Where has my poetry gone?

I am an English major. More than that, I am a writer. My life is not my own unless I can write about it.

Perhaps I haven't been reading enough lately. Who am I kidding? I read EVERY day, nearly every blog I follow. Then what's wrong with me? Why is it so difficult lately, nigh on impossible, to reach inside and find the poetry that lives there? Pull it out and forge it into words so that others may see what lies before my eyes...feel the ache that grips my heart, my mind...God, I feel more trapped in myself than I have in so long, and yet the angst, the anguish, the agony...they're absent (at least in this moment).

It's just so frustrating, you know? I am only free when I write. Only then am I temporarily loosed from the frigid chains that otherwise shackle me to this "reality" that is still so unreal... Ugh. My lack of literary discipline disgusts me.

We'll just go ahead and round up to 300.

Today's breakfast was not a fail, though I wouldn't necessarily call it a success, either.

* 1/2 English muffin, with margarine, Splenda, and cinnamon. Chewed and spit. Not worth it.
* One egg. Eaten in its entirety. Yolk broke, or else it would've just been the white. Meh.
* The other 1/2 of that English muffin, eaten with the egg.
* Coffee. Win! Calorie free. Beautiful, perfect coffee. You never betray me.

...Stop there? That would've been prudent. I was still...my mouth was still restless. You know the feeling. It can also be called the munchies...it can be the deadly prequel to an unexpected binge. "I just want one more bite...of *something*..."
It can also be called by its common name, since we're all honest here... WEAKNESS.

* 50 calories of peanut butter. This is actually somewhat of a tiny success in the face of potential fail...For those of you who find peanut butter to be one of your own vices: YOU guys know what I'm talking about. 50 calories of peanut butter is NOTHING. Two tablespoons (suggested serving size) can total anywhere between 130 and 220, depending on the brand and type. My itty bitty spoonful was probably even less than 50, but I prefer to round up. Better safe than sorry, right?

* 6 M&Ms. I have no idea how many calories are in 6 M&Ms. I guessed approximately 40. They're just regular ones...no peanuts or anything.

* A two inch square of homemade pineapple cherry cake... I know what the ingredients are, but not in what amounts. It's made with crushed pineapple and its juice, cherry pie filling, sugar (naturally), flour, and margarine. Chewed and spit all of it, but I tend to involuntarily swallow the tiniest bit every couple of bites still...Getting better, though. It almost hurts my throat muscles to do it correctly, getting every last bit of it out, but I know it's worth it. Of course, there are some things I've given up on trying to c&s... peanut butter is one of them. Chocolate is really difficult too, but I've done it. Yogurt is nearly impossible. Meh.

So I'm going to round up to 300. This is why I don't consider this morning a complete fail. Half an hour on the elliptical and it's gone. As if it never happened. So that's fine with me.

I think we have another lunch date today with another of the bf's old friends. Hm. Fun fun.

Ah, geez...I'm being beckoned by the littlest princess over here. Apparently it's time to play the matching game. :) For those of you who have taken the time to comment and ask questions, thank you...I promise I'll come back and answer you. Just hard (to do a great number of things) when a three-year-old is directly in your ear, whining the same phrase over and over and over and OVER again: "NOW do you want to play, Mommy? Now? Now? What about now? Are you almost DONE already, Mommy?"

*sigh...* :P She's the light of my life, this little one. And also my biggest stress. Ha. Okay. Second biggest. ;)

Good day to all of you, lovelies. Write again ASAP.

<3

Mmm...Now that's some bangin' coffee...

I'm sorry for not updating earlier than this. It seems that we're all booked up as far as lunches and social appearances and scheduled fun for the little one.

In case you were curious, I made it through all of 23 hours of my first fast. I ended it with a cup of green beans (they're all I could think about ALL day long...) and a salad with no dressing, just some worcestershire (about 5 cals per serving). I don't think I've ever eaten green beans more delicious. Garlic pepper and onion salt. Steamed. They were...amazing. I gave in (as I'm apt to do) right before bed and ate a friggin' 100 calorie Quaker granola bar. Still left off at approximately 300 calories. I'm pretty happy with that. A whole day of not eating. I did it. I can do it. I'll do it again.

Not yet, though. Today, I'm giving my metabolism a break from starvation and getting back to my 1,000 cal a day plan for a bit. Today, I'm already up to about 700, and it's 3:44...I'm not sure how I feel about that. We went to La Fogata, a Mexican place, for lunch today. I checked out the menu before we even left the house to plan out what I'd eat, of course. You walk into a place like that and all you see and smell is cheese. Baking cheese. Heat lamps over simmering, shimmering, greasy cheese. And fried tortilla chips. And REfried beans. Enchiladas. Tacos. All of them smothered in disgustingly fatty sauces and toppings... NO thank you. I worked too hard yesterday (fast) and today (cardio) to screw it all up for something so temporary as Mexican food. :P

I had grilled shrimp and vegetable kabobs. No cheese, sour cream, guacamole, chips, beans, tortillas, or rice anywhere NEAR me. Brought my total to about 500 for the day, including oatmeal and apple and (yikes) four bites of a pancake this morning. Then I came home, had one Clementine orange (20), half an apple...and a cookie. That ONE cookie was not worth it. It was 46 calories. For one square inch of butter, flour, and sugar? Not even any chocolate in that thing. Not worth it. Won't make that mistake again.

My elliptical activity this morning totaled out at about 300 calories burned. That was just enough to cover the pancake and the oatmeal, so I was satisfied.

So. Yesterday's fast was a success. That's a good feeling. I weighed myself this morning, and it was back down to 132, just as I had hoped. The binge from the previous two days has been erased. NEVER...again. Ugh. It feels like the uncontrollable glutton that scarfed down all that holiday food was an entirely different person...She certainly wasn't me. Doesn't feel like it, anyway.

I wanted to thank all of you very much for reading, as well as for your support and well-wishing while I fought my way through my very first fast. :) I see it as a definite beginning to a new era for my ultimate plan to reach my goal weight... 127 by January 26th... then 122 by the end of February... easy enough. Yes, I'm taking it relatively slow, by Ana's traditional standards. But I have to be careful...especially now, as my daughter is becoming more and more observant every day. Chewing and spitting may not be an option when she's at home anymore...she noticed my napkin the other night and nearly (audibly) pointed it out. I can't have her giving me away like that, inadvertently as it may have been.

Ah well, I've written enough for now. I'm sorry if this entry was totally boring. :P All the same, I felt compelled to post an update, for those of you who were curious.

I wish the best to you all, and as always...stay strong; stay beautiful.

<3

Still going (strong?)...

It's 3:36 PM.

I still have not eaten.

Not a single bite of food has passed my lips. Coffee and water. No sugar. No milk, no cream, no nothing.

I have been tested, and I will continue to be tested.

In fact, my daughter sits right next to me, lapping away at an ice cream cone covered in nuts and dipped in chocolate. Ha, this is great. I'm going to take a picture.

There. I'll post it in a sec.

Eggs benedict and muffins this morning. Not for me.

Cheddar baked hashbrowns with a crispy corn flake topping, dripping in melted cheese. Church's fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. Chocolate truffles and yogurt covered pretzels. Ice cream cone. Twizzlers candy and Reese's peanut butter cups (my absolute favorite)... All of these things have been offered to me.

I have politely refused every single one of them.

I'll sit here and sip my coffee, thank you. My goosebumps and jitters are proof of my dedication to this fast.

I know it hasn't been that long. I won't compare myself to anyone else, because this is my first fast. I have never been able to do it before, and I'm doing it now.

Thin is worth it.

Of course, if we wanted to get technical, we could get into the fact that, deep in the back of my mind, I know that complete starvation is not the quickest, most effective way to lose fat. I know this. Starvation mode is the enemy. The next few meals I eat will need to be entirely fat free, sugar free, if possible, so as not to provide my body with ANYthing it can turn into fat. It will try. It will receive the food and think, "The famine is over! Yes! BUT...just in case she starts starving again, let's go ahead and put all of THIS food aside (in the form of stored fat, of course) to use as energy later." Yes, I just personified my metabolism and gave it a voice. Deal. :P

I realize that I will probably weigh a pound less tomorrow, mostly due to fluid loss and the work of my good friend, Ex-Lax. This fast isn't about weight loss. It's about control. Control over self. Will power in the face of absolute temptation, through hunger, fatigue, and pain, both mental and physical. When I get through this I will be stronger than I was yesterday. That is what this fast is about.

My first major hunger pains have just begun. Stomach acid is churning up into my chest, burning, screaming at me to eat, just eat SOMEthing, ANYthing. I won't. I am stronger than that, stronger than my body's whims and demands.

The two-day binge that ended last night has left its mark. The sharp hipbones I had uncovered with the last ten pounds lost are obviously still visible, but not nearly as angular and pronounced as they were a week ago. I can't stand to gain. I didn't even weigh myself, I won't. Not until I've had a chance to undo the damage I've done. Funny, how we do this to ourselves. It's as if I live for self-destruction during the binge days, just so that I'll have something to fix when the weight comes back on. How sick and twisted can I get, here?

