Saturday, October 27, 2012

deeply imperfect

I dreamed of walking on an ethereal beach, a narrow strip of sand between a sheer charcoal cliff and an ocean of clear swirling waves. The shallow sea was tinted with the sheen of faint rainbows. In the distance, the sun rested on the horizon, a sunrise or a sunset or maybe neither. Pink and gold glazed the sky and shimmered over the water. I was weightless, leaving no footprints on the sand, as if I had not ever existed. I felt such happiness, as if the world had become simple. In another dream, a boy I had once known but forgotten, looked at me, turned to his father and said, "Some things never change." He was right; despite anything I do to my body or my life, I'll still be here, somewhere inside. I've always been me, even when I tried so hard to change, as if changing would erase my unhappiness.

"You're really pretty!" she said randomly, and I reflected the compliment back to her, wishing I knew if her words were meaningful. I'm not pretty anymore, not on the inside nor the outside. I am worn away, weak, soft, tired. And I want to come back to control, obsession, my life in the past, even though it was often filled with dissastisfaction and a coldness that penetrated sharply, freezing my mind. At times, it was comforting, stable, and rewarding, and I miss that. I want to waste away, though I know I will still be deeply imperfect.

105 pounds, aiming for 89.

Much love and thanks to
Little Miss Thin
The Lovely Bones
Judith Marie
Lucy's Shadow.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

help me please?

It's been so long, but I'm here again. I have no words right now, but someone please give me some words of motivation? I need to be pushed, harder.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012


"To play this piece, you had to have experienced heartbreak, romantic heartbreak," my violin teacher tells me. But I prefer the piano. It is solid and difficult to move and reassuring. I have played piano and faithfully attended lessons since 1st grade, but only very recently, has passion replaced hate. I find myself sitting there, my fingers following their own path over the smooth black and white keys. Sometimes my mind leaves and comes back; my hands know the music better than me. I've fallen in love with Liebestraume No. 3, by Franz Liszt. The piece is coming together in fragments. Music has always touched me superficially, the notes grazed my ear. Now, it enters me through the skin and reverberates. Every chord and every phrase is an emotion and thought, the song is a story.

Finally, I have fallen out from the binge/purge cycle. My scale told me 101 pounds yesterday, recovered from the high of 107. Ninety-three is 8 pounds away. I was excited to discover that I can easily wrap my hand around my wrist, all four fingers able to reach the top of my thumb. It seems, that to accept myself, I must cut the body away. I recognize the mental and physical repercussions, but logic has not altered anything. I am not the excess weight that clings to me, like leaves on a tree. I want to be a tree in the dead of winter, bare and thin and light.

Last night, I cried, remembering all the many mistakes and people I had wronged, the loneliness that used to wrap itself tightly around me, the uncertainness that I have never been able to penetrate. And when I had grown tired of tears, I waited for catharsis, expecting a calm after the glass jar with all the built up emotions had shattered. I still felt like a failure, but I realized I am responsible for my own happiness and well-being. And I want to attain that. I want all the negative thoughts and anger and sadness to drain out, so I can fill the space with everything I value and love.

I write a lot about my experiences, my feelings, my life, but I think I write infrequently about me as a person.  

1. Blue is my favorite color, because it can be both tranquil and intense.
2. I have an intense fear of getting lost, especially during night.
3. If I could, I would always wear short, simple dresses.
4. Shyness is one of my major issues and I am amazed I have friends.
5. I have perfect pitch. I am also a terrible singer.
6. At night, I send my thoughts scattering in nonsensical directions to fall asleep. 
7. I wish on dandelion puffs and stars.
8. I look older than my chronological age.
9. I want the courage to stand up for what I believe.  
10. One day, I hope to travel every inch of the world and live without fear or regret.

