Thursday, December 31, 2009

I have eaten far too many cookies this morning.
I was up by 2 ounces today, which doesn't shock me, however much it disappoints me.
I have to go to a massive party tonight (the sleep-over variety), so here are my goals:

-have stomach growl at least once before going to sleep
-stay AWAY from chocolate fountain
-decline breakfast
-do not go over 168.9 pounds (as of tomorrow when I get home)

I'm going to chow on lo-mein when my mother gets home. She's intent on feeding me, and stopping at nothing (also known as buying my favorite foods). It's the last lo-mein I have until I'm 150, I promise...

My mom asked me yesterday what my "weight-loss secret" was. I stared at her for a minute.
"Is it just like, staying out of the kitchen and stuff?"
Um, yes, mom. If that's what you'd like to think.

I'm sorry. I was trying to make this short. Okay. I'm going to stay away from the chocolate fountain, eat fruit, decline breakfast, starve if I can...

Stay strong everyone!


Pro-Ana gets an amazingly negative face. I've been having one of my Ana nights (although I may sleep soon, it's almost 5am and I'm starting to feel tired), and I've seen a lot of Anti-Pro-Ana, proclaiming the negativity and corruption of Pro-Ana websites and blogs.

I feel that Pro-Ana gets as much neg rep as anorexia itself.

Here's what (most) people see when they see anorexia:
-think everyone else is fat
-messed the fuck up

My image of the true anorexia?
-messed the fuck up

I feel like these people view pro-ana the same way that they do anorexia. That it's just one big tra-la-la, ha-ha, look at those fat people while I'M skinny, giving young girls advice on how to kill themselves by starvation.

I see it as losing control, dying of anorexia. I mean, we crave control right? Over our bodies, over our minds. Doesn't dying just negate all that we worked for?

Maybe I'm crazy. I probably should be in therapy more often. I think I may be bipolar, which would explain a lot...

As for Pro-Ana, all it's ever been to me is support. Support I can't find with my normal, healthy friends. Support that comes in the form of people I've never met, people I never will meet, who truly do care about me and want me to succeed in what I do. If I were to choose recovery, right now, I could almost guarantee at least one person who reads this blog thinking "Good for her." I don't believe that anyone would look down upon me for striving to become better. Sure, they might miss me, my random comments and outbursts (doubtful :]). But they would never scorn me.

Long live the real Pro-Ana. MY Pro-Ana.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

So maybe I caved and had an extra (large) bowl of ice cream after my first bowl. I shall not break down, for these reasons:
1. It was "lite" ice cream (at 140 calories in a half-cup... not bad for ice cream).
2. I went and worked out afterward, for the entirety of John Tucker Must Die (excellent movie, I absolutely love revenge plans).
3. I burned exactly 700 calories (or so the treadmill tells me).

The next time I have a melt-down like yesterday, someone please tell me to just go fucking exercise. I forget how happy it makes me feel.

So no, despite my lack of control, I will not go to bed despondent and weary. I will bounce into bed, waking up tomorrow daisy-fresh.

I'll say a little prayer for you.


There's a gallon of ice cream downstairs. Some kind of deathly chocolate and nut concoction. I know I'm not exactly what one would call the religious type, but I need some help. Please help to give me the strength to chug some water and settle for only a half-cup of the monstrosity. Please give me the strength to not binge tonight, and to lose more weight tomorrow. Please give me the strength to stay away from the chocolate fountain that my friend has rented for her New Year's Eve party, and let me not be tempted by the cookies I'll be baking, along with whatever other goodies will be there. Help me to ring in the New Year with a new weight, a thinner, happier, more beautiful and courageous me.
Thank you for my wonderful friends on this blogging community, they truly keep me sane. I feel like I really know them, after only a few months, and I feel more support in this community than I have anywhere else.

Okay, I'm completely sorry for my little meltdown yesterday. I don't know what was wrong with me- I didn't binge. But I didn't starve. And I couldn't purge.

I was scared shitless to get on the scale this morning (well, afternoon). So I first stepped on in all my clothes. It read 169.4. "Good," I thought, "At least I'll be 168."


New. Low. Weight. And at first, can you believe, I wasn't even excited. Probably because I know it can never stay. But still.

Thank you, all of you, whether you've only read one post of my blog, whether you creep but don't subscribe, and of course to my lovelies who do subscribe. Thank you for putting up with my breakdowns, my binges, my happy days, my sad days, and thank you for your encouraging words all throughout.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Ana: What a fuckup. She can't do anything right. Like starve.
Chloe: Or binge.
Mia: Or purge.
Ana: She just sits there, staring in the mirror, wondering why nothing ever works.
Chloe: Maybe because she eats like a cow?
Mia: I wonder if she knows we snicker at her.
Ana: I wonder if she knows she can never be my best friend.
Chloe: I wonder if she knows she always uses me when she has a problem. And I love it.

I know. I'm sorry I'm such a failure.

Ana: Why can't she be pretty and thin, like me?
Chloe: Why can't she just not give a fuck like she used to?
Mia: Oh, she always gave a fuck. That's how she met me once. I haven't seen her since.
Ana: I thought you two were supposed to hang out, that time she ditched me for you?
Chloe: Actually, she ditched both of you for me.
Mia: Figures. You're her fucking safety blanket.

I know. I'm sorry I'm such a failure.

Ana: Don't those bones starting to show mean anything to you? Your wrists, your collarbone?
Chloe: There's more food downstairs. Waffles. Chicken. Candy. Potatoes. French fries.
Mia: If you listen to her, make sure to stop by later.
Ana: Don't you dare listen to either of them. Focus on me, sweetie.
Chloe: You won't make her happy, I will.
Mia: No, I will!
Ana: You're both wrong. I will.


Wait. Don't leave me alone.
I'm going to try to get to bed at ten.. If I can hold out until then, I'll be golden.