The friend's house in which I now sit is indeed filled with delicious foods, but I have survived the dinner and dessert and am now content to sit here in my pain, happy with my self-restraint. Yes. Twisted, indeed. There's a woman here a few years older than myself who happens to have suffered from bulimia in the past, but has come out on the other side to live a happy and healthy life. She still suffers the consequences, of course: issues with her stomach and throat and teeth, but she's happy with her recovered self. She's slightly chunky, I guess, maybe what America would consider average. I watched her eat today, happy, enjoying every savory bite of the lunch she had prepared, and I looked down at my red bracelet, wondering where I'll be after ten years of my ED. She's happy. She's a mother. She eats, and doesn't worry about it. Huh.

I've probably written too much. What can I say? Distraction is the key, I think, to a successful fast, especially during these, the difficult afternoon hours.

Thanks for reading, as always. <3

Fasting slowly...

Today's fast is going well.

Granted, it's only about 11 AM. Still. That's nearly halfway through the day. One bottle of water and a strongish cup of coffee and I'm set for the afternoon.

Good thing, too, since we'll be leaving to a friend's house for lunch any minute now.

Woke up this morning to the tantalizing aroma of biscuits and eggs benedict in the kitchen. I resisted with flying colors.

I just thought I'd provide you all with an update, in case you were curious as to how my starving was going. :P

I wish you all well in your separate endeavors all over the world, wherever you may be, in your ever-admirable quest for perfection. We shall have it.

<3

Ana's waiting...

She wants to share with me her secrets,
she says.
I swear to her that I'm listening, please...
but she softly shakes her head.
No...
Her whisper is faint, her perfect face hidden
by cascading locks that float about as if tossed by the waters of an untouched stream.
Effortlessly, she lifts one finger to her lips,
and I find myself in awe of a beauty words will never convey.
Delicate, fragile, and yet glowing with power and grace,
she steps forward, placing one slender hand over my heart.
You are not ready.
My chest aches with the words that wish to escape, but cannot...
not here, not in the presence of the goddess, herself.
She is a lithe, glimmering fairy of untold possibility,
draped gracefully, as a queen, in her elegant silks of the deepest ruby red.
I am an imperfect soul, forever reaching for all that she is,
but still so naive and foolish and selfish, like a child beside her.
I want all of you, she whispers. You must be entirely mine...
Only then...
Will I be yours.
My knees are weak beneath me, my hollow stomach quivers with the liquid butterflies she has incited within me, and my voice quavers as I tremble,
and she is gone...
...before I can even make my promise.
Please, come back...Ana, please...
I...
...will just have to show her.

Walkin' the walk is a WHOLE different story..

Fuck. This. Shit.


Sorry.


I'm obviously frustrated. Painfully so.

It doesn't help that my computer plays two roles at the moment, either of which is apt to take over without prior warning.

My darling little girl *LOVES* herself some Dora the Explorer. I don't mind that she watches it; she's learned more Spanish from that show than from her highly priced daycare. It's just that I need to write...and often. It's how I manage to avoid SCREAMING when I feel like I've felt all day today.

Ugh...my fingers look so fat right now...Here, I'll take a picture.

There. To be posted.

Anyway... Yeah. Tomorrow, I'll be fasting. I'll admit that I've never done it, as I tend to cave halfway through the day when I start to get dizzy. I work out every single day (except for on this fucking vacation! God DAMN it!) and I can't be fainting at the Y. They'll kick me out. Unless I can get around the tunnel vision during a fast, I have to stay away from it at home. But here... Here, it's 14 degrees outside, sometimes lower, sometimes higher... and we hardly get out. I hardly get up and on that elliptical. The little one hardly leaves me alone long enough to get even a hundred calories worth of cardio... Ugh. I hate this sedentary bullshit. I can't handle it. But...it *does* have its upside. I'm going to fast.

I shouldn't have a problem with fainting, as I'm not burning many calories just walking up and down the stairs and around the house. I do believe we have a scheduled lunch date with one of the bf's old friends, but I can easily say that my stomach is upset. Not a problem. I HAVE to do this. Lemme tell ya why (quickly, unfortunately, as my computer is about to be taken from me yet again...AND someone [who happens to be three years old and ridiculously rambunctious...no names mentioned] has just had a potty-training accident and needs help changing)...

We all know what happened yesterday. Binge-o-rama. Eat, eat, eat some more. I promised myself that I'd let it go, not kill myself over it today. I've had some trouble with that. I can't just let myself off the hook like that, as wonderful as that may seem. No, no. Not possible. I simply can't overlook a day in which I more than likely undid an entire two weeks worth of restricting. At least that's how it feels. I could be overreacting. I have a tendency to do that...don't we all? Whatever...yesterday sucked. So I resolved to make today a better day.

You wanna guess what happened today?

I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count.

Fuck yes, I ate. I only worked out for about twenty minutes, at which point my daughter apparently found it impossible to leave me alone any longer. I gave up, a little pissed, mostly frustrated, and proceeded to lie on the couch for about an hour, head pounding, choking back tears, hating myself and my weakness and this disorder that defines me, that controls me, this "lifestyle" I "chose." They all tell you to get out while you still can. They say it'll take hold of you and you won't be able to break away, and you'll wish you had stepped back from the edge while you had the presence of mind to do so. Of course, I have to make my own mistakes to learn from them, and that is why I'm here, I suppose. One of the reasons, at any rate. That is why I moved out at 17 to become hopelessly addicted to drugs and live with a man who beat me daily... until I was rescued by a man who ended up cheating on me in secret for nearly a year but *only* after I'd had his child and decided I'd have to marry him because of it...God, I'm glad I didn't marry him. Guess that means I started to wise up a little by that point, huh?

ANYway...sorry for the rant. I do that.

So today, as I lie on the couch facing away from my boyfriend on his computer, away from my daughter as she used *my* computer, I thanked the powers that be for the both of them. THEY are the only reasons I haven't killed myself by now.

Yeah. I know.

This thought struck me like a knife in the back, unexpected and deep. Suicide. I've entertained the idea so many times, and I've seen the question in black and white..."Have you ever considered killing yourself or others?" ...checked the "no" box on so many psychological evaluations, each and every time knowing better than giving them that info. They've got their hands full with all of the other shit that's wrong with me, let's not give them *that* fuel for their fires...

I realized this, though, as I wallowed in my own self-pity and loathing, feeling empty and so wretchedly, filthily full at the same time. I...would've done it by now. If it weren't for the two of them. Wow.

As it is, I don't ever let myself think of it *because* of them. I'm all she's got, and I will *never* hurt him that way. That is why I'm here.

Huh. Anyway. I made the decision to start a fast tomorrow. Apparently, this decision meant (somewhere in my subconscious) that I should go ahead and load up (A-fucking-gain) on everything I won't be allowed to have tomorrow, or ever again. Yeah. EVER? Again? "Ever" is almost as bad as "never." Both are very dangerous words, and should be used with extreme caution and much consideration, lest you be proven a liar in the future by your own actions.

*sigh* Ha. My babe just looked over at my screen a moment ago and commented... "Wow. That's a lot." Yeah. I write a lot. If you've made it this far into the post, thank you.

I should go for now. I'm needed. I have so much more to say. I have so much more within me. I've tried my damnedest all day long to cover it up with cup after cup of caffeinated beverage... then food, both fully consumed and chewed, then spit... then alcohol, which is nearly always a mistake. Laxatives have worked about half their magic on me today, and judging by the sharpness of the pains in my abdomen, I'll be enjoying the rest of that triple dose by midnight or so tonight. :/

Thank you, my lovely readers. I adore you.

<3

Free days don't exist.

Today was about as close to a "free day" as any of us could ever imagine, and yet the way I feel now is as far from free as any of us could ever feel.

I ate. I was obligated to eat, and could not hide behind Ana's protective shadow as I sat in the very middle of a very large dinner table. Christmas dinner, a few days late, with all the perils of a first Christmas dinner plus leftovers to take home for the week to come. *sigh...*

I managed to eat only two bites of the potatoes, the smallest roll I could find, and a bite of beans, and filled the rest of my plate with tons of salad with vinegar dressing so that I'd still be eating while everyone else was...Can't finish too soon, of course.

Then...dessert. I felt a little fail after eating at all, and that was my own undoing. I've told myself again and again and it still doesn't seem to matter. "Don't beat yourself up. It *always* ends in disaster. Snowball effect. Remember this for next time." 'Cept I don't remember it. Not in the face of dessert.

I just wish I could get to the point that I no longer *want* food. I know I'll get there. It's there, sometimes. It peeks out from behind a corner, stepping a toe out and testing the waters, seeing if I deserve its services, its assistance. That desire to AVOID food entirely. To where I only want to eat when I know that I must do so in order to survive. Not for pleasure. Not for enjoyment. Nothing. Food: use only in emergency situations.

Ah, I'll get there. For now...I'll just suck, I guess.

So I ate. Probably about 2000 fucking calories. Oh yes. There's a bomb for ya. FUCK. Yep. An f-bomb. Binge-TAStic.

Chocolate. Brownies. Fucking almonds, salted cashews, and CAKE. More chocolate? SURE. I'd love to undo every bit of restriction I've endured for the past TWO YEARS.