Thanks to mylittlebones, Chloe, Depressed Skinny Mess, Princess Perfection, AVY, Judith Marie, and I do, I do. for your comments on my last post! All of you are incredible. 
mylittlebones - I first began my obsession early last year. Unfortunately, I have not continuously lost weight, b&p/willpower/life/friends/wanting to get better/etc has kept me from the two-digits. I am momentarily satisfied when I see a change on the scale, but I always strive to be thinner and thinner. Thank you so much for commenting! :)
Judith Marie - I have never been able to really grasp that aspect myself. I do think that I make others uncomfortable when I do not eat when expected, such as at a restaurant or at lunch. When I binge and do not purge, I'm in an awful mood and unfortunately that affects the people in my life. I also wonder if people suspect the truth about me. Oh and I just realized your picture is of a hedgehog!!! I adore hedgehogs! Do you have one? A classmate carries hers around in a purse sometimes. Anyways, thank you so much for commenting! <3

Friday, April 20, 2012


Dirt presses heavily and suffocatingly over me, a hundred and four pounds of excess. Digging my way out, escaping with my skeleton and leaving my decomposing body underground. My knees touch, interrupting the slope of empty space. The circular motions of the binge/purge cycle are so rigid, breaking out of these self-defeating behaviors seems improbable.

(a recent experience that I will never try again.)
     A laugh breaks through the silent evening, at nothing in particular. An eternity later, I find consciousness on cold concrete and the world is sideways. Dull panic throbs, though I can't recall anything. I know nothing, am nobody. I feel newly born. A face, an urgent voice. He is familiar, Alex. I watch myself from a place above my head as I climb the stairs, quickly because I see them shrinking. My sense of touch has ran away, my fingertips explore, the feeling of blankness is a texture itself. Blocks of darkness interrupt. The connection between mind and body has been severed; I act without thought-commands. I am terrified; he lies on me as I desperately crawl to reach the door.
     My heart plays a wild piece, short staccato beats. Alex tries to put my brain together, it has been taken apart and screwed back into place terribly wrong. Time and words are meaningless. I am a kitten, limp and weightless in his arms.
     Sleep ends the nightmare.

Glancing at passersby, I often think of their hopes, worries, memories. I make stories for them. Lives intersect, a tangle of paths crisscrossing and running over each other, through years and miles. Strangers are endlessly fascinating, because I'm confined to the thoughts and perspectives in my mind, and wish I could occupy their conscious and look through their eyes at a much different world. It's tiring to be one person. Our minds are endless solitary confinement.

Is there anything specific anyone would like me to write about in my next post? Any questions? I'm happy to oblige.
Love and thanks to: Ahava, Little Miss Thin, Rachel, Clarie, I do, I do., Lucy's Shadow, Judith Marie, Wings to Set me Free, Sam Lupin, xXzapxfireXx, Chloe, Too Fat for Words, Nauseated_Suchende, mylittlebone, catherineofsiena, AVY, and Helen. I am happily overwhelmed by all your caring kind words and advice. I hope you all have a wonderful and beautiful day. 

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

"borderline between what and what?"

My entire life could be etched into the wooden cracking frame of my bed, imprinted into the mattress, and intertwined with the covers. Intense energy excites me until I am too restless to drown in the depths of sleep. My bed is my refuge during the storm, and I cling to it as the chaotic waves churn beneath. I want to sleep.

I think about death and its inevitableness, for us and the billions before us. We write vastly differing stories from one another but the ending is always alike. Some wait passively, bitterly for death. Some slip into it unknowingly and peacefully. Others desperately chase after it, the end is elusive for them. I think about the day when I will fall from existence into memory, and I hope that someone will lay a flower for me. A dandelion or a rose. 

"I thought you were anorexic, what are you doing here?" the girl I vaguely know says to me bluntly. What am I doing here, at this frozen yogurt place with my friend? I resist telling her I think I am more bulimic than anorexic. Sometimes the excess of my body engulfs me and I am more trapped than ever in this foreign cage. Carrying anything, whether it is a purse, jacket, or papers, bothers me, this body is no exception. I wish I could leave it behind and run weightless and unburdened. 

The first time I read the words borderline personality disorder, BPD, was on my laptop, searching for the cause, the name, of my behavior and thoughts. And it all seemed to fit evenly together.
"Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is an emotional disorder that causes emotional instability, leading to stress and other problems.
With borderline personality disorder your image of yourself is distorted, making you feel worthless and fundamentally flawed. Your anger, impulsivity and frequent mood swings may push others away, even though you desire loving relationships."
I can't determine or diagnose if I actually have BPD from compulsively reading about it, but I feel I identify with the symptoms and the descriptions.