I almost caved. I was chewing some walnuts from the organic bulk foods section of my grocery store that I got a few days ago. I don't know why, I just shoved them in my mouth. And chewed.

I've taken to spitting out my food lately. It's easier than purging, at least for me. After I chew it for a good minute or thirty seconds, it's so gross that I don't even want to swallow it anymore. So I spit it out.

Unfortunately, this is harder when there are people around...

Anyway, I'll be needing some advice soon. More later on what advice I need, I'm going to go see what movies are on Cinemax.

Happy the hard way.

I'm kind of disillusioned with the world.

After last night's binge, I'm at an incredible 168.6 (that's two ounces LOWER than yesterday's morning weight). I made a smoothie at 160 calories, which leaves me just enough calories left for a VitaminWater10 for dinner. Lately I've been pushing ABC aside, telling it "Oh, tomorrow, tomorrow I'll get back on track." Today, Ana says no. Ana wants to hear the stomach growl, to feel the abs burn after 500 crunches. Sometimes Chloe (my affectionate name for COE/BED?) taunts me. But not today.

I don't get it, just one little chocolate couldn't be so bad...

Ana: Don't you fucking dare. Fatass. You know you can't stop at one.
Chloe: Do it. Do it. You know you want to. You know eating all of it will put a smile on your face.
Ana: NO! It'll only make you regret it later. If you shove that in your mouth, I'll make you pay.
Chloe: Don't listen to her. She's such a downer. Eat it. EAT it. What's the worse that could happen?
Ana: You'll get FAT. Well, who are we kidding, fattER. You'll be more of a cow than you already are.
Chloe: She's being overdramatic. You aren't fat. You'll never be fat, not with me as your friend!
Ana: She's lying to you. She'll never tell you the truth. The only two things in the world that will tell you the truth are me and your fucking mirror...

At this point, I'm generally curled in a fetal position, trying to get the voices out of my head. I am so fucked up.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Sleep calories.


According to this nifty website I found (, I burned approximately 1,000 calories sleeping last night. Now, I know I promised to stop posting multiple times in a day, but SHIIIT. If I had known I burn that much while I sleep, I would get a whole lot more sleep on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. I mean, that's better than when I work out!

Off to sleep and burn this fat stomach right off by SLEEPING. :D :D :D :D


edit (2am)

But first: 500 crunches! YESS.
"Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough."

Q: How strong is your determination?

"You're pointing out my every fault."

For some reason, this blog feels like not allowing me to indent today. Oh, the things that bother me...

I'm down to 168.8 today (from yesterday's 171 (I think? Maybe it was 172...) yess!). Yes, I did just put parentheses inside parentheses. I'll admit, I didn't liquid fast like I was supposed to, I had 2 cookies and a cheese stick (V you are allowed to yell at me for lying to you in my email. Apologies!), but I'm going to work out later, and I'm leaving to take pictures soon.

I've decided to do weekly thinspo, every Sunday, as much as possible. Let me know how this sounds. If you, at some point during the week, absolutely NEED thinspo, drop me a comment. I usually check this thing obsessively at least five times a day (hence my multiple posts...such a dork), so your thinspo prayers shall be answered.

However, I wanted to give a shout-out/thank you/"your comment made me smile and may have made my day" to Jen Jen, who commented on my last post (someone please teach me to do that linky thing with people's names. I suck at computers/internet/life).

Sunday, December 27, 2009

more thinspo, fifth post today...

(I only went to French 3, and correct me if I'm wrong. I'm pretty sure this translates to: "It is necessary to suffer to be beautiful.")

Since no one has bitch slapped me, I think I'll post a fifth time.

Well, I just went to work out. Thank you, V, for the confidence that I would resist the cookies.
And surprisingly, I did.
I went upstairs, all ready to eat a few cookies and cheese sticks, with some skim milk (my favorite). I looked at the cookie, pulled it out, smelled its delicious goodness, and freaked out. I ran back downstairs and finished watching Hamlet 2 (so fucking offensively hilarious).

Some thinspo for you :]

Still a master chef. Working on mastering my stomach.

You're looking at the first person to make my Nana's cookies since she died in 2000. No one else has been able to recreate her amazing chocolate chip and cornflake cookies.

Now, I'm kicking myself. For several reasons.
Sunday dinner apparently means forcing me to shove food down my throat while my parents watch. Therefore, my fast was completely sucker-punched around 5:30.
Also, when you make the first successful batch of cookies, you're bound to want some. I'm heading upstairs once my last batch is done, to chug Diet Mountain Dew and go to bed early so I'm not tempted by these delicious sin-cookies.
My final reason is..... Goddammit. Don't you hate when you're in the middle of a thought and suddenly it goes out the window? I'm going to liquid fast for 150 tomorrow. Lots of random thoughts strung together here.
OH. My final reason: I promised to stop multiple postings. I'm sorry. :[ Such a fucking fatass failure.

I am a master chef.

I know, I promised no more multiple posts. But I thought I'd let you all know that I'm making dinner for my family tonight. I had a craving last night to CREATE. So now, I'm creating.

What am I creating? Cornflake chicken with steamed broccoli and cornbread, with my Nana's famous chocolate chip cookies for dessert.
What am I eating? A specially made small cookie, and one smallsmallsmall slice of cornbread, at exactly midnight.
Why? Today is a fast day.
Am I done with the rhetorical questions? Yes. :]


Saturday, December 26, 2009

Early in the morning.

I decided tonight would be an Ana Night.
In case you don't know (which you don't, because I haven't documented my Ana Nights before), basically what my Ana Night is is an all-nighter. I will stay up all night, I will probably look at thinspo and read blogs while drinking my Diet Mountain Dew (heaven!) Tonight, I will marvel in awe at my matte red nails (thank you, Essie!), make some tea, chug said tea at room temperature, brush my teeth, change my contacts, and look at more thinspo.