It must be the leggings. See, I have this pair of fantastic tight black leggings. Hannah Montana, HA! Who woulda thunk it? Her clothing line has some pretty cute stuff.

So I'm wearing these leggings with a somewhat baggy top, knee high leather black boots, my hair all done up so you can see both my stars trailing down behind my ear and the eye of Horus at the base of my neck. I love those tattoos. Subtly sexy, edgy, but still small enough to get away with 'em at family gatherings.

I look GOOD. For the first time in ages, I actually thought I looked great. Could be that the scale's reading this morning provided me with an extra dose of confidence... 131 again. Down from 134 two days ago. I know, water weight. Whatever. We all know that we live for the numbers, and any time they go down, my mood goes up. Such is the way things are.

Regardless of the reason for my slightly elevated mood, I felt confident. Like maybe... stupid... maybe I could afford to eat ONE brownie. You fat cow, did you REALLY forget your inescapable propensity to BINGE? It's always there, lurking, and it doesn't take much to let it in.

I let it in. Boy, did I let it in hardcore.

2000. That's an estimate. Just fine for a normal person, right? That's the average recommended amount... Arbitrary number...Fuck.

I've promised myself that, since this was the last time I'll be around this food (except for the leftovers, which I will try to avoid entirely) for nearly a year, that I will move on from this experience with a lesson learned. That is all. I could spend a week or more hating myself for this mother of a binge, but I won't do that. It's counterproductive, likely to cause more damage than the calories themselves, and I won't do it. I will not weigh myself in the morning. I will not weigh myself the next day. On the third day, I will have lost whatever I have gained as a result of this day, and life will continue and the world will have kept turning and I will not die...as a result...of this day.

Just won't be a habit, is all.

Thank you for listening to this rant. I appreciate your attention to my nonsense. ;)

I hope all of you lovely, lovely creatures have had a better day than my own. Time to put the little sweetheart down for her night time story telling...she loves to read. :) Here's to a better day tomorrow.

<3

Distractions of the inkish persuasion...

I need a sketch book. I thought about purchasing one right before we left Texas, but decided against it as I was positive my car insurance would certainly draft out of my account before I had a chance to put anything else in there. Can't do that. NSF fees are upwards of $32 a pop. No thanks, I'm good.

A paper napkin would probably serve my purposes well, just so long as it isn't covered in patterns of merry little Santa figures or bright red and green poinsettia petals/leaves...Kinda hard to draw on those.

Art has always distracted me from...well, anything I desired at the time. Troubles with the geography teacher? Draw a picture. Fiending for some meth while you sit in health class? Draw a picture. Trying to think of excuses as to where you were last night so your psycho drug-addict boyfriend doesn't beat the living shit out of you? Well...I probably wouldn't have been able to distract myself from that. Those parts of my high school memories are so effectively blurred by the natural process of repression that I often wonder if what I *do* recall is truth or my imagination. More than likely a mixture of both.

Either way, I realized today that I haven't given my artistic side much of a chance to work its magic on my eating disorder. Why not? I've tried crazier things before.

Today, we'll be headed over to the boyfriend's grandmother's house for somewhat of a make-up Christmas dinner. As you may know from a few of my previous entries, we were pretty well snowed in for most of Christmas eve and Christmas day. Meh. I saw it as a good out when it came to the meal I dreaded, but I did miss seeing everyone. Today, we shall get our chance to catch up with the relatives...and all of their delicious culinary concoctions. Oh, joy.

Tattoo time is approaching quickly. I'll need to have more than a rough sketch by mid-January, and I haven't even come up with a solid outline. While the buffet table lies laden with cookies, brownies, peppermint bark (talk about your MMMmmm), mashed potatoes, corn, ham, beans, potatoes of another variety, I'm sure, breads of all different kinds, all warm and slathered in melting butter...Cranberries and stuffing and green beans and hopefully...if I'm lucky... plenty of salad on which I can quickly fill my growling stomach in attempt to dissuade it from further ravenous displays of weakness. *sigh*

May Isis keep me.

<3

The obsession lives.

No, not the obsession you'd figure, though I don't blame you for a moment if you guessed *that* one first, if you follow me at all.

This hellish hole in which I most often find myself now is preceded by a much earlier, much deeper, more passionate love...hard to imagine, huh? Before food was an enemy, before the mirror told me lies and I became weak enough to let the numbers rule my beautiful consciousness...I was healthy. Shit, was I healthy.

Three of my six tattoos are dedicated to my love of ancient Egypt. I am completely and entirely convinced of the fact that I spent at least one of my previous lives amongst those amazing people, their gods and goddesses...Isis herself graces my left arm, and her beloved Osiris shall join her in time. Ink costs serious dinero. How else shall I express my seemingly innate adoration (indeed, an obsession) with all of it... I'm such a dork. I'm talking goosebumps down both my arms and hairs on end all down my back...just watching a National Geographic special on Tutankhamen's life and (speculation about) his untimely death. Big. Dork.

I can't stay long this evening. It's late, and my daughter will surely be waking me earlier than I'd like in the morning. All the same, I thought I'd share a bit of what's on my mind this evening, as I contemplate images of Seshat and Pakhet and Hathor as they shall appear in my next half-sleeve...Coming soon, to a somewhat skinny girl near you. ;)

Stay tuned for photos...and as always...

Stay well, my lovelies.

700...

This...is...success.

Here I sit quietly with my tiny mini-computer on my lap, beside a tree still lit as if Christmas is still coming. My daughter's voice and the aroma of sweet, chocolate baked goods fill the early evening atmosphere in a warm house, finally safe from snow. I realize now that the incessant pressing of my tongue against the inner sides of my teeth is causing me pain, but not until after the pain has been caused. I ponder this strange (but somewhat familiar) phenomenon for a moment...and let it go back to doing what it does when I restrict more than usual.

The outer sides of my tongue raw from the sharp edges of nescient molars, I sit in silent elation. 700. This may seem like a lot. After a few consecutive days of slippery slopes and embarrassing binges, 700 is HUGE. I am in love with 700. When your goal is 1000 calories a day and you deny yourself dinner with friends and family in favor of 700... That feeling of strength, determination, the ability to say NO to the gluttony of the holiday season and your growling stomach... It's wonderful. I am happy with myself for the first time in days. Perhaps a week. A very loooong week.

Banana
Orange
Apple
Coffee
Rice Cake
One tbsp peanut butter
Cookie
Two cups of asparagus
One cup of steamed veggies
Quaker granola bar
Handful of blueberries

700.

<3

Let's keep it going.

Strength. Dedication. THIN.

You're all lovely. Thanks for reading. :)

Merry effing Christmas...

I always wake up with the best of intentions. Every day.

Today, the scale said 133 or 134 again. We're snowed in for the most part, so getting out of the house is nearly impossible. We walked around in the snow for a bit, but I doubt I burned even 1/16 of the calories I consumed today.

I fucked up badly today. Worst day in over a month, possibly two months. It's easy enough to say, "Oh well, it's Christmas, let yourself have this ONE day, just ONE day to take a break." There are no vacations from Ana.

I kept eating. Even after I realized what I was doing to myself, stuffing my face, I kept going. Reckless abandon. Bread, peanut butter, cereal, yogurt, cookies, more peanut butter, more cookies, turkey, bananas, apples, mashed potatoes, squash, and only thirty minutes of cardio.

If I eat ANYthing, I'll eat EVERYthing...and so I SHOULD eat NOTHING.

A single bite leads to another. Another. Another. Until you feel like such a failure that the only fitting punishment is making yourself so full that you're miserable. And fat.

I'm so sorry that my recent posts have been so depressing. The weather and cabin fever just get to me...the grey skies, the cold, the FOOD. I have no energy. I eat and eat and I have no energy. I don't understand.

Hardcore restriction or all-out bingeing. The choice is obvious.

Wine is so fine, but drinking means thinking...

...I'd like to say that tomorrow will be better than today.

I'd really...really...like to say that.

My resolve is waning. It's fading. I want to catch it, chase it, bring it back...

...but that part of me is so very tired. So weary of trying.

I need to remember why it's worth it, and I don't want to have to gain a pound to wake up.

Ana, come back. Please. I'm sorry I scared you away...disappointed you.

My heart is breaking for my lack of a companion in this...I need her back to control me, because I can't control myself, not right now.

There's a log burning on my TV...

So we left off at 660, and I was still there by dinner time, which was early, thankfully.

I ate only a couple bites of everything, as it *was* a family dinner. I sipped coffee and water between each bite, just to be sure and not finish before everyone else. Worked out pretty well.

Starting: 660
Turkey: 135
Mashed potatoes: 50
Corn: 30
Cranberries: 50
Banana: 100
1/3 cookie: 40 (C&S the other 2/3)
Apple: 45
Total by 7:19 PM : 1110
Margin of error compensation: (rounding up) 1200

Usually, this would be considered a relatively decent day. I say 'usually' because before I started obsessing heavily again, I was satisfied with 1200 a day, as long as I had exercised earlier. As it is today, I've only burned an excess 150 or so, which is pretty fail by itself, but I've also spent a good amount of the day sitting on my ass.