Symptoms: I've bolded the ones that relate to me.
Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment. 
A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships. 
Identity disturbance
Recurrent suicidal behavior ?  (I am not sure if cutting/suicidal thoughts qualify).
Emotional instability
Chronic feelings of emptiness
Inappropriate, intense anger
Transient, stress-related paranoid thoughts/severe dissociative symptoms

A BPD blog (incredibly well-written) I found recently: Beyond the Borderline Personality

Thanks to lovely people reading this! Thanks to the people who commented! Follow them! Each one of you made me smile. I hope you all have a very wonderful day and night!
Gymnast, Judith Marie, Lucy's Shadow, xXzapxfireXx, Chloe, Funeral of Youth, I do, I do., pursuit_of_happiness, and Sam Lupin

Sunday, March 11, 2012

passion and detachment

"I've never heard silence like this," she whispers. "I've never seen stars like this," I say. Against the icy hardness of the dock, we lie parallel to the broken glass waters. A dome of glittery powder above us, trees like black splotches of ink around the lake. The cutting beauty of it is heartbreaking. Later, we bring our frozen bodies back to life next to the flames. The red hot ribbons wrap around the logs, tighter and tighter, and I understand why moths are irresistibly drawn to a death lit by light.

I alternate between bingeing and fasting, passion and detachment. Even as I view food as a toxic pollutant, unclean and unsafe, I crave the contamination. I kneel on the white tiles, like so many others, and it comes back up in desperate heaves, and I swear never again, like we all say. But again and again, I fall. Yet I take comfort knowing that in order to have fallen, I have risen, a little at least.

Size double zero. The number in the tag of my jeans comforts me slightly and fails to erase the fat I clearly see in the mirror under the bright accusing lights. I despise every inch and pound.

I feel as if I have lived more months and years than my actual chronological age. Age and the complexities surrounding it fascinates me.

My very first time. His name is Alex. He has said he loves me; I see it in his eyes and feel it in his actions. His hipbones dug into me as he lay on top. Our breathing merges, our heartbeats run wildly. My clothes in a heap on the creaking wood floor next to the condoms, my mind in a tangle of tissue thin thoughts. As he entered me, the intense pain overwhelmed me, my legs involuntarily attempted to close. Deep rough thrusts. He finishes. We slip into sleep together under the dreamcatcher.

A researcher contacted me about a research study involving pro anorexia blogs/websites. I think it would help others gain a better understanding of eating disorders in general. If you would like to participate, click here

Love and thanks to these lovely people:

SilentNightmare - Thank you very much! I am not much of a writer though.
Judith Marie - I've missed you tons! I'm sorry for worrying you, I'm glad you are safe as well. :) My weight has remained stable unfortunately (sigh b/p). Much love and happiness to you too!
Sam Lupin - Hi love! You made me smile, and I'll hopefully keep smiling! It's nice to see that the layout of your blog has stayed relatively the same since the last time I was on blogger in December, I love returning to a familiar place, it fills me with comfort. I hope you have a lovely day!
Marie - Thank you for your sweet words, I hope you find lots of happiness today. <3
I do, I do. - Thank you lots! I feel motivated to post more frequently!
xXzapxfireXx- Thank you for the welcome back!:)
S.  - Hi it's been a while! I'm glad you are still here on blogger:)
Lucy's Shadow - Thank you, I'm happy to be back and to catch up on what everyone's been up to!
Depressed Skinny Mess - Many thanks for the welcome! You are beautiful and I've missed you!
Zoie - Thank you for the welcome, and also thank you for your email a while back!
Little Miss Thin <3 - I've missed you as well! I'm sorry for causing you worry, I hope you have been safe and happy lately! <3
Beth - Thank you! hugs and smiles! :)
Rain - Thank you for your lovely words, they made me smile! You are a wordsmith, I wish I could articulate comments as well as you. :) I hope you have a very beautiful day! <3

Sunday, March 4, 2012


I'm sorry, sorry, sorry for being away for a while, too long. I've thought of this place often, thought of the beautiful people often with that aching feeling in my heart, but stayed away for reasons I don't fully know or understand. I don't know if anyone still reads this blog, but I'm back, hopefully for good.

