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. 

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

thank you and goodbye

Hello there my lovely followers!

I write to you for the last time. After a week of long and careful thought I've decided that I need to delete this blog and end my blogging days. So in a few days, I will delete this blog and I will not be starting a new one. 

Now I don't think any of you will know this, because I've been deleting these comments as soon as I see them, but recently I've had quite a number of abusive comments left here. All of them take offence to everything I say and the fact that I am a medical student is just more cannon fodder. I've had this plenty of times in the past, and I've dealt with it every time, but this time, there are so many of them, and they are so upsetting that I just don't feel like it's worth it anymore. 

If this blog isn't a safe place for me to express how I feel, what I think and for me to feel less alone in this, then it has no purpose at all. I've found myself getting more and more depressed as the abuse mounts up and I've felt increasingly suicidal. It makes me sad to realise that this blog, once a place of comfort and support for me, is now a driving force that propels me closer and closer to suicide. So I feel that the best thing to do is to just delete this blog, remove that force, and carry on the best I can by myself. 

I don't feel any need to say what those comments contained, and I don't feel any need to respond to any of them. All I will say is that I wish I had never seen them. 

I'm writing this post to say a big thank you to all my lovely followers who have been with me through the years. I've shared my heart and soul with you and you have lifted me up when I was down and wiped away the tears that no one else saw. At times I've felt so close to all of you. 

It was always my intention to say goodbye to you lovely people before I killed myself. And while I do not plan to kill myself immediately after I delete my blog, that day is certainly coming and I don't want to go without saying goodbye. I think this blog kept me alive for so much longer than I would have otherwise lasted. The support I feel here is amazing. Now there is something that has taken that feel away. 

Thank you, thank you and thank you again for following me, helping me, keeping me company. I will think of you all until the day I die. 

I love you all dearly and I wish you all the very best for your futures. I hope you get everything that you have ever hoped and dreamed of and more. 

Yours ever,

- Judith Marie

Für Sammy - no hullaballoo. just chemicals. and no one looking down on you.

They want to take our light, make us fight, but never cry for the ones you love. I'll be your warrior, warrior. 

The world isn't perfect. It certainly isn't what I would wish it to be. It's not even close. For one thing, my perfect world wouldn't be inhabited by cockroaches. But that's beside the point. 

Oh what it would be for each schoolgirl crush to be reciprocated by a tidal wave of affection, or for each cut and bruise to be showered by angel kisses, or for each kernel of pain and despair and worthless stored inside the heartwood of our souls to be seen without being seen. 

It's not easy to find joy in pain, or to find success in sorrow, sometimes it feels damned near impossible to even try. Sometimes we choose to bare our hearts to reveal the cowering, crying, love-starved child hiding inside to those who should love us the most, only to have her trampled upon with mockery and jest and words that sting more than ice rain. Sometimes we wish we hadn't. Sometimes it helps us grow. And sometimes, just sometimes, it helps us recognise who loves us the most. 

Is having an eating disorder a weakness? No. Us girls, we are some of the strongest people I've ever come across. We face each day with a smile and a joke for society, a kiss and a hug for friends and family, a good few hours of our life for work and study, all the while a voice gnaws at us and we are waging a war in our heads and hearts. The basic human desire to eat, and that voice that tells us we must be thin. But we don't crack. And when we trip, we get back up. 

It's moments of stress and conflict, not moments of joy, that define who we are, and my friends, we are strong, we will succeed. It might take a year. It might take two years. It might take ten years. But we will get there. Which is more than most people could hope for. It's this strength that binds us together. It runs to my veins. It runs through Sammy's veins. It runs through the veins of everyone reading, and every girl who is on our journey. 

Who are they to look down on us? We have something they will never have. We have power. We have support from around the world. We have a common enemy. When I fast, I feel so accomplished, I can do something they can't do. 

Sammy, if I could turn back time, I would make your family mourn for you. I would make them see what it's doing to you. I would make them see that you are not being silly, you are not being stupid and you are not being weak. I would show them how strong you are, how you function despite all the shit. I would do so much. 

But I can't Sammy, all I can do is to do all that stuff on their behalf. If you can't get your strength from them, my love, take all of mine. 