Sorry if this is boring. I apologize. Hopefully I won't feel the need to get back on and complain even more. ;) Appreciate your patience and understanding; the holiday food in this house is ridiculously stressful.

Tattoo thinspo!!!

Okay, so in the spirit of my coming tattoo and lip piercing, I thought I'd post a little tattoo thinspo...What's more beautiful than perfectly thin women? Perfectly thin women with amazing ink. :D

Just a thought...

...if I could stop viewing food as something forbidden and desirable...and instead view it as nothing more than sustenance...I'd have it made. MADE.

It's 3:49 and I'm still doing well. Big Red sugar-free gum ftw.


Here's some kickass thinspo. Why? Because who doesn't love looking at beautiful women? Huh? that's what I thought. :P

The whole house smells of roasting turkey...

First and foremost, I need to calculate my calories for the day, so please excuse me for a moment. ;)

Toast: 100
Egg white: 15
Cauliflower: 15
Apple: 35
Salad: 30
Tuna: 100
Some of the little one's Mac & Chz: 45
Cookie: 60
2nd cookie (fail): 100
Atkins bar: 160
Total at 2:24 PM : 660

Really?? It's those cookies. :( Cardio time for today totaled about 150 cals burned, unfortunately. Just didn't have it in me today. I know that sound horrible, but my legs were so fatigued from yesterday. I'll get back on it tonight.

Also, I've decided to implement a little ...shall we say... system of consequences. When I go over my limit or give into a binge, the only punishment is the constant and inevitable self-deprecation that follows. That's definitely unpleasant enough, but it leads to more depression and that, in and of itself, is counterproductive, as I have mentioned before.

While I don't ever like to put exercise in a negative light, because it's actually my very best ally in all of this, I do think that an unplanned snack or especially a binge should be reprimanded with, say, a hundred jumping jacks and fifty crunches...as a direct result of overindulging. Indulging, period. Not only will the sore abs serve as a reminder and a deterrent to future binges, but they'll have some obviously positive effects otherwise. Who doesn't love a flat belly? Well...I'd prefer the concave look, of course, but we have to start somewhere.

Of course, after a binge, the last thing you feel like doing is moving around. The time it takes my food to settle varies, depending on what I ate, but I figure that as soon as I'm capable of jumping about for an extended period of time I shall certainly do so, until I can hardly jump anymore.

That's the plan, Stan...

On the bright side, I've managed to resist peanut butter all day. So...that's cool. :)

Christmas dinner will more than likely be served this evening. All the trimmings. The winter storm/blizzard is going to keep us away from all of the food family would have contributed, but that doesn't mean I'm safe. Perhaps after gift-wrapping is done for the afternoon I'll get myself back up on that elliptical for a REAL workout. 500 or bust.

Stay well, think thin...and remember there's absolutely NOTHING like it...nothing above it. <3

Christmas is canceled.

Well. Here I am again. My mood is not quite as somber and depressed as it was earlier, so perhaps it's good that I write now, if not only to spare you more needless self-deprecation.

The weather has taken a turn for the worse here, and we're suddenly expecting a blizzard that will more than likely last for a few days. It's very possible that we won't be able to get together with the boyfriend's family for Christmas Eve or even Christmas day, which is pretty sad, actually. I was really looking forward to spending some time with his cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandmother. Hopefully the snow won't be as bad as they're projecting...we'll see.

On the bright side of that, no Christmas gathering means no Christmas dinner. I mean, sure, we'll have some holiday food here, but we're certainly not going to be bombarded with the usual potluck style smorgasbord we would traditionally see on a holiday like this. That's one good thing, I suppose.

Today, I finally got to work out the way I've been needing to. One hour of hitting it hard on the elliptical... 570 calories burned. Sad thing is it didn't make me feel any better about myself in the slightest. Hardly even covers the alcohol calories I consumed last night. Meh.

So...I think I'll use this big blank field right here to figure out my day's consumption, if only for myself. I haven't done it all day, not on paper, just in my head. I'm a little scared to do it now, but I don't think I've done too badly overall... Guess we'll see.

Oatmeal: 130
Spinach: 20
Apple: 30
Clementine orange: 24
C&S Atkins bar: probably about 15
Coffee: 10
Part of my daughter's PB&J (fail): about 150
Goldfish crackers: 20
Cauliflower: 10
Fatfree yogurt: 35
Vietnamese veggie/chicken dish: 200
Apples: 70
Banana: 100


Well..That says 814. That doesn't seem right. I'd be happy if it really was 814. But...somehow it seems like I must be missing something, forgetting something. So...I guess I'll round up to 1000 and stay there. Leave a little leeway in case I'm forgetting something.

Burning over 500 calories on the elliptical is always good, but last night...UGH...last night. I just want to forget about last night. Alcohol and chocolate and bread, an all out, full-on binge in direct defiance of all that I am, all that owns me.

I will put last night behind me and stop beating myself up about it. There's no use in doing that now. *sigh...* Oh, and I need to remember to write down my food as I eat it. Every single thing that passes my ungrateful lips. Then there's no room for error.

Ah, I wish I had the strength to fast. For days. Alas, I can't. I know I can't, so I won't set myself up that way.

Looks like it's family game time.

:(

Uh...can you say FAIL?

Damn. And this wasn't just some mindless, spontaneous binge that got the best of me, either. Oh no. Premeditated. Evil. Malicious. Dangerous. Worst yet...Defiant.

Rebellion. It's in all of us. When you begin to rebel against yourself, your own rules, lying to yourself and pitting side against side within your own mind...It's difficult to regain control of the side you want most to win.

Ana, I need you in my corner, now more than ever. I need you to punish me for the 1200 calories I consumed today, I need you to forgive me for defying you. For ignoring you. For suppressing your voice as it called out to me through each and every fucking bite...

"Don't eat that," you said... You beckoned, you reminded, you reprimanded, scolded, you screamed, and I ate. I silenced your voice with the desire to fill my belly, to feel the feeling of FULL. I am so, so sorry...

I don't know what's wrong with me. I am frightened at my lack of resolve, but even more so by my lack of diligence, adherence to the path I've chosen for myself. If this is my choice, my decision, my lifestyle, then shouldn't I have control over it? There's that word again. It all...comes down...
to control.

Ugh. I'm sorry. I tire of writing.

I'm off for now. Stay lovely.

Starting the day off right... :)

300 calorie breakfast. Not too shabby, considering I have full, dedicated intentions to work out today. Oatmeal, toast, coffee, and a few bites of the little one's scrambled egg. Not bad at all. :)

I don't know what we're doing today, but I'm hoping it involves some physical activity of some sort. This weather tends to make you wanna stay in, but by early evening you've got just the worst cabin fever and by then it's even colder, icier, snowier, etc.

Last night we went grocery shopping and bought all kinds of delicious stuff. Raspberries, multiple bags of fresh baby spinach (so I can eat all that I want!), and my beloved Atkins bars... Mmmm...chocolate cravings abolished for minimal calories and so much fiber and protein. Yes.

My scale, as unreliable as it is, tells me 131 this morning. I want so badly to believe it, but I know I shouldn't. I should just assume it's inaccurate. Ahh, I can't wait to get back home to my digital! Even as I say that, I know I'll approach the first weigh-in at home with more than a little trepidation. Why? Because it will tell me the truth. Indeed.

So I was reading something last night online (from my shitty cell, so it was a little difficult to read) but it was one of the first results from a web search of "psychology of anorexia." You know, because I'm constantly curious, always learning. It's kind of my thing.

This guy was talking about the biochemistry of eating disorders and, while I didn't initially agree with many of his points, I did find the majority of it rather interesting. I know I can't do it justice in paraphrasing, so I'll simply post it here for your review, if you like:

http://nov55.com/hea/anorex.html

With that, I will go. I'll probably update throughout the day, as I have been over the past few, only because I'm sitting inside nearly all damn day...the internet never fails to call me back. Endless entertainment and all.

Be well.

Some found thinspo...Lovely.

Thanks go to Minaralou, as I found these on her blog.

Oh, and the first one is obviously not thinspo. Just me. ;)

Mini binge...second night in a row. wtf?

656.

Had some more clementine oranges and an apple all sliced up with cinnamon and ginger, thrown in a little cranberry juice and boiled over medium heat for a few minutes...Like a delicious apple-orange-cranberry pie...without the crust. Then another rice cake.

656. No exercise today. Not yet, anyway. Still time, of course, but the boyfriend is taking a late nap in the room where the elliptical is. So.

I think I'll round up to 700 to be safe. This evening feels a lot like yesterday. Hopefully I won't feel the intense need to eat something like steamed carrots and peas at 9 PM. That was a little fail.

I grow weary of trying so hard. This happens every so often. Then I either look at some amazing thinspo online to remind myself of why I try so hard...or I look at my own disgusting reflection and...remember why I try so hard.

The little one requires my immediate (and possibly prolonged) attention.

Be well.

After lunch...

488.

That's where I am at this point. That includes one rice cake, a tablespoon of sauerkraut, a sliver of sausage (ugh, I know, but it was literally about as much as you could nibble with your two front teeth, and then I promptly gave the rest away), about ten mini M&Ms, and a cup of mashed butternut squash. I'm left feeling full, but not too horrible for the day's intake. This is okay.

