Anonymous said: You so muchly deserve to be happy. I read your story, and it made me cry so hard. No one should have to experience anything like that, and I am truly sorry that you had to, but I am truly happy that your life is now on track, and I hope it stays that way for you, because you deserve happiness.
It will stay this way, because I know better now. It’s a mixture of getting older, and just learning through a lot of crisis situations that it’s not worth it. It’s not worth anything. Life is fucking hard. It is for everyone in some way. But I can improve it, we all can, by trying our hardest to squelch the negativity inside ourselves.
Anonymous said: I have been checking your blog almost every day and I am so happy to hear that you are doing better!
This was beautiful to read, and if you see this: How are you doing, anon? I hope you’re well, and thank you for keeping me in your thoughts :)
Me too! To like all of that! Except I get drug tested so I can’t smoke :/
Oh this makes me so happy!! I was hoping to come back here and see that some people had taken the same turn as me. It’s long past due but it feels good, doesn’t it?
Hi! I gained 30 lbs and haven’t purged in over a month, before that I hadn’t purged in 2 months, before that it was like 3 weeks or so, anyway, point is, I am free. Moving on.
I am not happy with my current body size but I try really hard just not to weigh or look at it too much. I want to lose weight but do it without snapping back to old behaviors. I’m not sure how to yet, so I’m just not. Because I know I’m not quite ready and that’s fine.
I decided to grow out my nails as a sort of project, since purging always fucked them up. It worked! And gave me something arbitrary to obsess over instead of picking at my body so much.
I also smoke cannabis every single day and I believe it is the reason this attempt at recovery has been so successful. Well, weed and my own determination to finally be rid of this delusion.
It’s still a struggle. Especially lately, the thoughts are resurfacing but I have learned to fight them off with less and less difficulty each time. I haven’t quit binging entirely, lol, which is why I have ballooned but I DON’T CARE.
this song keeps me going tbh
Wtf did I just watch? WtFFFFF is an “Ana Angel”? Fuck you bitch.
Hey, I don’t know how many people actively read my blog, so this post may be in complete vain but it’s worth a shot. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. It’s not as if no one’s willing, but anyone I have tried to talk to (boyfriend, family members) doesnt really understand. Okay, so, some background: My younger sister used to be very thin. She took dance until she was about 14 or 15, so she are whatever she liked but maintained a really slender figure. She was a lot smaller than me, I weighed 210 and she was probably 110-120, and constantly made fun of me. I started losing weight around the time she quit dance. She continued her diet, but because she washt exercising, over about 2-3 years probably gained 50 lbs. It wasn’t until last fall, when I was at my lowest, both weight-wise and emotionally, that she decided to start being healthier. At first it was no big deal, as I was still maybe 30 lbs less than her, I worked out more than her, ate less and more healthily than she did, etc. It was like this until a couple months ago. She found out she had a thyroid problem and got on meds, and also became vegetarian, starter being very vocal about her caloric intake/weight loss. Meanwhile, I continued to gain. So, now I’m at this point where I am bigger than her which feels AWFUL. I feel like I’m back in my childhood, the fat sister. I no longer feel safe. She is probably my biggest trigger right now. I have a huge desire to put an end to my misery and just completely drown in my ED behaviors so I can become smaller than her as quickly as possible. But, even though I am not emotionally/mentally in a recovery state, my weight Gail has resulted in a lot of physical benefits. I don’t know how to handle this situation at all and I really need some help. I can’t control what she is doing, and that makes me feel very frantic. I deem the only thing over which I have control is my weight, so I’m inclined to just focus on that so I can feel safe again. I’m also very upset because, put very immaturely, she is copying me. I am vegetarian and have been for years because I care about the animals, and she just adopted this lifestyle 2 months ago and is telling everyone that its been a year and that she has the same reasoning as me, though she only did it to have a reason to restrict her diet. She told my close friend that she has the same problems as me, specifically that she chews and spits her food, which is something I don’t even do anymore and if I did, it wouldn’t really be my biggest ED problem. She even started wearing some of the things I used to wear. She used to call me a “bulimic slut”, persecute me for swearing and leaving our religion (the insults were brutal and relentless) and I’ve found out that she is sending nudie pictures to people she’s met online and doesn’t go to church/believe in the religion anymore. She tells people that she is a “free thinker” and “open-minded”, when she is the most close-minded, judgmental person I have ever known. So, on top of all this, she is basically cultivating a little eating disorder for herself. I hate to say it because its so unhealthy, but bulimia is MY thing. Obviously it’s not a good thing. It’s not something that I want to define me, but it is MY struggle, not hers. I am the one who got teased by every single person in my family, I am the one who has to deal with that pain. I’m the one who has never been thin. It’s MY problem, it’s not hers. She has no reason to do this. She only got fat because of her thyroid issue. Honestly, I would feel better about her weight loss had she just taken her meds and eaten normally. Instead, she’s eating 50 calorie dinners and being SO VOCAL about her workouts and weight loss and her newest obsession with vegetarianism/thigh gaps/hip bones/visible ribs. It’s so hard for me to be around her, and I’ve just moved back in with my mom, so she is now around me 80% of my life. I woke up this morning and she is in the kitchen, measuring out her berries. I come out of my room again and she’s in front of the mirror, working out. Here I am, with this new fat body. I just feel a total relapse coming on and I don’t know what to do. If any of you have ever dealt with a member of your family getting an eating disorder, whether its a genuine one or a really annoying proana type deal, please share with me how you dealt with it. If you haven’t had this happen, and just have done helpful advice, I’d also appreciate that. Thank you :/
Anonymous said: Just checking up on you. Please, please don't hurt yourself.