Though oceans may part us, I sometimes feel you in the room with me. And I can wipe away your tears and take away the hurt and make you understand that you're beautiful. And it doesn't matter if you don't believe the world thinks that. But you have to believe me when I tell you that I think that. If you can't feel their love, dear Sammy, take all of mine. 

What will it take to make you wake up another day feeling less empty inside? When all you've worked for your entire life ceases to hold any meaning, what happens then? Does it matter if we have a purpose? Is it not enough to go through life and try to do as much good as we can in the time we are given, to recognise the blessings, apparent or hidden, and to rest peacefully knowing that we did all we could, and that we could do no more. If you can't find a reason to live, dear Sammy, take all of mine. 

I'm sorry for all that you've gone through. I'd change it, if I could. You truly deserved better, you deserve what I have, but I was luckier, nothing more. If it was mine to give, I'd give you happiness, and everything you had ever dreamed of and more and the will to battle on, no matter who knocks you down. If you can't find strength in the world, dear Sammy, take all of mine. 

prying open my third eye.

A child's rhyme stuck in my head, it said that life is but a dream. I've spent so many years in question to find I've known this all along. 

What if everything that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. Old friend that I've known so long, have I been calling you the wrong name? But a rose by any other name would smell as sweet and you filled my bitter emptiness with your tar-like sludge. You filled me to the brim and flowed over into the world I share with everyone else. Even now I dare not whisper your dark name, your real name, the one you hid from me for so long. You are not my Ana, nor are you Mia, but you have masqueraded as both. 

But now I know you. Now I can smell your festering scent, I see the hideous wounds you have inflicted on the lives of others, I see that you dwell inside me, and have done for years now. Fiend, I do not expect you to leave me now, but to stay with me to whatever end. 

The past few years of my life stretch in my mind, a brilliant whiteness, filled with nothingness, no meaning, no content, no hope. Nothing but you. I don't love you. Certainly not the same way that I have love for Ana. But I accept you. 

Sitting in a familiar classroom, surrounded by familiar faces that I have no attachment to, a new sensation grips me. Reunions, filled with celebrations, filled with food, filled with calories. I had no company that day, all those people were nothing to me. I can't feel joy, not when I know there is food involved. 

Back in the same flat, with the same friend, the same habits threaten to slip back into place, so comfortably. Today, it was somehow different. Each time I eat now, an unquiet fills my body, an agitation shakes my bones. It's now all for show. That new sensation grips me again. It's a voice in my ear. It's a face in my head. It's filling my soul, it swirls around in the air I breathe. 

Fat, ugly, unworthy, you fucking stupid bitch. Fat and ugly. You stupid ugly pig. You're so fat that no man could ever find you attractive. You fat and ugly pig. 

Those same haunting words, yet the voice is different this time. It does not sound the same. It is just as callous, yet softer, and offering hope. 

You fat, ugly pig. Come here and let me embrace you. You don't need those who hate you, I am here to love you. I will love you for the rest of time, all you have to do is do what I ask of you. All you have to do is follow one simple rule. 
Don't eat. It's really not that hard. Don't eat and you will never be alone. Don't eat and you will always be loved. Don't eat and you will always be part of a family. Don't eat and you will be beautiful. Don't eat and you will be worthy. I will tuck you into bed each night. I will be there when you wake. I will make you all that you have ever wanted to be. 

Dear Ana. Hello. It's nice to meet you at last. I've been waiting for you for so long. Now that I've heard your voice, and tasted your bittersweet promises, I will never let you go. 

Each day is filled with a new kind of torment, one that never really existed before now. I have made the conscious decision not to eat for a long time now. This is the first time I've been unable to eat. I cannot binge. I hate the idea of food. There is no joy in eating. There is no pleasure in being full. I am afraid now, afraid that people will make me eat. 

Now it is not a choice. Now it is a need. 

babe, I'm going down!

...because there is no such thing as too thin. 

Ah, after all this time, there is still no feeling that can compare to stepping on the scale and seeing a lower number than yesterday. There is no thrill, no rush, no high that can come close to seeing the number on the scales get smaller and smaller. And my skinny babes, I'm on my way down. 