488. By 4:16. Yep. That's acceptable. My hunger is sated, and I want for nothing at this point. Well, other than the obvious. Like peanut butter and chocolate. Always. But I'm okay.

So Avatar was awesome...

...only the second 3D movie I've seen so far (other one was "Up" and it was great)...I can say without a moment's hesitation that "Avatar" is my official new favorite movie. yes. Wonderful. You need to see it. :P

Ah, I'm cut short...the dreaded lunch time...I AM indeed hungry, but...well...*sigh*...Here goes nothing. I shall be back.

So far today:

English muffin with margarine: 140
Coffee: 10
Five clementine oranges: 124
Lunch? Who knows?

Good morning to all...

I don't know how long I'll be able to type this morning; I'm sitting on a cold inflatable mattress about four feet from a slightly less cold pull-out sofa bed, where my darling little daughter and boyfriend currently still sleep. It's 8:34 AM and there's no reason for me to be awake, I suppose, seeing as how this *is* vacation. Sleeping burns fewer calories. There's a reason for you.

My primary reason for waking up at 7 this morning was to weigh. Naturally, right? Since yesterday just went *SO* swimmingly. No. I ate too much (about 1000 calories) and only managed to get in about 20 minutes of cardio time (burning something slightly over 200, according to my nifty heart rate monitoring watch). The scale hasn't moved. For this, I suppose, I could be grateful. At least it hasn't gone up, right? Fuck that. Ana has no time for this kind of weakness, dallying, complacency. There is NO SUCH THING as "at least" in this life. At least NOTHING. Don't even think of starting any sentence with "at least." It means you're settling. It means you fucked up BUT. And we all know there is no BUT.

On a cheery note (as I promise I'm not in nearly the foul mood that last paragraph may have implied), I checked my grades for this semester, and... (drumroll in my head)... I managed to make the Dean's List again. Hells to the muthafuckin' yeah. Thus ends my third semester at a university I adore, despite the unspeakable presence of my ever-diminishing faith in an overpriced piece of parchment to improve my quality of life after graduation...but ah well, we shall see. Maybe the world will surprise me and start to value dedication again before 2012.

Ah yes, the Dean's List. I made it my first semester and thought, "Wow, that wasn't easy, but it wasn't as hard as everyone made it out to be. I think I'll try really hard for that again." So second semester ended, and, lo and behold...made it again. My uncle joked that I make it look easy. Ha. YEAH. No. You try doing this as a single parent of a constantly growing enigma of a toddler...Your free time isn't just cut in half, it's erased entirely, until after her bedtime. I don't get to go to all of the handy little study groups and sessions my fellow students put on, because daycare closes at 6:30 every day. I don't get to plop down on the couch with my books and study whenever the whim moves me, because my daughter is needy, as she should be. My study time starts when she is in bed (unless she has a bad dream and can't sleep, and that's a whole different story). She and I read about four or five of her books, and then we sing lullabies together, and then I kiss her goodnight and she embraces me as tightly as perfect little three-year-old arms can and reminds me of why I'm alive: "I love you, Mommy..." That smile... <3 She's my one true beauty in a world of chaos and pain.

So, needless to say, this achievement of a 3.51 may not seem like much, but to me, it means a heck of a lot. I'm pretty proud of myself and, for once, it's not because the scale tells me it's okay to smile.

I'm off to ...ugh...eat breakfast. Only oatmeal, and only because I know I'll need the strength throughout the day. On the bright side, the cold weather really helps with the calorie burnage. So that's win. I've spent all of the past hour, somehow not realizing an hour had even passed, reading blog after blog written by women so much like myself, struggling with these issues, or loving their issues, or hatinglovingneeding them like I do. It's all so fascinating and, even though this may not be appropriate, I find so much of it to be amazing thinspo. I'm sick. I know it.

Stay lovely, every single one of you. I'm excited that my following has increased to 4. :P Ha. Gotta start somewhere, right? Tell a friend. ;)

Yet another update for this evening...bored yet?

Worked out a bit, but only a bit. The little one saw to it that I had very little time to myself, successfully driving my boyfriend and his brother pretty crazy while I did the best I could on that old-school elliptical. Don't get me wrong...I am eternally thankful for the presence of that thing...it's just so different from what I'm accustomed to.

Only burned 230 calories or so. I know that every little bit helps...so that's why I'm not eating for the rest of the night. I will do everything I can to distract myself from the hunger, the weakness (both physical and mental), until bedtime, at which point there will no longer be any opportunity to eat. I know that today is simply an "off" day, so I am actually not in too much despair over what I feel was a failure today. 900 calories minus the 230...not too horrible, but still...weak. I ate when I wasn't even that hungry. Not again; I won't let it happen. Tomorrow's scale had better be lower than this morning's...and then I'll be happy.

It's 7:30. The little one is awake and never went down for a nap. I'm hoping this will result in an earlier bed time than normal, and I'll have some extra time to chill out.

My hands and arms look thin today, at least. My midsection should take some notes.

Pointless binge, anyone?

I'm ashamed to post this, and at the same time, I'm hoping that it'll manage to somehow hold me accountable...maybe make me less likely to eat anything else today.

These calories were consumed over a nine hour period, starting at approximately 7:30 this morning. It's now a little past four. Fucking fail. Seriously. Where's your self control???


oatmeal..............130
craisins...............20
sugar (coffee x 2).30
apple...................30
orange.................40
cinnamon sugar....15
pork chop (2 oz).....100
broccoli................20
rice.....................20
1/2 banana.........40
peanut butter.......90...and then 50 more...
green beans.........10
carrots...............30
cereal..............120
milk.................46
part of daughter's mac & chz...45
peas...........40

Total @ 4:55 - 876 ... i.e., FAIL

I think I'll just go ahead and round it on up to 900. Better safe than sorry.

I broke down to my boyfriend for a few minutes about how shitty I felt. Angry and frustrated with myself. How I felt the intense NEED to punish myself for my weakness, failure to adhere to my own guidelines...my own *rules*...Then I stopped talking. The last thing I want is for him to see me as some kind of lunatic. Obsessed. So I am. Whatever.

If I just avoid eating for the rest of the afternoon and evening...stick to my water and tea...I think I'll be okay. I HAVE to get down there to work out. At least 400. Then...I'll be okay. No more food. No more food. Do I want to be a fatass forever? NO. Then stop fucking shoveling food in your mouth. Simple, right? I hate that it's such a simple concept...and I still utterly fail to execute it correctly.

Fail snack?

Carrots. Steamed. Delicious. Not bad. Good.

Green beans. Also steamed, and also very tasty. Very good.

Cereal...3/4 cup of Honey Bunches of Oats...with 1/3 cup of milk. 165 calories. FAIL.

I was just so hungry. So weak. Weak in as many ways as you can imagine. Mentally and physically...in equal parts.

That puts me up to about 445, but my count may be slightly off, as I did allow myself another cup of coffee to fill the emptiness in my stomach left after the veggies. The coffee should have only been 15 or 20. Hopefully.

*sigh* I feel so unpretty today. Could be that I've missed taking my Wellbutrin in the mornings a few days in row, only remembering after noon...and that *does* often make a significant difference.

I haven't worked out. That always makes me feel ugly. Fat. Fail. I have full intentions to get on that machine, but finding something with which to occupy my very inquisitive three year old little munchkin for a sufficient amount of time to burn the necessary calories...that's a little more difficult. I'm currently downloading some Dora the Explorer. Bad mommy. Dora is not a babysitter. But maybe..just for an hour..to save my sanity? Please?

We're supposed to eat lunch here in the next hour or so, even though have no plans to eat anything. I'm not hungry at the moment, not physically. The carrots put me over the top (another reason I feel so unattractive; I'm full-ish) and, even though the smells coming from the kitchen are indeed tempting, I'm going to do my best to decline anything offered to me. It's hard, though, doing that kind of thing and not seeming rude. We'll see.

Then shopping. I hate holiday shopping. I don't have the money to spend and I don't have the patience to deal with the chaos, or with my daughter. The drivers are discourteous, reckless, oblivious; the shoppers are greedy, impolite, and oblivious. When my daughter inadvertently cuts someone off by running across their hurried path, I always quickly grab her arm, reprimand her appropriately, and apologize sincerely to the person she may have offended. Most of the time, people just keep walking, not even acknowledging my effort. Some smile and say it's okay, and I assume those are the parents who have dealt with that sort of thing before. There are others, still, who will glare menacingly at her, as if a three year old child does this sort of thing on purpose. Whatever. Screw ya'll. ALL ya'll. :P

I sound like a horrible parent, but her neediness is driving me crazy. I feel claustrophobic. The weather outside does not permit escape. Nor does any door in this house...she can open all of them.
I'm on vacation...and yet there is no feeling of vacation here, at least not in this moment. *sigh...*

Crappy quality pictures of today...

My camera phone sucks. Meh.

I'm hating the fat ass part. I'm cool with the ribs. Hipbones are...making an appearance. Finally. Before, I had to suck in to look like this. Now...just have to lay down. Soon, I'll look this good standing up. THEN...I'll be happy.

My therapist doesn't think so...