I’m sorry you were checking up on me :/
Anonymous said: Me again. Please be good to you. Death is finality, but it is not a solution. You are better than hurtful words and actions. People try to bring you down to what they're feeling. Idk what to say. I just don't want you to die. You have a right to a future just please give yourself that chance. I was there. Just please give yourself a chance.
I wish for death. This life is too much. Nothing is getting better everything is getting worse. There is no future.
Anonymous said: how tall are you?
Anonymous said: I check here every day.
Probably have no followers left but anyway, I’m alive. Unfortunate as it is, I am alive. Not because I want to be, I’m honestly here because of my own missteps. Shortly after writing that post, I was prescribed Klonopin for my anxiety and Ambien for my insomnia. 300 mg Ambien, 30 mg Klonopin. I didn’t mean to do what I did, but it happened anyway. I took them all, and cut my throat, and went to bed. I didn’t feel any pain. I don’t remember it, at least. It all seems like a nightmare. I remember the blood. I remember feeling desperate, but I do not know why I did that. I used a cleaver, the blade from a vegetable peeler, a razor, and a pair of scissors. I have the most hideous, embarrassing scar on my neck. I cry every day. It’s horrible looking, and it will never fade. It’s lumpy and crooked and red. It hurts still and this happened a while ago. I can no longer walk with any sort of pride, be it put-on or otherwise. My head is always hanging. The stress, the medication, my lifestyle in general have caught up to me. I look old. My skin is dull and dry. I’m not beautiful. I have never thought, in the moment, that I was beautiful. But I see now, that I was. At least, I was pretty. And now I’m not.
The first days in the ward are totally foggy. I was so tired. Additional to the ambien detox, they had injected me with Ativan because apparently I was being combative. The psych ward knew of my problems, and I wasn’t allowed in the bathroom within an hour of eating. But I threw up after an hour anyway, I don’t know why. After getting out the most horrible spell of fatigue came over me. I tried to work out. But I couldn’t perform to my usual level and that killed me. I tried to focus on recovery, but I kept failing. Getting fatter, getting weaker, this new ugly scar and no memory of why I’d done it, didn’t help. A week after getting out I started having flashbacks. Such terror, standing in front of the mirror, cloths soaked with blood, carving away at my neck. But I still don’t know why.
My sister’s healthy lifestyle has turned into a full on weight loss craze. She goes around bragging about her 40 calorie dinners. Talks about thigh gaps. She’s losing weight. Just as I’d finally become the thinner sister. Sigh.
I thought this would help me, serve as some sort of motivation, but it didn’t. The fatigue was horrible. I slept for hours and hours, when I did get up the courage to leave the house, I couldn’t work out the way I wanted to and that made me want to die. I moved in with my aunt, who was bulimic, so no getting away with that. But still binging, because, well…
Got a call. I was being summoned to court. The EMT who had picked me up on the morning of the incident had filed a report against me for assault. Class A Misdemeanor. Punishable by up to $5000 in fines and a year in jail. I didn’t even remember it…I was on pills…I was sick…I didn’t know it was real life…why would they do this to me?
Got my wisdom teeth taken out. Told myself in the days leading up to it that I could eat without shame, because I wouldn’t be able to eat properly soon. The first day I consumed a tub of ice cream. And two the next day, and that kept going on for 6 days. I healed, got up from my bed, and really took a look at myself. +30 lbs.
Fat, scarred, ugly, crazy looking failure of a person. That scar. My neck was not bad. It was one part of me that was not bad. It was slender and smooth and I went and fucked it up. People will look at me and judge me. I can’t go outside. I am so scared of people but its worse to be alone. Something inside me has changed. This time last year I wanted to go to Europe and have adventures by myself. Now, I cannot imagine it. It would be horrible. Everything is fear now. Everything is hate. I hate my body more than ever. I hate myself even more than that. I want to die so much. It’s all I want. But I am worried because I can’t have another mishap. I had done reading, and almost every form of suicide has some sort of fallacy. I could jump in front of a train and live. That’s so scary. So, for now, I am stagnant. I must lose this weight though. Luckily, throwing up is the absolute least of my problems, now.
It’s gotten to be way too much. Every single day welcomes a new pile of seemingly unsolvable stresses. New things I have to do, new sadnesses, new failures, new reasons I’m not supposed to be here. I have been obsessing over it for about a month now, making plans, setting out precautionary measures and trying to get my affairs in order. Ideally, I’d like to get it done next week, on Friday, there are a few loose ends that may take a little more tying, but the latest I am prepared to wait is the end of March, when I get kicked out of my newest place (bulimia related). You know, I have lived through a lot. I have talked myself off the ledge many, many times. Always giving myself a reason, something to look forward to, even if very small. I’ve watched all of my hopes and dreams slowly escape my grasp. My hope has all together died, and I am at peace with my decision. It’s the only thing with which I am at peace, actually. I am breaking up with my boyfriend as soon as he leaves here. I can’t break up with my family but I am going to just distance myself quickly. They don’t call me unless I call them anyway. I just wanted to come here because I haven’t posted in a while and I’d like the record to be out there. I know people like to poke around in these situations. I will also try to delete all of the dumb, skeletal pictures. They mean nothing to me. My posts will stay. They are truth. I don’t want my family gaining access to my account and deleting any of this, it’s all true, and if anyone is going to poke around they should know. Thank you all for being involved in this funny life of mine. I love you.