So much has changed, and so much has not. Food is still my refuge and hell. I am caught somewhere in the perpetual cycle of attempting to abandon the physical realm of needs and feelings through bingeing, purging, fasting, self-hate, control and lack of control. I still wish to become wispy and brittle like the branches of trees in the winter, even as the days grow warmer. I still wait for my bones to burst through the paper thin layer of skin.

But I've grown much older since my last post, I think, through experiences. Experiences that were awful, experiences that were unreal, experiences that were raw and beautiful. I shared myself with someone I love for the first time, sex is completely not what I had imagined. I remembered I had friends when I had my recent birthday party even as I threw up the ice cream cake in the bathroom. I'll elaborate on the events of January and February soon.

I hope everyone is safe, and hopefully happier. We all deserve happiness, though it seems increasingly difficult to find at times.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

dear Santa

His hands are fire, but the freezing picnic table sends shivers through my body, a bed surrounded by curtains of trees. We lie facing the sky above, the stars become a thousand iridescent strands of Christmas lights. Listening to the sounds of silence, I breathe in and out, almost motionlessly, to preserve this delicate moment, fragile and fleeting like a snowflake captured. My fears, hate, sadness, have left, replaced by pure innocent happiness and the world is everything I used to believe in.

I remember my misspelled letters to Santa, wanting dogs ponies everything, thinking that the white bearded man could make all my wishes come true. I am still young, and this year, this Christmas, is the first time I've truly reflected on what this holiday means to me, to others, to society. I've realized material possessions bring me momentary, fleeting happiness, but other more permanent things have continuously brought me joy throughout my life.

Friendship. Love. Health. Laughter. Passionate kisses. Gratitude. Intertwined hands. Rain and sunshine. Dreams during long hours of sleep. If only they could all be wrapped in shining gold paper and tape, hidden under the branches of the tree, and opened every day, each morning, for the rest of our lives. And maybe it's possible. Anything is within our reach, if our determination, will power is strong enough.

My letter to Santa would be white and unwritten this year, I'm not sure of what I truly want, think, feel anymore, but I trust in wherever this life leads me, even if the stars are black some nights.

Merry Christmas, I hope each one of you has had an amazing day. Stay positive, stay lovely, stay you. Never forget you are loved, because you are, I promise.
Thanks for commenting. <3
becca;- Thank you for your support dear.
stillimagining- I wish I had taken a picture when I used to be a size 2, I'll make sure I take one now. Thank you for the advice!
miss alisha- Your insight is always so thoughtful, thank you.
Anafly- I genuinely smiled when I read your comment.
Neeska- Reflections are a tricky thing, aren't they? I hope you have a lovely day!
Anonymous- I'm not sure at the moment, I'll elaborate in my next post perhaps, I wish I had a more definite answer to give you. I hope you are happy too, we all deserve to be.
Oceanic Melody73- Thank you so much for your support, I hope you've had an amazing day.
Chloe- Thank you bunches for the reassurance.
Judith Marie- You make me feel good, happy, proud of myself. Thank you for your encouragement, you are an amazing person, never forget.
Lucy's Shadow- Hugs! My wrist is fixed now, thank you for your concern.
Sam Lupin- I've missed your words, they remind me of the ocean.
Little Miss Thin <3- I hope I get a more accurate scale soon. Thank you for your comment!
Depressed Skinny Mess- I hope you have a lovely day, thank you for your support.
xXzapxfireXx- I can't wait to weigh myself more accurately, I hope you have an amazing day.
Olivia Lee- Thank you, I hope I can write as beautifully and well as you, one day.
AVY- Thank you for your comment.
Elle Marie- You are more amazing.
lulu- You will reach your goals, anything is possible, and your goals are within your reach.
Silvia- A thousand thanks for making me smile.
Zoie- I send my love also, thank you.
Princess Perfection- I've missed you tons, I'm ecstatic you're back dear.