Neither do I, truthfully. Oh well. I can still pretend to look forward to being content at some point in the future.

The morning after...

...is always different. The morning after a good, long day of proper restriction and exercise, that is. (One effect: Even after breakfast and mandatory coffee, my body is a bit weak and my mind is far from me, so please excuse the lack of flowery, elaborative language in today's entry...I apologize in advance)... You always feel so light, so free, so empty, so...WIN. Your stomach is small, the entire abdominal area a flat, smooth landscape between the steep slopes of clearly cut hipbones...Ah, it makes me wanna take a picture... and there's often this wonderful little butterfly flutter in the center of your chest as you roll out of bed and head for the scale. Anticipation, and the hint of certainty that it *HAS* to have gone down since yesterday, because you worked SO hard the day before... I compare that little flutter to the first ten seconds of blissful high after the painful shock of a *monster* line of coke...indescribable, and yet I'm trying. It feels a little like the weak-in-the-knees hormone rush commonly experienced in the presence of a very strong crush, but only the kind you had in middle school, when love was a possibility around every corner, every day... Or even like the flippy-floppy bubbly feeling in the pit of your belly as your roller coaster car reaches the peak of a forever-long incline of clickit-clickit-clickit-clickity-clickity-CLACK...a pause...as your heart prepares to explode...Yes, it's pretty intense. It doesn't always happen. But I like it when it does.

There's the weakness, which isn't so fun. I've replenished myself (somewhat) with oatmeal adorned with a tablespoon of Craisins, a cup of strong coffee with a teaspoon of sugar and a few packets of Sweet-N-Low, and half a banana. Oh, and three mini-M&Ms to keep me from going crazy. Chocolate is crucial, even in such a small amount. This way, I don't feel so deprived. (Although I've been working lately on an experiment of sorts...convincing myself into completely subscribing to the belief that the only REAL deprivation in all of this is depriving myself of being thin. :) If I can change my mind about food, and view it as merely sustenance instead of something that is desirable but forbidden, I think I'll be much happier overall. Happier AND thin. Win. So. Approximately 230 calories. I plan on sacrificing to the gods of the elliptical about 400 this morning, if I can get myself down there before the little one's cartoons are over for the morning. Then, as the day goes on, I plan an overall consumption of approximately 700 more calories, most of them from leafy vegetables, fruit, and lean protein. Very few carbs.

The scale, which we know from previous posts to be quite difficult to read and very possibly unreliable in its calibration, says 132 this morning. About 132. So hard to see those little lines. Meh. When it starts to dip under 130, I'll get excited. :)

Last night, over at the bf's friends' house, I had one glass of red wine (about 110), three Hershey's Kisses (about 18 each...can we say FAIL?), and two sugar cookies... I KNOW! Weak. The alcohol is always a bad idea. Makes you think it's maybe okay to break all *kinds* of rules...especially the kind your subconscious spends all day just longing to break. One glass of wine...sheesh...lightweight. I recall a time when even an entire bottle of wine wasn't enough to get my buzz on. Meh. No big deal. Better for me, I s'pose...and anyone buying me wine. ;)

The weakness feels like weights strapped to my arms, legs, neck, and consciousness. I look forward to it, now, just a bit. Reminds me of my strength and will. I like that. When I'm full, I fail. Easy as that.

I want nothing more than a huge bowl of steaming, peppered spinach...RIGHT now... Mmmm... 40 calories of pure perfection. Ha...I'm the healthiest disordered person I know. ;)

Be well.

This is...AMAZING.

I hate it when I lose track of my calories in a day. I have an approximation, but when you go to a restaurant or eat a homemade meal with the family, it's pretty difficult to estimate what you're eating, calorie-wise. Meh. I was pretty darned careful...I think I may have hit about 1200. But I worked out this morning, so I think I'm safe. Turns out the only scale here is one of those old dial ones...with tiny, itty-bitty, hardly discernible lines between pounds...ah, I miss my digital one already. It's only a few weeks, only a few weeks... Just have to be EXTRA careful...Like I wasn't already, right?

In other news, I have just been made aware of THE single most incredible and significant food product ever invented... Calorie-free peanut butter spread. Yes. It exists. Walden Farms, a well-known brand name in my house, has served me well with their sugar-free, fat-free, and calorie-free salad dressings and BBQ sauce. Now... PEANUT BUTTER! If you've read any of my previous entries, you may very well know of my affinity, my *obsession* with peanut butter. I have spent countless hours agonizing over the calorie and fat content of what I consider to be one of my very *favorite* foods (forbidden as it is) but NOW...I have to have this stuff!!! I'm wondering now if I've just overlooked it in the supermarket because, even though I've VERY often wished that someone would make calorie-free peanut butter, I just never thought it possible, so I never looked. I kind of just resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't an option. This is HUGE. I will have it. It will be wonderful.

All right, I'll have to leave for now. Gotta get the little one down. I am happier than I should be over food...seriously, I don't get this excited unless I've lost weight. :P

Be well, all.

I won't let a change of environment change my resolve...

...270. That's how many calories I consumed this morning for breakfast. Well, probably closer to 300. Better just say that to be safe. A bowl of cinnamon apple oatmeal - 130. Vanilla wafer fail... about 8 cookies - 140. Sugar in my coffee because no Splenda was available - 20. Craisins in my oatmeal...ugh, I'm not gonna count those. I know it's cheating, to an extent, but whatever. So..Yeah. Let's just round it out to 300 and I'll go work it off and then some, as long as I can get my daughter to stay preoccupied with Sesame Street for an hour or so. Wish me luck with that.

It felt so good to be 134 yesterday. I want to hold onto that feeling, I do...but yesterday. Ugh. Two alcoholic beverages at about 150 calories each, pretzels and cookies on the airplane...the gods don't even *know* how many calories there. I can't go back up. I can't. I won't.

At least it's cold here. And there's snow. It's lovely.

The starvation yesterday was worth it...

Okay, so I didn't exactly STARVE. But let's put it this way, in numbers that are easier to understand than language: I consumed (approximately...explanation to follow) 1100 calories yesterday. A bit more than I had planned, but still, all in all, not bad. I BURNED 750...I think... So that leaves me living on very little. I woke up this morning... Weighed 134.6. YES!!!!!!! That is the lowest I've reached so far. I can hardly believe it. It only motivates me to go further, of course, and though I'm rushed for time (gotta pack for the trip!), I did manage to get to the gym this morning. Only had time for about an hour's worth of work, but I hit it hard and fast, burning 470 calories. I've had 448 to eat this morning, and I'm feeling great. All day yesterday was full of dizziness and fatigue, restriction and will power. Last night, I went to my mom's house and she had fried chicken, rolls, mashed potatoes, and cole slaw waiting. Ugh. Kill me, right? I peeled the skin off of one thigh, ate the chicken, four or five bites of potatoes (I was sooo hungry!) and a good sized helping of cole slaw. Apparently, though, everything I did yesterday was worth it...Ah, I could have *kissed* that scale this morning. :D

This high, this satisfaction, this sense of accomplishment...it's unparalleled. I know that I have my lows...man, do I ever have my lows...but they seem so distant on a day like this one. Just have to keep it going. Ana's in my corner today. I'm gonna keep her there.

Well, I had better get going. I have the worst track record with this whole "being on time for shit" thing. ;) I'll do my very best to update often while we're up there, but I can't promise daily entries.

Hope everyone has an awesome day...

So chilly...hope it's burning more cals...

I promise this'll be a short one. Mostly because I'm cold and I need to get to work on handling all kinds of little errands before we'll be ready to leave for Minnesota. Tomorrow!!! :D

I thought I'd update with my activity/progress for the day. I'll try to do this more often, if not for the entertainment/amusement of my reader(s), then at least for my own records.

Weighed this morning...Unfortunately, 137.0.
Calories consumed as of 12:37 PM - 569
Goal for the day - 1000-1200
Calories burned at the gym today - 730

*sigh...*

Off to the ((cold)) shower, then to the bank, then back home to pack, then to my mom's house. Lots of little, menial tasks in between.

Fun, fun.

Here's to putting a face to the name. I don't care anymore.

Photos of me at my lowest... *sigh*

Umm...Okay, so I thought I'd upload a few photos here? I usually do this on PrettyThin, but the site's been having trouble with photo albums for quite some time. Let's see how this turns out... Oh, and hey, you can see my daughter's legs in one of 'em. Awesome.

Tuesday night...part II...

So I promised to come back and finish my thought, so to speak, after I put the little one to bed. As usual, I fell asleep with her as we sang our good night songs, but when I woke up and realized it was nearly 11 I knew I had to get up; the kitchen wasn't clean yet, all the lights in the front room were still on, the door unlocked, and of course, my blog unfinished. My back...ugh...the person who built this chair needs to seriously consider a change in his/her choice of career.

I felt like writing earlier. Now...not so much. I know I can probably get myself back into that mode, that mood, if I try hard enough...or if I write for long enough...the material in the interim, though, may end up being a bunch of nonsense, though, so...consider yourself forewarned. Man. The ellipsis. I use it FAR too often. ...

Hm. How do I start this? I don't feel like being logical in my thought, so here goes: another wild ride down the slippery slopes of my stream-of-consciousness ramblings.

