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.
Please stop fucking asking me to be your “ana friend”.. I’m not going to support a disease that almost killed me and took my dream and aspiration of becoming an astrophysicist with a PhD away from me. If you want to kill yourself and your dreams, go for it. We’re animals, and this is natural selection, but don’t fucking bother me and try to get me involved with your demise. I want to live a superior life, and I’m not stupid or weak enough to let the anorexic voice in my head beat me. A voice in which I never even wanted there.
Stop… just stop… You’re literally offending and metaphorically slapping those of us who actually really suffer with this illness in the face. If you saw the reality of the illness, you would be horribly shocked. Moreover, I am kind of getting sick of girls saying how “anorexic” they are just because they skipped breakfast once, ate a salad for dinner, etc. No, you’re not anorexic. You’re ridiculously ignorant, and I recommend going to therapy because there has to be something disturbingly wrong with you for trying to get attention this way. Furthermore, I am getting tired of seeing people call thin, yet healthy, women anorexic, like it’s a complement. Anorexia, an illness that costs me hundreds of dollars worth of therapy and doctor bills, 10 years of my 20 year old life, my happiness, almost ended my life unknowingly, etc., is not something to be fucking proud of, isn’t a compliment, or something to aspire to have. Right when you start to wish you had this illness is the moment when you should go seek help right away. When I was 10 years old, I wanted to be very skinny and highly intelligent. I was silent about my desire to be skinny, yet many of my schoolmates noticed something was wrong about me, yet I kept it to myself until I almost killed myself and had to withdraw from college at the age of 19. I didn’t get help until I was 19. Nine years after the problem STARTED. I almost DIED. I was told I had 6 MONTHS TO LIVE. Do you really want that?
Your body goes into starvation mode and retains every little bit you do eat, instead of digesting it and getting rid of it. If you want to get skinny, and remain skinny, convince your body that you’re not going to go through a food scarcity and feed it every 1 to 3 hours. I’m 5’7” and 107 pounds, and I probably eat like 2,000 calories a day, so if you find me to be skinny or at a low enough weight, you should probably take my advice and stop treating your body like it’s in the Holocaust and start training it to accept and quickly digest food. I’m also a vegan, which helps, because the food I do eat is grains, fruit, vegetables, nuts, and beans, so my body easily recognizes those foods, and digests them faster. Moreover, the majority of the foods I consume actually burn fat. No need to go to the gym. ;)
Better lighting. Same body. I like my narrow hips, my stomach, and my arms. I wish my inner thighs were smaller, but it is what it is. So, I guess, for the most part, I love my body, and that’s just fine.
These are my weird looking legs. My anorexic mind tells me that they’re fat all of the time, while my logical mind tells me that they’re thin. It’s a constant battle, but I will win!
I don’t let myself go to bed weighing more than 108.2 pounds, to make sure I’ll weigh in the 107 pound range the next morning. I weighed 108.4 pounds, did 300 sit ups, and didn’t lose anything. Fuck it. Tomorrow, I’m starving myself. I hate eating. It just winds up with me feeling like a failure, a small binge, and leaves me feeling terribly guilty and angry. I’m so fucking angry at myself for putting that food into my mouth. I’m 5’7”, so someone please leave me messages about how fat I am, to motivate me to lose more weight.
My body, which I am now proud of. I actually love the fact that I am flat chested because it means I never have to wear a bra, which is actually healthy considering wearing a bra increases one’s chances of getting breast cancer. :-)
You actually gain weight if you skip breakfast and consume all of your calories later in the day. Bragging about how you’re so anorexic because you skipped breakfast just sounds ridiculous. If anything, you should consume the calories that you do allow yourself to have earlier on in the day, so that your body has enough time to burn it off before you get up and measure/ weigh/ whatever you do to yourself in the morning. However, maybe I’m not the person to give advice considering, at around 107 to 108 pounds at 5’7”, I’m considered a “fat anorexic” to some people. I’m sorry if a BMI of 16.8 to 16.9 is considered fat, but I’m actually very satisfied with my body now, and I’m actually healthy at the weight that I’m at.
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.