounds like a far away drone and in my state, the words mean nothing. "PA erect chest x-ray of an elderly female patient of good penetration and minimal rotation. There are no obvious bony defects or soft tissue swellings. Gross cardiomegaly is present with increased interstitial markings, blunting of both costophrenic angles and septal lines. There is peribronchial cuffing in both lungs as well as upper lobe diversion. All of this is consistent with congestive heart failure."

The woman behind me nods and moves onto the person next to me. I release a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I'm done. Next time I walk into a hospital, I won't be a student anymore. Fully qualified, holding lives in my hands. I think back to the first lecture I ever had at medical school. The opening line of this lecture was "as doctors, you will all kill patients. Hopefully none of you will do it deliberately. This is something you have to accept now or you will have a hard time." I don't know if I've ever come to terms with this. It scares me to the bone. 

I try not to think about it. Try to get on with what I need to do. 

"Oh my gosh, you're so thin!" But I'm not. Most of the other girls have lost much more weight than me. In England, I got down to almost 50kg. Then I got back up to 57kg. I think I'm hovering around 54kg to 55kg now. I have lost a bit of weight since I got home and away from that recovery house. I can feel that I'm thinner, but nowhere near as thin as I was when I was in England. Not as thin as I was when I was in control of my own food. 

But this just goes to show that I can do it. I can lose a lot of weight very quickly. I can also put it back on very quickly, but I can lose it, and that's a relief to know. A little discipline is all I need. And it does come off. I had the faintest of thigh gaps for a while there. So it's possible. Now all I have to do is to get back there as fast as I can. 

Tune out the hunger, it means nothing. Tune out the headaches. It means nothing. It's so simple when you boil it right down. At the be all and end all of any conversation, when I don't eat, I lose weight. So if I want to lose weight, all I have to do is not eat. It's very, very simple. 

the german boys.

"So we're back here again, tip-toeing around the edge of the end."

Back at home, lying in bed, using internet and jetlagged as all hell. I'm too scared to even weight myself because I know that I am still fat. I have gained weight. Thanks to stupid and amazingly hot German bloke I lived with. But now I am home, away from that dratted recovery house and things will be back on my terms thank you very much. 

It feels strange to be at home, it feels as though I never left. This trip hasn't changed me at all. I feel the same about myself. It is so easy to pick up the strands that I dropped 2 months ago. 

I need to go back to the professor at some point in time. And I can already feel the anxiety rising in my chest just thinking about it. The old illness rising, the old emotions awakening.

Work looms. I am looking forward to it simply because of the weight loss potential there. No matter what happens in my life, weight loss is still the only thing that I crave. 

My weight is really holding me back. And I realised this while I was in the UK. The first German guy I lived with, Chris, was the one to start force feeding me. Even though I hated him for this, I absolutely adored him. He was cute, he was extremely nice and we ran on the same wavelengths. We used to go on long walks together, go explore the city together and he always had an umbrella to hold over me when it started raining. He would kill spiders for me even though I knew he was terrified of them too. I missed him so much when he left.

I'm terrible at reading what a guy thinks of me, but by the end of our 5 weeks together, I knew he liked me, and I knew by the end of the 3rd week that if I wanted him, I could have got him. But I couldn't try. I couldn't bear the thought of him touching me even though I wanted nothing more, and feeling all the fat on my body. I started to push him away in the last week. I wouldn't go to any of his dinner invitations, wouldn't go out clubbing with him. He was really upset with me in the end. 

He still messages me on facebook. And I feel terrible each time I hear from him. 

Andreas, the second guy, was very different, although he was the one who fed me the most. He made me feel even worse about myself. Andy is one of the best looking guys I've ever seen in my life and I hated being in the same room as him. I felt I was far too fat and ugly for him to even look at me and that is something that I just couldn't get past. 

I remember the first time I saw him. I'm sure he could see the physical response I had to first seeing him. I stopped what I was doing, my eyes bulged, my jaw dropped and I became extremely flushed. He is just so good looking. Deadly charismatic, but not charming in the way that Chris was. Maybe I say that because Chris was trying to get to me, and Andy wasn't. 

I wonder how things would have turned out if I had been thin. Would I have gone out with Chris? Would I have talked to Andy more? 

But does that matter, because I am fat and I didn't do any of those things. 

pretty hate machine

I got my heart but my heart is no good. You're the only one that's understood. I come along but I don't know where you're taking me, I shouldn't go but you're reaching back and shaking me. 

Turn off the sun, pull the stars from the sky. The more I give to you the more I die. 

You're the perfect drug. 

It's almost 10pm and I'm standing outside ED in the rain. I wrap my coat around me and look up and down the quiet road. There are a few patients smoking in a corner, there is a hobo lying in the bus stop, then there's me. I've not eaten all day, I've been working almost 14hours and I was shaking with the cold. Lights. Blinding. She pulls up and I clamber in. She deposits me at home and drives out and buys me fried chicken. We share it. 

I know the fried chicken was a very deliberate choice. She knows I've not eaten all day. I find it hard to be mad at her. She's one of my best friends, she's my flatmate, she's my colleague. She's been staying up, waiting for me to call her to pick me up because she won't let me walk home in the dark. In a way, I've never been cared for like this before. 

I swallow my chicken, fighting the rising bitterness. I know she's taking care of me. And I do love her for that. This is just an ED, ruining an otherwise lovely moment. 

Paediatrics. I love it, but it's not my thing. Being around kids disturbs me, and this sounds stupid, but it's because they are smaller than me. I feel some sick sense of satisfaction when I see a child who weighs more than me. I want the long, lean, boney appearance of the young girls. I want to look like that. This must be why I hate my boobs. I'd much rather be flat chested. 

I must be the only female I know to complain about having size D cups. My guy friends are apparently very fond of my boobs. Just the other day one of them told me that he and his now ex-gf had an argument over me and my boobs. 

I've been away from this blog for a while because I was PMSing and somehow my hormones convinced me to have a crack at recovery. The thought process was this: if I am this miserable when I'm trying to lose weight, so miserable that I want to die, how bad can it be if I stop trying to lose weight. How bad can it be if I just give in, do what my boss wants me to do and just stop trying and even gain some weight? I can't imagine it being worse than wanting to die. 

And I have to say, that was some solid logic. Pity it didn't really transpire like that. I upped my calorie intake. Probably not by much because I didn't have any high calorie foods in the house, maybe to 1000cal a day. Then I just worked out harder at the gym so that my net calorie intake was about 500cal a day. And I can tell that I've lost some weight doing that. I've not weighed myself yet but I can feel that there is a small change, maybe 2lbs. 

2lbs loss. And that kicks off the vicious cycle. As usual, nothing in this life will feel as good as seeing the number on the scale go down. Now I'm back to restricting. I'm going to keep my calorie intake up a bit more, because I loved the difference I felt at the gym. But the strange thing is, when I wanted to lose weight, all I wanted to do was eat. Now that I'm actually making an effort to eat more, I'm finding it extremely difficult. 

Ah well, see how it goes, I'm so far down that if I go down any more, I'll be 6 feet under. Which is fine too. 

thinspiration: tattoo

Quite a few of you have said that you like tattooed thinspo. I've been thinking of posting a purely thinspo post for a while now, so here are some beautiful tattooed girls to keep us all movtivated!