These nights started when I first began restricting. I can't remember how I was introduced to the Pro-Ana community, but somehow, I'm here. Usually once a month, I have these insane nights when I can't fall asleep. I'll lay in bed thinking if it's a school night, until my dad decides to go to bed, which enables me to flip open my MacBook and Google the night away.
It's almost 2:00 here, which means I'm pretty much golden. If I make it to 4 a.m., my body decides to be a total fucker and make me hyper, without the use of coffee or caffeinated sodas. By 11 a.m. I'm crashing, and I usually end up in bed before 7:00 p.m. Yes, my sleep schedule is truly fucked. But then again, so is the rest of me.

I am a Product Junkie.

Truth. I love make-up and skincare items.
I'm going to stop posting multiple times every day, I promise. I must get annoying. 
But can I just say how much I absolutely love Ulta? It's pretty much the love child from Sephora and a drug store. 
K I'm done. I promise.

Day After Christmas Blues

I always get excited when I wake up the day after Christmas, ready to open presents and have fun, only to realize that Christmas already happened. Well, fuck me.

After reading the scale at 171.4 (gasp..), I've decided to fast until New Year's, and see how far that actually takes me, hopefully closer to my goal of 165 by New Year's Eve. I already slipped up today, had a Ferrero Rocher Rondnoir (that's the dark chocolate kind). But hey, it was good. 60 calories only today is fine with me. The serving size for those chocolates is 4 pieces, total of 240 calories! Who wants to waste all those calories on four bitty little pieces of chocolate?! Not me...

I digress. 

I found this awesome tip on a random Pro-Ana website last night: 
"Make a list of all the "bad" foods that you crave and tend to binge on. Each day, pick one to take out of your diet that you absolutely, no matter what, cannot eat again. Take one off the list each day until there are no more bad foods you can have."

I made my list (50 items) and crossed off the first one: chocolate. Without realizing it, I had chocolate for breakfast.. Whoopsie. Anyway, I'm trying this one out to see if it'll work. I want to see how long I can actually go without eating chocolate (I'm not counting fat-free hot cocoa as chocolate, seeing as it has 50 calories, and it's liquid). 

Love you all; my commenters, my readers, those creepy people who just come and read and don't bother subscribing or commenting. :] You keep me strong, even when I mess up like I have this past week.

Friday, December 25, 2009

fuck you. fuck. you.

I was going to just leave this alone today.
I was going to just have a nice binge-eating disorder day, and try not to think about how fat everything was making me. 
I wasn't going to blog today.

Gee, thanks dad.
If I had a dollar for every time he's said something to me about my weight, I'd be absofuckinglutely rich.
Today at dinner, people commenting on what I'm eating (dinosaur chicken and mashed potatoes- because I don't like beef, and I have to put up a normal front in front of my extended family). My dad starts in on how all I eat is chicken tenders, bread, and potatoes. Clearly someone doesn't look in the cupboard at my vitamin water and Luna bars. Clearly, someone doesn't notice me not even eating dinner.
And they wonder why I have self-esteem issues.

I mentioned that I have lost twelve pounds since October (yes!).
His next comment? "Uh-huh. (laughs sarcastically) It's really all about exercise. If she exercised for an hour every day, she could be 105 pounds."
Way to fucking be dad. Not only would I be underweight at 105 (heaven! But if I follow his advice, he'll think he's the only one that knows shit. If I were 105 they'd tell me to eat MORE. pass.), but he's really not fucking one to talk. After losing a ton of weight, he's fucking gone and gained it right back.
When I'm skinny, I'll be the one laughing. Starting now, no food until Monday. Nothing solid at all. I'm back on track and ready to prove everyone wrong.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

merry fucking christmas.

Not only am I a fatass (read previous novel), I'm a failure (also, previous novel-post).
All my life I've just wanted to fit in. I can't even fit into a size 9, how can I ever expect to fit in? 
I'm always the awkward one in social situations. Always the one who never knows what to say. I wish I could be one of those girls who just doesn't care, doesn't have these goddamn self-esteem issues. But I can't.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

Fuck Gertrude Hawk. Fuck Godiva. Fuck chocolate that always tempts me.
This morning, well afternoon, I woke up at  1:00. I took a shower, waiting for my stomach to start grumbling. It didn't. I wandered downstairs, through the kitchen, to the computer room, and had a little conversation with my dad. Is he mad at me? He's acting kind of bitchy. Whatever. I don't care.
I wandered back to the kitchen, going to make some tea. On my way I passed a box of Gertrude Hawk caramel Smidgens. Death. I said to myself, oh, I'll just have one. I had FOUR. That's 220 WASTED calories! On a day that was supposed to be a fast! I have NO FUCKING CONTROL. I'm going crazy.
Not only that, but after I got a glass of ice water, I grabbed a Godiva bar. I ate almost all of it. Then got disgusted with myself. That's another 150 calories. Fuck fuck fuck. I'm not eating anything else the rest of the day. Fuck. I'm such a fucking failure.


I love my mom. I really do. Why does she have to come home, come home with food, yummy food like lean sliced turkey, potato chips, milk, and tell me to eat it? Fuck. She knows I don't need the calories. And lately, any and all food has been upsetting my stomach (read, diarrhea. Ew. Too much information? Deal with it.) and I'm sick of curling up in a fetal position on my bed.
I need to get out tomorrow. Maybe I'll go sledding with friends or something like that. Calories burned and totally fun, plus it gets me out of the house and out of the kitchen.

This is why I hate being at home, hate being on break. At least when I'm at school, I'm doing things, not eating constantly.
I was at 169 this morning, but I expect it will go up from three days of eating absolute SHIT.
Sorry for the really long post. I have a lot of feelings. 

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

New Year's Goal

Fuck me for posting so much today. I don't know what to do with myself when I don't have school. I'll be out of he house tomorrow, not bothering anyone..