In the space of this week, I've gone down from 57kg to 54kg. It's not good enough, but, it's a start. I've started restricting again. Restricting old school style, who cares about eating a million little meals of few calories, I'm not eating at all. And it's damn well working. I'm homestaying right now for a few weeks and the way my schedule works is that I can skip breakfast and lunch. I go out and walk for an hour at lunchtime instead of eating. And I have dinner, but the portions here are pretty small and pretty damn healthy as all the food comes from the garden in the back yard. 

I'm drunk on tea and chewing gum. I'm relieved to be finally going down again. I'm relieved at how easy it is. 54kg. I wanted to be 50kg by the time I left for England. If I can keep this pace up, I will be less than that. Jumping up and down in the bathroom, I'm elated. 

There is a lightness that comes with this. A mental, emotional lightness. I'm on my way home - that's what this feels like. I'm on my way to the thinness that I call home, a weight at which I will feel safe and happy. 

I rest my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly. "It's abnormal, say it." And I whisper these words with closed eyes. He sighs quietly and rests his chin on my head. "You're looking healthier, not healthy yet, but healthier." He can't hide his happiness at seeing my weight gain. I feel like crying. I love seeing him happy, and I know he will be upset when I lose weight again. But for now I cling to him. Sometimes it feels like he's all I've got in this world. 

There is a restlessness that is filling every cell of my body. I've started doing things that in hindsight are all steps in hiding weight loss to others, but highlighting it to myself. I'm buying large sweaters which hide my body, but I'm also buying skin tight dresses that at too small for me. I can't wait to fit them. 

I can tell my abdomen is flatter. I can tell. But not enough, I can still grab handfuls of fat. But I'm on my way babes. And you are all coming with me. 

you and me. we're in this together now. none of them can stop us now.

...we will make it through somehow. 

Before I launch into this post I want to start off by tying up a few ends. 

Firstly, I want to say hello to any new followers! I looked today and suddenly realised that I have 91 followers now. I'm stunned. Hello, thank you so much for following my blog, please leave a comment and I will follow your blog right back. 

Secondly, I want to say a big thank you to everybody. I really do. I must admit that Andrea's comments threw me wildly. I went to a really low place for a while after reading them. I felt so useless. Reading what she said, well, I'm already miserable, and I know that what I am doing is bad, but if getting a boyfriend and perking up would be enough to snap me out of this, then why wasn't I good enough to do just that? I felt like such a worthless, useless, incompetent mess that I would be better off not existing. I have never known such strong suicidal urges. 

I can't say I'm over it, I can't say I'm not still suicidal. I've been cutting more and more and I can feel the old grip of depression creeping in. But. I've also made myself a plan to lose weight. For now, if I can get a grip on my weight, then I can start to get a grip on other things. For now, I need to focus on one small thing at a time to drag myself through thiss. 

Thirdly, I want to say sorry for my absence. For a while there I really did think I was going to end my life and I didn't want to come here and be talked out of it by anyone. I didn't want to post any sort of message that some people might think to be attention seeking. When I end my life, it will be my choice, and there will be no apologies to anyone. 

At any rate, I return to you all with renewed vigor and determination. Just like the way I've titled this post. This is you and me. We're in this together now. None of them can stop us now. We will make it through somehow. We're fighting a battle that no one can see. That doesn't make it any less real. We are all doing it together. Though we are apart physically, we are all striving for the same thing, we live and breath for the same thing. We are linked together by a common thread that separates us from the rest of the world. And I know for sure that I cannot do this without the knowledge that you are all out there, sending me love, wishing me the best. And I do the same for you all, every second of every day. 

In a strange way, this blog has prolonged my life significantly. This knowledge makes me want to wake up in the morning and give it all another go. And I can't thank you all enough for that. I hope that you all can appreciate that. 

I think this is all I can say for now. I am still struggling with the cutting, and the can of worms that comes with that. I am still somewhat scared and wary of posting anything on this blog because I don't want to read comments like that again. I'm scared by how they affected me and I'm scared of how I may react in the future. When you can no longer trust your one outlet of self expression, everything gets thrown up in the air. 

So I bid you goodbye from this post, with the promise that I will post again, and that like you, each fibre of my being longs to be thin and fears food and the consequences of eating. 

don't care if it hurts, I want to have control.

I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul. 