I'm hungry. My stomach is physically hungry. Despite what may seem to be true, in light of my eating disorder(s), I am not often physically hungry. No, not lately, at least. When I wake in the morning, I am starving. This pretty normal for most folks, I suppose, but when you don't allow yourself a single bite of anything past 7, you're probably quite a bit more hungry than, say, someone who stayed up til 2 at a bar munching on pizza or hot wings or whatever, right? Either way, I would venture to say that most people are hungry in the morning.
I am also hungry very late at night. Why? Please refer to previous explanation concerning the 7 PM rule. It's now 11 and I'm not eating anything. This hunger, this emptiness, it fills me. It reminds me that I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing. It makes me feel strong and weak simultaneously, and I crave it. When I have failed Her and failed myself and I have binged on whatever...doesn't matter if it was a binge that consisted entirely of romaine lettuce and carrot sticks, it's still a failure (loss of control)...I am full, and at that point, in that moment of uncomfortable, often painful, fullness, I crave the hunger. I want my emptiness back. I want it all to be undone, I want the binge to be erased, I want to go back in time and take a walk instead of eating, or write or paint or draw instead of eating, anything... but no. That's ridiculous, right? Impossible. Your only other recourse is, of course, to get rid of it. Throw it up. But no, we've been through this. I won't. I won't. I've made a promise that I won't. So instead...I wait for the fullness to pass and, as soon as it does, I go running. I exercise. I get up and get to the gym and work my ASS off and burn at LEAST the number of calories I consumed, plus about 100, if not more. Monday morning...yes, I suppose that *was* yesterday (seems like longer)...I binged early in the day and ate about 750 calories before 9 AM. None of it was crap food, but it was 750 all the same. I went to the gym and nearly killed myself getting rid of it. 866 calories burned...and I came home. I felt pretty good about that. That morning, I completed my last final of my third semester. I felt liberated, free, relieved, for about half a second. And then I remembered that I'm never really fully free...She doesn't let me forget my role; I'm her slave...she's definitely the master here. I serve her willingly. When I disappoint her, I fail her, I fail myself, I hate myself. And school... The simple joys like the awesome feeling of accomplishment at the end of a successful semester are much harder to realize, to *feel*, when your mind is otherwise overtaken by something so all-encompassing, consuming. Nothing else matters...just getting rid of this hateful body, finding the beautiful bones you KNOW must lie underneath...

That brings us to the real reason I guess I'm here. (I'm still not feeling my writing mojo working for me, by the way, so I apologize if my language is not up to my usual standards...may come across as a bit bland this evening)... Just a short time ago (less than a week), I was REALLY hitting it hard, really on track, like I haven't been in ages. I don't know where that inspiration, that drive, was coming from, but I was loving it. Every single thing I did, I did in Her name, and it showed. Every time I refused to allow food to pass my lips was *worth* it, and every time I succeeded in resisting was another small victory, and it fed me. And then...something happened. I slipped, just a little, one time... and I can't even rightly recall what it was or when it happened, but it was something big enough to make me feel like I had failed miserably. That "all or nothing thinking" for which we are often known came back in full force, lying to me, telling me that everything I'd done was undone now, and that there was no use in trying anymore because I'd already fucked it all up. Once again, I know, even as I type this, that a good number of people that read this may think I'm crazy or irrational or unreasonable or ...whatever else... I know that my thoughts certainly do not spring from a fount of complete sanity, but whose do? Hmm? Yours? Prove it. :P

ANYway, so this slip...this something...set me off and down a path of weakened will power, dissolved resolve, if you will. Each subsequent day, I fell a little further, allowing food to tempt me, wanting it to tempt me, and then fighting, but just a little, because that's what She's trained me to do. Then I would give in, like a fucking fat cow, and eat, or c&s, no matter the time of day or night. Foods that would NEVER be allowed before (listed in a previous post) were now *less evil* for some godforsaken reason. Even today...I start off with such PURE intentions, real, strong, willful goals. Then I fail. I LET MYSELF FAIL. NO one is forcing food into my mouth. No one. My own hands are doing this. Random, stupid justifications flood my brain just in the moment when I need control of my thoughts the most. "You can work it off, you're fine..." or "You burned so many calories at the gym this morning, so it's okay, let yourself have that chocolate..." WTF? THAT is not okay. None of it is okay. And yet...when faced with temptation that strong, my head likes to fight wars with itself and, unfortunately for my fat ass, the side that really wants to eat usually wins. Lately, at least. NOT anymore. Fuck. I can't. I won't. I know I said that before...ugh, I sound pathetic. Who am I trying to convince? Only myself. I need a new game plan. I need to find...re-find...that will, that strength, I had so very recently. I want it back. I will have it back.

On a slightly different note... well...hm. I should probably save that for another entry. This one is already unbearably long, and it's late. Gym time comes early in the morning. I can hardly wait.

Chewing and spitting gummy bears...

...fail. Yeah. Another post from me, full of all kinds of negativity...big surprise, right?

This, like so many of my previous entries, is not supposed to be a long one. It's late and my daughter is still awake (her daycare had a Christmas program tonight so we got home later than usual) and there is much to do around here before I'll be able to say I'm ready for our trip (we're leaving Thursday to fly up north to visit my boyfriend's family for the holidays). As I type, clean and dry laundry rests wrinkling in the dryer. Dirty dishes steep in soapy water, waiting to be washed and dried and put away. My suitcase sits in a messy, cluttered room, asking to be packed...but that brings us back to square one. The laundry. And the little one...I can't get much done when she's awake. I told her it was bath time about 20 minutes ago. Way to go, slacker mommy.

Chewing and spitting (c&s) is NOT a substitute for restriction. And yet somehow, I can already see the detrimental effects it has on my will power. It's one of the most difficult things I do in my daily life, avoiding eating. Every single moment is consumed with thoughts of food as it is... now there's this *new* thing that promises the opportunity to taste the foods I'm not allowed to have, just as long as I'm able to spit them out before the mostly natural process of swallowing occurs. NO. I can't let this be a crutch. Ugh... you still end up swallowing quite a bit of what you chew, if you're not careful. Oh, and a note that may seem obvious (but of course I had to try it): peanut butter on apples... very nearly impossible to c&s successfully. Yeah. Retarded.

Gummy bears. Why did I want those? Why did I think I could have them, chew them, and manage not to swallow even a little? No, this only leads to fail. You think you can resist swallowing...but then it happens, just a little, and it feels good. So you swallow a little more...each calorie adding up to a total that's already too high for the day. If it's in my mouth, it's already gone too far. Too close. No. Just keep it far, far away... Like in the package. On the shelf. At the store. Or in the trash. I hate wasting food, I do...You wouldn't guess it, reading all of this. But I do. That's one of the reasons I have such a hard time throwing away the rest of my daughter's dinner when she doesn't finish...because it's still perfectly good, right? And usually it's something I'm not allowed to have...it's so easy just to reach over and... NO. God damn it, no. Fuck. I'm hating this.

By "this," I mean... Shit, I hardly have time to delve into it, but I know that's why I'm here. That's why I chose to sit down in front of this computer in a chair that kills my back as soon as I settle in...That's why I'm not doing the dishes or laundry or bathing my child... Because I need to figure myself out. I hate not having time for anything, and yet having enough time to ...what, waste? If this is a waste, then it's a necessary one, damn it. I'll defend my right to rant til death.

Perhaps I'll come back and explain after I get all of that shit done. Yes. Simple enough, right? ..Yeah... I guess... not when your brain feels like it's going to explode with all of the bullshit rolling around in it.

I'll be back.

I'm through with messing around...

135.6. That was the lowest I reached last week before I fucked up again. 137.0. That's where I am now. Fail.

I have to be more strict with myself. I do. I will. I can't afford to let complacency seep in this way, whispering those faint echoes of lies that reverberate through my consciousness long after She's left me...telling me that I'm getting thinner, noticeably thinner, that I'm starting to look better. So the fuck what? Does that mean you can eat more now? Are you fucking out of your mind? All of the hard work, the hours spent at the gym, the counting and recounting and recounting again of every single calorie, just to be sure... You're going to let a fucking craving take all of that away, undo everything? Weakness! Weakness is NOT acceptable here! I can hardly even bring myself to write of the evils the past few days have held for me, concerning food, at least. Ugh. Fried foods. Chocolate. Peanut butter. Bread. Potatoes. All of them, forbidden. All of them...in my mouth, down my throat, into my stomach, but not before sending all sorts of mixed messages to the pleasure/gluttony and guilt/remorse/regret centers of my brain. Yes, that tastes good, of course it does. Yes, I want to throw it up immediately...right now, I have to get rid of it. No...I won't. Purging isn't practical in my lifestyle, and it's so horrible for me, and because I know myself enough to see the potential for addiction there, I resist it the best I can. I've only purged maybe...what...ten times in my whole life? Yeah...no. Have no fear; my decaying sense of reason is still here.