My New Year's Goal is to be 165 or under by January 1st. I'm going to have a little binge tonight, with dino chicken and possibly Godiva. But probably just the dino chicken, I get so full after awhile. I love dino chicken. And I really want a burger.
Tomorrow I'm going to fast, and then I'm going to be strict about my ABC. Truly, I am. 
Going to make dino chicken now. Bad idea, I know. But... well I can't think of anything to rationalize this decision right now, but I'll think of something later! :]

Fuck the dino chicken. I'm back up to 172. Fuck fuck fuck. I'm going to bed now, before I eat more fucking SHIT.


I always fuck things up. Why am I so out of control? Why? I'm such a fucking idiot. I can never do anything right.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.."

It's finally snowing. I hate global warming. My city used to hold nationwide records for record snowfall over a year.. Not so much anymore. New York City is blanketed in snow, and we had maybe an inch of snow. Despicable.
But the flakes are gently falling, promising a soft, snowy, Christmas Eve. My apologies if you don't observe Christmas, but it's my favorite holiday after Halloween, mostly because of the snow. And the presents (hey, I'm a materialistic person!). But mostly the snow.
My dad decided to be a dick today and NOT allow me to sleep until noon, yelling at me when I did, then going off on his own, when the reason I wanted to go out today was to get my own present for my mother. Puck you sir. I said puck you, with a P. (Summer Heights High ahhh!)
Seeing as I can't legally drive, I'm going to have to convince someone to give me a ride to Barnes and Noble to get her present. Fuuuck. I hate last-minute shopping! So many people!

And I haven't even discussed Ana today. Ah well. I'm determined to lose as much as possible before Christmas Eve, but it's so hard with all the cookies my mom made and all the chocolate she brings home from work. I need some support here so I don't go snarf it all down.. Anyone? :[

Some old-movie thinspo for me, for you.
These pictures are of Vera-Ellen, one of my idols. She was in the movie "White Christmas", one of my favorite holiday movies. :]

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

very. good. day.

I can't believe I actually got the part! A junior was officially picked over a senior, this means big celebration!
On top of that, I liquid fasted until I was forced to eat pizza by a friend who finds it necessary to notice every fucking thing I eat.
Fuck the pizza.
Fuck my inability to throw up.
Fuck all of that.
On top of this big accomplishment, I made it to my first weight goal of 168 pounds. Well, 168.4, but I'm rounding down. I'm so happy. This is officially twelve pounds lost from my HW of 180. Yay!
Sometime over Christmas break, I'm going to try this saltwater flush I've read about on almost every blog. It sounds good. :] Happy holidays, and stay skinny!


Twenty gathered in a circle, glaring at a wide-eyed girl with a trembling lower lip. She looked around at them, then back down at the cluster of desks. Her gaze darted back and forth from face to face.
"Flipper?" She held out a green card towards the center of the group.
"Yesssss!" A student leapt up to grab the prize.
The rest of the sixteen and seventeen year old Advanced Placement English students moaned and shuffled their red cards.
The Apples-to-Apples game was almost over- and so was the day.
"Okay... How about.. beautiful?" 
"No way!" the guys chorused, "So boring!"
Within ten minutes, the game was cleaned up, the class now gathered anxiously by the door, waiting for the final bell to ring.
My heart was pounding, as I squeezed the hand of my friend. It was posted, waiting downstairs. It had been the Never-Ending Day, each class longer than it had the right to be.
End-of-the-day announcements were read.
"Blah blah blah, students raised over, blah blah blah, total of about five thousand dollars..."
"NO ONE CARES," screamed the voice in my head. "JUST LET THE BELL RING."
I stayed silent, tapping my foot.
We ran downstairs, shoving people in the hallway. When I reached the door where it would be posted, a swarm of people had already gathered around, pointing fingers and reading names.
I pushed my way through, saw names listed. My jaw dropped. My eyes bulged. I screamed bloody murder.

Monday, December 21, 2009


I'm so scared to go to school tomorrow. On the bright side, it's a dress down day. But if I'm not casted I'm going to be devastated. Must hope hope hope for the best.
Mostly, I'm afraid they're going to cast one girl simply because it's her senior year. But she's had a part in every show since seventh grade! So, all in all, I do believe it's time to pass the torch. I'm so nervous. I want this more than I've wanted anything ever. With the exception of wanting to be skinny...


I love getting comments, they brighten my day! :]
I also love emails (hint hint! XD
I won't know until tomorrow about play part results (fingerscrossed). So I've decided until then, not a morsel of food shall pass my lips. Only liquids. And if I don't get the part, I shall not binge. I shall not cry. I shall smile, and go on with my life. 
Overall good day, despite the milk chocolate nutcracker now sitting in my stomach (220 fucking calories!!), and I will be speaking to you tomorrow, loves.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

The Semi-Formal Mystery

I was just looking through pictures of my friend's semi-formal pre-dance picture bonanza. I noticed something: the three skinny girls? Dates. The not-quite-as-skinny girls stood awkwardly together on the other side of the frame. Story of my life chicas. Story. Of. My. Life.

"Not all roads lead to Rome;; 'Cause this one leads to the hell back home."

Up today. My throat kills. Thank God I finally got my tea again.. I'm so obsessed with this little protrusion of bone on the inside of my right wrist. But my left wrist doesn't match!! Oh my, I'm even more asymmetrical than before! Fuck.
If you guys want the best tea ever, 0 calories. So naturally sweet, you don't need sugar (this coming from a sugar-hound...I don't do artificial sweeteners except in Diet Mountain Dew). It's called "Organic Throat Coat" by Traditional Medicinals. In my grocery store, it's in the organic packaged foods section under medicinal teas. And soooo yummy. 
I'm really nervous for Monday, and I think my eating this weekend is because of it. I have a callback for my school play, and there's one part that both I and this senior bitch have our hearts on. I'm praying so hard, I want it so bad. But I generally don't get things that I really want. Maybe if I was thinner they'd actually consider me for the main role..
When I was doing my singing audition, the music director had a whole group of us singing by the piano. The main role is a soprano. So of course, it would make sense to audition altos for that part, and not let me try it out, even though I'm one of the best sopranos he has (not to toot my own horn or anything). So much fucking sense. I know it's because I'm fat. Also, because the guy who plays all the male leads in our musicals is only 5'9". He needs someone miniature to play opposite, and I realize that. That's why I've got to lose.

currently listening to: 
Boys Will Be Boys
Every Avenue

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Funny story..