Monday, December 5, 2011

double zero

Faded frayed pale blue size two jeans, lifelessly hanging like a corpse. It's been months since they've left the darkness of the closet. New stiff dark navy skinny jeans, double zero, on my legs, hanging perfectly. Counting backwards, 2, 1, 0, 00. Three sizes down and my reflection in the broken mirror has not changed at all. A new scale is desperately needed. Mine tells me 105 pounds, a friend's digital scale says 98. It's better to overestimate though, rather than believe lies. My period is a month late.

I once felt as if I was spilling out of myself, left with just a lonely body; lost and searching for the little pieces that ran away into a mirror and I followed. But now, I'm all here, I think. I function efficiently, I'm aware of my surroundings. I smile, cry, talk. I'm quite certain I deserve to be human again.

Dry crunchy single piece of bread, folded in half, hoping no one sees there's nothing inside, 65 calories. Three grapes. My stomach's learned not to growl anymore. Later, I purge two pieces of chocolate. Meat feels dirty, vegetarianism seems appealing.

The screen flickers metallic light and I see Alex searching in his closet. He hands me a drink, soda he says. It's my very first time, but I realize the strange taste of something, alcohol. We lay stretched out on his bed, me under the covers, cold. My head against his left shoulder, with his right hand, he casually flicks his knife, tossing it expertly. He's one of those inherently fascinating people with crazy stories, a life story more complex than fiction.

I know it can be difficult for us, anyone, to keep a true smile on their face. I'm here, always, if you need some encouragement or if you need a listener. We all need love. I love you all and I hope everyone has a beautiful, lovely day, because each one of you deserves it.

Thanks to
Little Miss Thin
Judith Marie
miss alisha
Lucy's Shadow
Depressed Skinny Mess
alice ana
Princess Perfection
Thin or Not
for all of your support and lovely words.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

broken wrist, broken spirit

I follow the train tracks, like bare empty bones, like ribs, fire colored trees on either side. Dry leaves breaking, the only sound I hear. The tracks pass under a bridge, and I pause. Bright, obscene graffiti, and beer cans scattered amongst the leaves. I'm all alone, but there's a sense of recklessness left behind from others who came to this same place. I continue carefully over the blue gray rocks and parallel bars of the tracks, past a sign forbidding trespassers, a shady nightclub. I'm tempted to lie down, to feel the hard tracks against my body, to hear the vibrations of the coming train.

A sharp intense pain explodes in my right wrist, a thousand times worse than anything I have ever felt in my lifetime. My words don't make sense and the world turns patches of dark. At the hospital, three hours pass before I'm given a pill of Ibuprofen. A fracture in my radius, the doctor says. Not one tear escapes during the entire time, physical pain is a short red papercut in comparison to emotional pain.

Alex tells me he hears that B has a girlfriend, freckles across her face. It's not confirmed yet, but I relapse into the familiar pattern. B, the guy I've known for five years, the guy who liked me when I was ugly, the one with the soft blue eyes, the one who trades jokes with me and slows down to walk beside me. Alex doesn't realize I'm sad, he tells me I can do better, tells me B is like boring like cardboard. I honestly thought he could save me from myself, believed he could help me be the type of person I had always hoped to be. I was stupid, for thinking he could care for me, thinking he could care for a girl with issues with food, intimacy, self injury, anger.

Avoiding eating is much easier now, with a broken wrist. I was having a 100 calorie day, until I  gave in to 300 calorie ice cream and two spoonfuls of peanut butter. I fit into double zero shorts now, tight, but they fit.

I don't want to always live in this faded world of self-destruction and hunger and despair and self-absorption, but where else can I go? Someone please show me the train tracks that lead away from here, I think I'm almost ready to follow them out.

Much love to
Sam Lupin
Depressed Skinny Mess
Judith Marie
Lucy's Shadow
miss alisha
deseperee de maigrir
Perfection and Ana
Nichole S.
for commenting. Each one of you beautiful people makes me smile with pure happiness.(: I'll be catching up on everyone's lovely blogs, but I might either leave a short comment or no comment, I apologize. I'm typing with one hand, but once my wrist heals, I'll be able to blog more frequently.