Mirror, mirror. The unscrupulous bitch that stares back at me is unrecognisable. Silk shirt tucked into high waisted pants and a lanyard with a garish name tag. In the great hullaballoo of figures and colours and ailments rushing by, her image is the one that strikes me. Breathe in. Fiery hatred floods my being as a natural instinct, everything about the way she looks is so utterly repulsive to me. The bulge of her stomach, the way her arms balloon from her short sleeves, the way her voluptuous breasts seem to be bursting past the buttons, the subtle double chin. Hideous. 

Breathe out and stop. The hullaballoo has moved on, and it is only me who remains, staring. All the hatred, the revulsion, the disgust, the torrent of emotion that flooded through me in a river of rage has been stunned into pause. In the rush I had failed to recognise my own reflection. I had directed so much hate towards someone who I thought was a stranger, only to realise I had been looking at myself. How did I become this?

ANDREA!!!! 


I see you are back to commenting on my blog. If my posts upset you, why do you continue to read them? I think your efforts would be better employed doing something you enjoy, such as going out with friends, or undertaking whatever hobbies you may have instead of leaving abusive comments on my posts. 


Do you really expect me to change views that I have held my entire life because someone like you, who I have never met, finds me selfish and stupid (and whatever else you have called me over the years)? 


I know what I'm doing isn't normal. And I can see why you and others may see it as selfish. But you know nothing of my life and how I grew up and my motivations. Not every woman dreams of having a husband and children to cook for. Just as not every person is able to look at food normally. You can't really think that when I starve myself it is some sort of conscious effort to hurt and betray everyone who might care about me and sabotage some vague dream of an idealised family unit. It certainly isn't. Sometimes, it is a coping mechanism that I must do to make it through the day. 


Most of us who have eating disorders are highly intelligent. You obviously don't think so, as you've called me stupid many times now. But most of us get top grades and have highly paid jobs and have high functioning lives and we know more about nutrition than most people who aren't nutritionists. Nothing about ED is about getting nutrition, it's a fear of food, a fear of losing control, a fear of gaining weight that runs in our bones and it's not something that can be changed by telling us to snap out of it. 


Do I like the way I am? No. I'd change many things. And if I could look at food normally, if there was a chance of that, I would. An existence where I don't have to face my worst fear everywhere would be lovely. I would not wish this upon anybody, not even you. For you to think that this is such a simple problem is rather ignorant of you. I don't think you can understand what it's like, not unless you somehow develop an eating disorder. 


What is it that you try to achieve with your comments? Do you hope to inspire me into recovery? Do you want to shame and ridicule me until I fall into a pool of misery and kill myself? I can tell you right now that neither of those things will happen. 


Do you simply want to point out my stupidity and laugh? Feel free to laugh and jeer all you like. But you don't need to be abusive. You don't need to post those comments on my blog. You don't need to read my blog at all. I like to think I've been reasonably civil with you. And you should give me some credit and believe me when I say I'm not a silly little pre-pubescent girl who is online attention seeking. I'm an much older girl, using this as a forum for expressing my thoughts and perhaps meeting people who follow my wavelength. 

too fat for words

The 100 Day Challenge

Stuff taking a break. It's too hard to take a break when all I can think about is losing weight and being so freaking fat. 

I was reading a blog called "Too Fat For Words" and she was talking about this 100 day challenge. 100 days to get to a set of goals. This is just what I need to keep myself motivated. It's a nice way of staying focused. I'm going to Bristol in 20 weeks. That's 140 days. And I do not want to look this fat and ugly when I go. This is awful. I will be lovely and thin for Bristol. 

So if I start on Monday, then I will have about 39 days to spare at the end of the challenge to squeeze a little bit more weight off and get myself sorted itinerary wise. Meanwhile, for the next 100 days, I can focus on my weight and finally do something that I can be proud of.