That story about eating all the gummies after a five-day fast made me laugh, because my gummy vitamins are gone, gone, gone. I ate them, all of them. Finished them only two days after I got them, but damn, they are gooood.
Speaking of gummies, a bag of them is sitting in my desk, taunting me. I had a few, but they're starting to make me feel sick (the pizza that was shoved down my throat earlier is already upsetting my stomach). So I shoved them in the drawer. Anyone want $3.95 worth of 12-flavor gummy bears and sour worms? No? Me either. I'm going to bring them in to school on Monday and make my friends eat them. Good riddance.
The reason I have these little devils is because I had a dream last night about them. At the time, I thought I had the dream because I craved them, needed them. I now realize I had the dream to tell myself how fucking fat I am that I dream about food constantly. Needless to say, tomorrow will be a fast day, even though it's not on my ABC.
I was back down to 169.4 this morning (er, afternoon. I woke up at three). So now I'm going to cut out more little snowflakes to decorate the Christmas tree with! I love the holidays!

Thursday, December 17, 2009


Even though today was horrible, there's always a silver lining. I have a new email buddy to do ABC with, which extremely excites me to the point of checking my email every five minutes anxiously. I'm such a loser. XD
True story. If anyone else wants to be my buddy as well, if my facts are incorrect and someone actually does read this, my ED email is
Don't be afraid. You can call me Rosie or Charlie. My name is actually Charlotte Rose, so I go by either.
Surprisingly optimistic for someone who ate a crapload of fudge. Starting over on ABC tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Yet another reason life is unfair?
I was trying to think of a good title for this. I really was. But there's only so many cliches you can say "life's not fair" with. But even that is so whiny and cliched. It makes me want to vomit. But..
Life's not fair. I think I'm finally starting to accept- wait. No. I will never accept that life isn't fair. I will never be able to accept that someone who is as bitchy as LD could ever get into Newhouse, the school I want to go to. I will never be able to accept that my grandmother, possibly the kindest, most caring woman to me besides my own mother, died of a rare cancer, that my aunt now has breast cancer. I will never be able to accept the torment that has pushed me near the breaking point, and that my tormentors will not and have not been punished. 
I found a picture of a guy I knew in middle school. He and I were both chubby then, he was a perv, and kind of ugly. A loner. Today? He's got six-pack abs and a girlfriend. I'm still fat, ugly. It seems so much easier for most guys than it does for girls. Why?

Monday, December 14, 2009

"Too many rings around Rosie;; Will never get Rosie a ring."

I took a three hour nap instead of working out. It was amazing.

"Baby are you down, down, down, down."

Yes. I am. Past the fucking 170 mark. Down to 169.0. I should've weighed myself before my mini-binge caused by too much caffeine and too little nutrients. I'm going to go work out for about an hour after I finish this post.
I got these awesome One-A-Day Vitamins today; they're GUMMIES. For ADULTS. It makes me feel like a little kid again! I love it, they're so yummy it's hard to only eat the daily two. I found milk chocolate calcium supplements and told my mom to get them for me for Christmas. I plan on getting down a bit before then, there's a guy at my church... Got time for a story? I sure do, considering I'm skipping dance tonight!
So I've known this guy since we were little. He's two years older than me, in college right now. I told him last year that I liked him (stupidstupidstupid), but he was already trying to get this other girl. Tell me how blondes with dark brown eyebrows are ATTRACTIVE? Please?! Even if she's a natural blonde (which it appears to be), when you have Jonas-Caterpillars for eyebrows, how do you manage to even get guys to like you? And get this: they met in a Driver's Ed car. How nauseating. His mother felt the need to tell me that story at his grad party. Anyway. I was always so mean to him as a kid, you know the girls-hate-guys-hate-girls-cooties thingamajig. And I eventually started liking him. I was an awkward adolescent. Short hair. Glasses. Short, chubby, unfortunate clothing. So now, my hair issues are straightened out (literally, figuratively, whateveratively), my clothes are a lot better, I know how to wear makeup, glasses no longer mar my face (thank you, contacts), and he still goes for this other girl. Am I a bitch? Yes. But we fight and bicker like only people meant for each other can. At least, I'd like to think.
Now that this is a fucking monologue, getting on with it. He goes to my church, I haven't seen him in ages, I'd like to look decently slightly thinner than I did last time he saw me (around 175 lbs). Oh, and his girlfriend dumped him. Bonus!
There's another attractive guy at my church, but he's an elusive story for another rainy day.
I'm going to walk a few miles on the treadmill now. I'm putting an elliptical on my Christmas List; fat chance, but with my room cleaned and grades up-ish... Speaking of, got a 77 on my history test. Fuck..
Off. Love the non-people (aka no one) who read this stupid, lazy attempt at a blog. 

Sunday, December 13, 2009


This word haunts me. I know I'm not anorexic. I know I'm not bulimic. But does beating myself up over not being able to control my eating like I should, not being able to truly starve make me wannarexic? 
God knows I never asked for disordered eating. I know I eat disorderedly. But where does the line between wanna- and disordered really exist? Am I making up my binge-eating disorder to compensate for the fact that I eat too much , used to eat more than too much on a regular basis? How did I even get introduced to the Pro-Ana community? I don't remember. Another sleepless night like this one. 
Am I wanna? It worries me to think that might be true.
Am I disordered? Most likely.
Am I fucked up? Definitely.
Since my daily torture, I've felt like the loser, the wannabe, the outcast. Always one step behind, always one beat too late. I never want to be the one on the outside, the one longing to be a part of the action, again. And that makes me a wannabe. All my fears have been confirmed. Fuck.