I woke up this morning and the smooth slant of my hipbones was fainter, undefined, the ever-indomitable layer of abdominal fat covering my perfect bones. I walked into the bathroom and wished for a scale, and simultaneously was glad for its absence. Every mirror is an enemy, and yet I need them all, need them to remind me that I'm on track somehow, even though the reflection still repulses me, angers me, weakens me. I still need it, I need a reminder...Tell me why I'm doing this and what to do next? Ah yes..that's why. My huge ass and thighs and love handles and the disgusting jiggling masses of putrid fat that cling to my bones; it feels disgusting, just handfuls of it, and the mirror reminds me. You want to get rid of that shit? You want smooth, sleek, slim legs that show just enough of a line of muscle, just enough of your bone structure through flawless, fatless skin? Then DON'T fucking EAT.

It seems so fucking simple, doesn't it? You know what my favorite line is? "Just work out; that way you can eat whatever you want." FUCK. OFF. Second favorite line? "Wow, you're so thin, lucky you!" You, also...Fuck off. Luck plays no role here. Only discipline, determination, self-loathing and self-punishment. Yeah, this probably sounds a bit insane, huh? To any *normal* person. God, I hate that word. Normal? Seriously? Have I ever been normal? My best friend of countless years visited me this weekend. I love her so. She is the last piece of my life before all of this, before I feel like I lost control (though back then I don't remember searching or striving for control...it was never an issue)...She reminded me of a time back then when she and I were in the kitchen of my grandmother's house, making cookies from scratch from my grandmother's recipe. We're talking full-fat milk, butter, shortening, eggs, flour, real sugar...The works. We made this huge batch of snickerdoodles and proceeded to polish off the entire pan by ourselves. Just the two of us. Why? Because we'd made them and they were ours? yeah. Because they tasted wonderful? Yes. Because we didn't have a care in the world about our fucking waistlines, or the cellulite that would come, or the feelings of intense guilt and failure and agony by which I would eventually come to find myself encompassed daily. No...no foresight, no worries...I can hardly remember it, or believe it, now, but there is that vague shadow of a memory that remains with me...I will hold onto it now, as a time before the time of obsession, of Ana... Thanks, besty.

So back to reality. I'm here, sitting, instead of running, because I ate some oatmeal for my very late breakfast and have to wait a bit before I can go work out. My entire food consumption for this morning consisted of that oatmeal, one Fig Newton, and a handful of the usual cocktail of pills I take daily, plus four more...I'm starting a fiber/laxative/cleansing regimen that is supposed to last for about 14 days. I've read that a good colon cleansing product is a good way to jumpstart a period of weight loss, so we'll see how that works. My experiences with fiber usually involve extreme pain and abdominal cramping (gas) that can last for hours...so I took some Beano with them. I hope that works.

Over the past week I started something new and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've found that when I do hit a moment of weakness, or rather, the weakness hits me, and I do go ahead and binge. Not nearly as much as I used to, of course, because I know that to binge is to bring my depression to new depths and I want to avoid that. But no...I do...I crave food (weakness, again!) and I want to see it and smell it and feel it under my teeth and in my mouth...it feels like broken rules and reckless rebellion and it's frightening and indulgent and REAL...I think I've written about this before. Regardless, I do it, and it feels good. For the time being. But you inevitably feel totally fail later, for reasons we all know by now. So what do I do in this situation? C&S, baby. Yeah, I know, it's not the best idea, but I've been chewing and spitting lately for half of my binges and it seems to work pretty well. You still get the sensation of eating but very few of the calories are actually absorbed by your mouth and stomach. Plus, there's the added bonus of the fact that fully masticated food looks utterly disgusting when spit into a plastic cup or paper napkin...Kind of kills your appetite to see it. Now I'm certainly not saying this is a badass new idea because it's not, and I would never suggest anyone adopt such a method...I'm just saying that it works for me. A little. Sometimes.

It's time to work out. 500 calories burned or bust. Be well.

What's wrong with this day?

I feel so weak. Tired. No, scratch that... Exhausted. This fatigue...it makes no sense. Sure, I went to sleep at about 3 AM...but I didn't wake up until 8:45 this morning. Which means, by my usual standards, I got sufficient sleep. I shouldn't feel like this.

It's more than fatigue. It's a cloud, a dense, thick, heavy, oppressing...presence...bearing down on me, weighing me down as if I'm walking around my house wearing a backpack full of bricks just for shits and grins. Ugh. Doesn't help that today is utterly fail outside. Cold, overcast, no sun to be seen for miles and miles... Just...gray. Granite. Hard. It matches my mood perfectly.

I think this depressed feeling, which hit me unexpectedly and rather quickly at about 10 this morning, is the result of a combination of things. It's Friday, and it's my responsibility to make sure that this entire house and all of the laundry and dishes and bedclothes within it, are clean by 6 PM. Sorry, bud...not gonna happen today. Oh, I'll get it done. I have no choice. It's what pays my rent, so to speak. I'm just going to take forever doing it.

Yes, so that's one reason, I think, that I feel so shitty. I hate cleaning this house. Despise it. One good thing? Cleaning disgusting toilets REALLY kills your appetite...had I one at all. Usually would, but that brings us to the second reason I think I feel like total dog crap: I ate entirely too much this morning...and didn't work out. At all. No gym. Woke up late, as I mentioned earlier, took the little one to school, went to the store to pick up a few things for her Christmas program at daycare, and came home to clean. Told myself that it'll be okay, whatever I ate for breakfast (approximately 400 calories) would be worked off during housecleaning, and I'd have the chance to get the gym after the house was done. Then I came home and proceeded to eat...again. I wasn't even hungry. FAIL. Fail in every sense of the word. Honestly. That's not even JUST lack of self-control...it's even worse. It's premeditated, completely ALLOWED bingeing... I ate and could have stopped at any time but because I feel so shitty, I kept going, thinking something I put in my mouth was eventually going to make me feel better. Nothing did. I stopped, though, because tomorrow's goal of 135 is so important to me... I have to make it. I know that a total intake (so far) of 900 calories by nearly 5 PM isn't the end of the world, especially considering the workout to come...but still, I feel fail, so I'm fasting til after I run. Then, only egg whites and neg cal veggies. You know, to keep my muscles from dying and my ears from ringing. I've really gotta train my body to run on less...but I know that's walking a thin line, and allowing myself to peer over that edge into what I know is harmful...Hm. It's dangerous stuff, that is. I force myself, as of now, to consume at least 1000 a day, and just work off like 400 to 600... It's so tempting to eat just 500, work off 600, and lose a ton of weight that way. I KNOW it's not the way to do it, I KNOW it's bad for me, and so that is why I fight myself, and I do it "correctly." Whatever that means. However, if this weight doesn't continue to drop as I need it to...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

My back is killing me. This chair fails. I think I've written that here before.
This was supposed to be a short entry. I'm entirely too longwinded for my own good. I...apologize? Yeah.

So I'm back...ish..

I've been away for quite some time, for a number of reasons. For a little while there, I thought I was getting "better." I thought I wanted to be better. There are some moments of some days that I feel like freedom from this obsession is all that I need to be truly happy in life...and then I remember that, without Ana, without this obsession, I am lost. I am lost to myself and within myself, and without her I fear every bite, every calorie, as if they were actual, physical phantoms very capable of causing me bodily harm...Oh wait...right...they can. Yes...

The microwave says my green beans are ready. My daughter is pulling my right arm persistently, insisting that I come away from the computer and into the living room to watch her do her "trick"... which I'm almost certain is the same trick she's been doing for the past hour or so. Spinning. Around in a circle. Over and over until she gets dizzy and nearly hurts herself falling, every single time. Ha. She's three. Oh, to be so easily amused. If I thought spinning mindlessly in circles would help me escape my own mind for just a few moments, I'd probably try it, too. As it is, I'm feeling pretty dizzy this evening, but I'm not eating anything other than these green beans. Oh, they're going to be so delicious. The tastiest 20 calories I've had today, I'm sure.

Yes, tomorrow is Tuesday. Tuesdays and Thursdays = weigh days. Tomorrow's goal is set at 135 or lower. I've been working my ass off with this number in mind, burning at least 500 calories on the elliptical/treadmill every single morning in addition to limiting myself to less than 1,200 calories a day. Today, I hit about 1,000, but with that workout this morning PLUS walking around campus all day in near-freezing temperatures...it's no wonder I'm dizzy. All right, I'll make myself a deal: if I can't finish my communications study guide for all the stars and tracers flying around and past my eyes, then I'll eat something else. Maybe some grapes. An apple. Tomato. No carbs. Absolutely not. I know that's probably what my body needs, and were tomorrow not a Tuesday, I probably would allow myself a slice of whole wheat toast. As it is, though, I simply can't risk having that bread this late. It's 8 PM, after all. Nope. Can't do it. Won't.

I feel that my thoughts are so scattered, so random, and I apologize for the lack of direction in this post. Meh.

So since I last wrote, I've dropped about 4 lbs, if I'm not mistaken. That's not much, but when you consider the fact that I'm not starving myself (technically, I guess I *am* if you consider consuming anything less than 1200 a day "starving"...whatever) and that I'm exercising, building muscle mass, all that... 4 lbs isn't bad at all. A lb a week. That's all I'm asking. It only gets more difficult as you get lower.

Ah, the little one beckons. And I should really spend some time with her before bed time. I hope to report success tomorrow. We shall see.