These are my goals:

1. I currently weigh 125lbs. I want to weigh 90lbs when I leave. I must lose 35lbs.

2. Finish that goddamn paper that I've been working on as long as I can remember

3. Be able to do the splits on both legs. 

4. Book hotels for the week before I start work in Bristol. 

5. GAP BETWEEN MY THIGHS EVEN IF IT KILLS ME!!!! 

6. Fit into size 6 jeans. (NZ size 6. This is the smallest size you can buy here without getting children's sizes.)

At 90lbs I want:

1. To be able to see 4 ribs without stretching up or sucking in.

2. To be able to see my spine easily when I bend over. 

3. To have my hip bones stick out.

4. For there to be an almighty gap between my thighs. 

5. To be able to see my arm muscles. 

6. Concave stomach. 

And I will do this in 100 days. In just over 14 weeks. That's 2.5lbs each week. I will do this. I will do this. 

laughing with a mouth of blood

Just like an amnesiac, trying to get my senses back. 

Oh where did they go?

Being in psychiatry isn't doing my mental health any favours. I can feel myself losing my grip on absolute space and it is really scaring me. 

Currently I have a patient who is about the same age as me and has anorexia with binge-purge subtype. It's so weird. I feel like I should ask to be taken off her treatment team. It's having a weird affect on me. It makes me want to binge and binge and that scares me because I can't purge. It feels so strange because when I sit and listen to her explain her logic and the way she thinks, it's exactly the same way that I think. 

In a way, I'm jealous that she's so skinny and so able to starve herself and binge and purge. I want to be her. But at the same time, she's so ill. She's got a NG tube. She's got the biggest team of doctors and psychologists and eating disorder specialists and key workers and occupational therapists and more looking after her. We have to book out the special big room to have her treatment meetings. 

What's almost more frightening is how much everyone knows about the tips and tricks of ED. All the tips, everything I've ever read on how to fool people, how to hide things, every single thing and more has been mentioned. Things that I thought was secret to the pro ana community, they're not secret. Everyone knows about them, and in the inpatient centre here, they know how to spot them and stop them and punish them. 

And it's not just her. There is a patient who cuts. And everyone gets so up in arms about it. But I look at them and I realise that I cut deeper, more frequently and for more years of my life than this person. I have no right to treat them or to tell them to stop. It's a bizarre feeling  and it makes me wonder how sick I am and how deep it is in me. 

I think working in psychiatry is making me more sick. It makes me see things that I do that I wasn't aware of before. And it has forced me to face the fact that I am sick. Because there are people less sick than me getting intensive treatment. The only difference is that I  have learnt to hide it. 

warm and fuzzy and highly delusional

"How are you? Come in, have a seat. You're looking well. That is a lovely dress, very fitted. Your hair is looking very nice, it's sitting very well. What shoes are you wearing? Lift your feet higher, I can't see them. Oh, they're very cute."

He has an amazing way of making me feel like an absolute doll. Even if only for a moment. But I must say, I've never had that many compliments strung in a row. I've only been in his office for a few seconds and I'm already getting to feeling pretty cute. This is the highly delusional part.

After a long conversation about other people and our childhoods and stuff that was stressing him out. Then there was that one awkward moment when he asked me what my weaknesses were and I refused to tell him. But all things considered, I walked out feeling pretty warm and fuzzy.

He hasn't told me that I look too thin for a long time. I think he's really happy that I'm not losing weight. I don't want to upset him. But if I have anything to do with my weight, he's going to be upset soon. I'm starting to feel more and more guilty about my weight loss attempts. It upsets him. I don't want to worry him. And he really is so very good to me.

But I need to lose weight. This is an internal battle that I can't win either way. I've resolved that I'm not going to use laxies on weekdays. This makes me feel better because if he knew I was using laxies...I don't even know what would happen. So, if hypothetically he knew about it, he'd be pleased about me cutting down on them. And this makes me feel better. Somehow. Twisted logic that I don't really understand even if I'm using it.

Weight loss plan today was an utter disaster. Ended up having a huge lunch with a friend of mine. In my defense, she is going to Ghana tomorrow and I won't see her for a long time. But tomorrow, IT ALL BEGINS! I swear.

BIG thank yous to Jackie, Fat Piggy and strive4perfection for your lovely supportive comments on my last post. You guys really did help me calm down out of my panic. And so I made a plan of what I'm going to do. And now I feel much more calm.

And I see that I have 47 followers! What! How did that happen!!! HELLO my new followers!!! Sorry that you had to catch me in the middle of a breakdown, but it must make these posts more interesting somehow right?