"I got to fold 'cause these hands are just too shaky to hold."

I've been off all week, since I've been grounded for not cleaning my room. The computer was taken, the phone and guitar were next.
The room is clean. The computer is back in my greasy, greedy, chubby fingers. And my stomach is growling. 414 calories today, along with serious cleaning, as opposed to yesterdays over 1000 cal binge. Yay. :]
I think my therapist suspects some sort of eating disorder from me. I really do. Lucky me I only see her once a month though.. Besides, my problem isn't any eating disorder, it's not being able to control what I eat. When I start eating, I don't stop until I want to puke. So it's better not to eat.
I'm getting back on track with ABC tomorrow, 250 calories. Hopefully my willpower will hold out. I'll be able to go to the art room for lunch, I think. Luna bar for breakfast, Diet Coke for lunch, cheese stick and dance class for dinner? Sounds good. I'm starting to think of this as a game, testing myself: how long can I go without caving? Not long enough, that's for sure.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Fatter each day

I'm running as fast as I can. I'm trying so hard. SO hard. My school has a bake sale for the Junior Post-Prom Party. HOW ABOUT A CAR WASH INSTEAD. Instead of forcing me to bake brownies to smell brownies to salivate over brownies to eat brownies to let brownies make me fatter.
I went to my therapist for the second session today. We got into my self-esteem issues. Bleh. What. Ever. She's making me make a list of things I value about myself. Well, how about I make a list here of things I DON'T value about myself.

1. No self-confidence
2. Lower than low self-esteem
3. Fat. Anything more to say? No. Just FAT.
4. Ugly
5. Damaged hair
6. Greasy skin
7. Scars on my leg
8. Clumsy
9. No self-control
10. Bingeing.
11. My deformed pinkies
12. My middle-class life
13. My "friends" who aren't really even friends
14. My friends who make me eat
15. Chocolate for even being introduced to me
16. Freckles
17. Compulsive nail-biting
18. Too-big boobs
19. Disproportionate body
20. Zits

That'll be all for now. I could go on.
I'm going to have to go back to my old form of journaling, with my notebook, because I'm officially grounded for not cleaning my room. Fuck you, Dad. He took away my computer, and the only reason I'm typing this now is because I'm getting pictures for my art project.
I binged like crazy today. I don't even have the guts to throw it all up. I don't even know how many calories I was supposed to have tomorrow, because my ABC list is on my computer. So I'm just going to go Monday 100, Tuesday 200, Wednesday 300, Thursday 300, Friday 200, Saturday 100, Sunday fast. Pray for me, anyone who bothers to read this.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Just a little taste.

I thought I'd give a little bit of reverse thinspo, seeing as I could really use it after this weekend. :[

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Dear Fat Me,

I hate you. Why can't you be pretty or skinny or confident or athletic or desirable? All you ever do is whine and complain without ever doing anything, or just stuffing your fat face. When bones on your wrists start appearing for the first time in your life, why do you throw it all away on waffles and bacon?! Throw it away on CELERY. On FRUIT. On good, healthy things that will make your skinnier.
I give you the gift of ABC and you trash it for three days straight. You are not worthy of love from anyone, especially not V, or C, or any other guy you might have had your eye one. Your refusal to stay on track with anything pisses me off, as does your lack of self control. You will never be as good as you should be. Never ever. Why would you ever even think that you would be worth anything? Now get off your ass and stay strong and get skinny. Do whatever it takes. But I'll still hate you. Only a tiny bit less.

Skinny Inner-Me

Good day, sir.

ABC = new best friend. I'm down to a new low weight, 170.2 (pre-dance class). After bitching and moaning about not losing weight, I'm finally down. Now I have six days to lose eight pounds to reach my goal, two of which I'll be forced to eat dinner in front of people at restaurants.
Tonight was one of the hardest ballet classes of my life, being fatigued from not eating and only getting four hours of sleep. It. Felt. Amazing. :]

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Shits and giggles.

Just wrote an entire long paragraph about EDs for my psychology term paper. Made me giggle to myself.

Tomorrow will never be better.

I'm not even going to start off talking about ABC. Because it's pointless after today. Tomorrow will be a fresh start.
I just found out ten minutes ago that my aunt may have breast cancer. My mom is scared shitless and so am I, for her, for her family, for us. She's my mom's favorite sister. We won't know until Friday or Monday if it really is or not.
On top of that, I forgot to pack my lunch today. Which meant I would be forced to buy food from the cafeteria, by my psychopath friends who don't realize that I DON'T NEED FOOD.. Which means I get the choice between greasy french fries, greasy chicken, or greasy mozzarella sticks. I chose the mozzarella sticks, because there were only four of them. Big mistake. Not only that, but as I was eating, they watched me carefully. Too carefully. Then dragged me up to the concession stand to buy a Snickers for me. And watch me with eagle eyes choke it down. I wanted to puke so bad.
Times like this one make me wish I could make myself puke. But I hate it. It makes me feel out of control and not myself.
Total calorie damage today was 690, 190 calories over my daily limit. Fuck. On top of that, I can't exercise because I have a term paper to write, and I just got home. Bedtime (yeah, I'm a junior in high school with a bed time) is at 10:30. Four hours to write a five to seven page paper. Fuck me.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Crazy shit man.

I'm so pissed it's not even funny. I didn't even eat over 500 calories. I think I'm going to try ABC, because clearly liquid fasting does nothing for me right now, starting tomorrow. Which will technically be day 2, considering I managed less than 500 today (I hate starting at Day 1, I don't know why. It's intimidating).
This means I'll eat at lunch without people questioning me about why I'm not eating. A friend offered to buy me a Snickers today. Snickers is possibly my one weakness, beside brie cheese. I refrained, but it was devastating to my inner COE watching her eat that Snickers right in front of me.
And now I need to stop procrastinating and write my term paper.


