The date and time it is minus December 29th, 1991 at approximately seven o'clock in the morning equals my age.
I have a wonderful boyfriend named Jeff who is my everything.
I have an obsession with Marilyn Manson, Motionless in White, astronomy, science in general, and Stephen Hawking.
I am a physics major, astronomy minor, and I play the piano.
I love heavy metal.
I'll beat you in chess.
My personality type is INTJ.
I'm a vegan and I don't have a religion.
I am very misanthropic.
I am anorexic.
I'm straight edge. (Which means I don't do drugs or consume alcohol.)
I would waste time telling you about who I am, yet I'd rather you find out by yourself.
More than half of the women in this country, along with many other countries, are worried about their weight. Only less than one percent of the women in this country, along with many other countries, have anorexia nervosa.
Normal women can diet and then stop.
An anorexic diets and cannot.
An anorexic person feels a cognitive detachment from their own body.
A normal person is self aware of their own body.
The disease lays dormant in the sufferer’s mind, and when triggered by anxiety, emotional or physical trauma, or stress, the disease takes over.
If you got “anorexia” because of a preoccupation with the media, I don’t think you fully understand what the mental illness actually is.
I have this disease, and I’ve had it since I was about 9 or 10. I’m now 20 years old. 10 to 11 years later, and I’m still in this prison involuntarily. If you wish to be in this mental hell like I am, I recommend you say goodbye to everyone and everything that you love, because you’re not going to be enjoying them for very long. I haven’t been legitimately happy for my entire life, and although I’m not an emotional person, I have to admit that it would be nice to experience the feeling of happiness. If you really wish to acquire this disease, I urge you to spend an entire week with an anorexic person, seeing all of our rituals, obsessive habits, crying spells, dizzy spells, seeing us struggle to do something as simple as taking a shower because our legs are shaking from lack of muscle, not being able to sleep at night due to the fear of not waking up the next morning, lying to our families and telling them that everything is getting better, while everything is getting worse, giving up hanging out with everyone, isolating ourselves in our rooms for days, our weigh ins, our painful punishments, etc. Anorexia isn’t a joke. This is not funny. This is not fun. This isn’t beautiful. This is hell. This is my prison. I am not cognitively free. If you think anorexia is “cool” or whatever, fuck you.