Is what I want to be. However, the current topic is not that, it's actually my fucking PSAT scores. Which. SUCK. Usually, I'm the kind of person who doesn't study and gets an A+. My PSAT scores would tell you otherwise, however. So I'm looking around on my school's website, and stumble across the college site (it's a website to help us get into college, I guess). So I think, "Oh, maybe my PSAT scores are up by now!"
Unfortunately, they were. I got a 160 on my PSAT, equivalent to a 1600 on the SAT. My life is so fucked. No scholarship offers now, there go my chances of making NHS (actually, those chances flew out the window when I got my first 89 in history..), there goes my journalism career. Fuckit.
On a brighter note, my liquid fast went incredible today. I had coffee (with lots of sugar and fat-free milk) for breakfast, a VitaminWater10 for lunch, and I'm currently drinking my soup for dinner. Unfortunately, my dad is sleeping in the only room with a scale, so I can't properly weigh myself. I weighed myself with shorts and a cami, and I'm back UP a pound again. I was so pissed at myself I stormed downstairs and ate a banana and a cheese stick. Failure.
I'm having another coffee while I write my psychology term life is so screwed right now. I might as well just give up- I'm not going to make it into college.

Sunday, November 29, 2009


I can never make it. Fuck me. Fuck.
I was doing so so sooo well. My stomach was growling and it felt good. Then someone said something about Bruegger's (the most amazing bagels in the entire world). I was so happy until I caved. They knew I didn't eat breakfast. They pushed me and nudged me right to Bruegger's. Right to the 320 cal plain bagel with 90 cal cream cheese. Right to the tortilla chips that someone had left out at play practice. Right to the Tantalizing Croissant.
My friend, my skinny, size-00-is-too-big-for-her friend was at play practice with her boyfriend. He kept picking her up, all 95 pounds of her. It made me want to cry, because no guy can lift my fat ass, no one would want to.
Naturally skinny people bug the crap out of me (no offense). Especially the ones who say to me, "Oh my God, I HATE being so skinny. I wish I could just gain some weight. Like I feel so shitty being skinny."
I'm so messed up it's not even funny.

"Quod me nutrit, me destruit."

Started my liquid fast today. We went to Dunkin' Donuts before picking my doggies up from the kennel, and my food of choice? Liquid sin. I looked it up before that one small Strawberry Coolatta is actually 300 fucking calories. However, I refused the buttery croissant that my mom brought to the car, that sits downstairs taunting me, threatening to end my fast before it's begun. 
I'm working on my grocery shopping/lunch foods list, seeing as I won't be going, thanks to my evil dictator director calling a SUNDAY play practice. Um, what? Pass, kay thanks. So far I've got:
Tomato soup (the kind that comes in a cup! :])

The VitaminWater will be lunches, and the soup and broth will be dinners. Breakfasts will be either milk or coffee, though I put enough sugar into my coffee to send a diabetic to the funeral home. 
I'm excited now; the last time I fasted, really fasted, was a few years ago when I was shunned by my school. Everything will be better once I'm skinny.


I just looked it up, and the croissant that taunts me is an epic 310 calories, margarine not included. Um, pass. I have ten minutes until I have to leave for play practice, ten minutes to NOT eat. I need to refill a water bottle with cold water- cold water burns calories, or so I hear. It may be a myth, but I can't drink lukewarm water anyway. It's gross.
Okay. Novel of the day is over. I won't write any more today, I must be so annoying.


Okay, I said I wasn't going to write anymore, but I'm down a blessed 2 pounds 6 ounces! Thank you Lord! Thank you Ana! Thank you liquid fasting! How is this possible, after everything I ate last night? I'm not truly asking- I'm thankful for the blessing. I'm back to my pre-Thanksgiving weight. Hallelujah!

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Eat less, weigh less.

I'm starting a liquid fast today. I have to lose over eleven pounds in ten days to reach my next goal. Failing the first goal was not part of the plan. Fuck.


November 28, 2009

The Return Trip


            I’ll be lucky if I’m the same weight I was when I left. Scratch that; it’ll be miraculous if I am. I’m not going to get my hopes up and think that “Oh, I lost five pounds by stuffing myself with cookies and turkey!” I’m. Not. Stupid.

            Since I already threw my life away, I’m contemplating making it worse and getting a bunch of awful shit from McDonald’s on the way. I already had a handful of peanuts, cocoa, and water, and I’m feeling sick to my stomach. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I hate driving I get carsick.

            Just saw a really sad sight: A forest behind a cleared field with Bobcats and dump trucks and all that sort of stuff. Like damn. Why you gotta do that?

            I’m cold. That’s good. You burn more calories when you’re cold. Fuck, I don’t want to be back up to 176 or 180. Fuuuuckkk. Maybe only a hamburger at McD’s. I’m gonna play Spore to burn some time.


            I just had a pizza from Pizza Hut, which may or may not be fewer calories than what I would’ve gotten at McDonald’s (two double hamburgers, 9 piece chicken nuggets and a large sweet tea. Fatass.). Who knows.

            If I had internet right now I could check calorie counts. If I were home right now, I wouldn’t be forced to eat this shit by my parents. Ughh.

            I just want to be home so I can puke this shit up. But it’s too late now. Tomorrow and the rest of tonight are fasting, liquids only. Fuck it all. I want to be hoooommeee.

            So it’s funny, because my grandma is apparently giving my cousin T all this awesome jewelry. All I ever fucking get from that bitch are stupid books and poetry. It’s like, FUCK I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR PUBLISHED POEMS, AND I HONESTLY COULD CARE LESS. Like, one Christmas, my Aunt A gave my other cousin B this really pretty ring, it was pink and sparkly, and I think it came with matching earrings. Same aunt gives me fucking pictures frames. In reused boxes. Because she “didn’t know what I would like.” B and I are a year apart. When you’re ten and eleven, there isn’t much difference in what girls like.


            Two hours till we’re home. I’m typing with one hand, as I have a grande Caramel Macchiato in the other. I think I’ll watch Sex and the City again.


            Home. Pissed. Fat.

            On the shitty side, I only gained one pound over Thanksgiving break. On the shittier side, I can’t stop eating. Something in me just takes my hand and shoves it into the bowl of trail mix. Then takes it and shoves it in my mouth.

            All my friends hate me. C is being a fucking bitch for no reason. I did absolutely nothing to her. It’s what I wouldn’t do for her. If she wants to be in fucking stage crew she can get off her ass and ask the director when stage crew meets. It’s not my job to baby-sit her, right?

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Vacation Hell: Day 1

Days until next goal day: 13

Days until return home: 4

Days to ruin myself: 4


            I’m in the car right now. After stuffing shit in my mouth last night, I’m not fit to call Ana a friend. She’s like the “popular” girls to the wannabes: I’m always trying to be her, to listen to what she says and follow her, but I never get it perfect. I'm always three steps behind.

            Sex and the City is amazing thinspo. Sarah Jessica Parker is amazingly skinny, even when she’s old. In our group, I think N would be Samantha, T would be Miranda, and C would be Charlotte. And I would be Carrie. Not that any of us are rich and live in NYC. I would love to though, so if you know anyone who’s offering to make me rich and give me a penthouse in the City, I’m there in a heartbeat.

            My laptop is going to die soon. Fuck.


Thank God we're here. I can't wait to see The Princess and The Frog. It looks like such an amazing movie. And finally- a black Disney Princess! Racist of me? Maybe. But you know it's true. They're mostly white, with a few Indians or Native Americans thrown in there for PCness.

I want to go shopping. I want my daddy to buy me some Louboutins. Not that that would ever happen, seeing as the Parents complain every day about money. That's real nice. Na and NW broke up. It's amazing. She was so wrong for her.

Schadenfreude. :]

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

First Goal Day

Today was supposed to be my first goal day. Today was supposed to be the day that I would rejoice, and have a nice reward lunch tomorrow.
Today failed.
I blame myself and the weekend. I blame ice cream. I blame I blame IblameIblameIblame. I blame my lack of willpower.
Today was a moderately good day, until after school. I had lunch (celery, approximately two sticks because I hate celery). I had water (like three or four bottles). And then came the end of the school day. I was getting a ride with two of my friends, who decided to get pizza. When we walked in, I had no money. I told them that, and one of them offered to pay for me. I whipped out the "big lunch" excuse, which was a no go. She had seen that I hadn't actually eaten anything substantial for lunch.
I was so tempted to go buy a Snickers at lunch today. Instead, I refilled my water bottle and chugged it. I was so cold by the end.
The pizza was bad, and the next four days are going to be hard. I'm going out of town for Thanksgiving, and I'm going to be without a scale, under scrutiny from my cousins and family, in a house of skinny people, where all they do is eat. Fuck.

I'd like to take the time for a disclaimer here...despite the fact that probably  no one will read this.
I do not encourage eating disorders. Things that are said here may end up being triggering, so if you're in recovery, please close this window IMMEDIATELY. I know how hard it is living with this shit, and this is me venting and keeping with my goals. If you're going to scold me for having an ED, fuck off, you have no idea. No idea whatsoever.

Monday, November 23, 2009

An Introduction

I don't know why I'm doing this. I've read pro-Ana blogs in the past, and maybe it's time for me to start my own to stay on the fucking track. God knows I need help with that.
A little background to begin?
I was always an outgoing child. Always. The cute little blonde kid with bangs and curly hair, always had friends, always part of the "cool insertgradehere crowd". In the middle of second grade, my world was turned upside down when the daycare I'd been going to since I was born, practically, got shut down. At first I was cool with it. All my friends were going to this new daycare, and I would be too. We'd have fun.
When third grade rolled around, I'm not really sure what happened. But I do know who I wish I could blame for my eating struggles (right now there's no one to blame but myself). A wonderfully charming girl I'll call "L". L was as thin as a rail, naturally. And don't you just hate those naturally skinny girls? I know I do. My best friends are all that way and it kills me inside. Anyway, back to my story.
I was nine. I still had baby fat, partially from the cheese sticks I loved, partially from the fact that I was only a kid. And this girl took it upon herself to make fun of me constantly. I would come home crying day in and day out from the teasing that went on at that hellhole.
I remember one day, I was wearing a bra (this was in fourth grade). L, being a majorly skinny child, had no hope of developing as much as I would. Let me just tell you, my boobs are still growing, and I'm a junior in high school. She's still flat. She made fun of me that day for wearing a bra. I realize now that I should've made fun of her right back, for being underdeveloped, but at that point she had completely destroyed my self-esteem.
And how does this relate to today? Well, since then, I've been a compulsive over-eater. I ballooned at least ten pounds a year up until ninth grade. I've kept my weight pretty steady, but it's been going up this year, due to some similar torment from a senior boy.
It was when he started teasing me that I turned to Ana and Mia for support. Mia I turned on almost immediately. She makes me feel out of control and I extremely do not like that. Ana, on the other hand, helps me with great results, and no one has even begun to question my weird eating. Thankyoujesus.
I'm kind of rambling, but this is what I do. I do it in my written journal, in my typed journal, on here, in the words jumbling from my mouth consistently. I can never get things right or in order.
Counting calories has become easy for me. However, over weekends, when I'm at home and my mom brings home ice cream and sundae fixings, it gets tough. That's why I hope a blog will help me more than just personal writings. If I fail, it's here for the world to see, not just me.
I want to see some bones.