http://pleasefindthis.blogspot.com

"Small people only want one thing from you:

Someone else to be as small as they are.

Stay big."

http://pleasefindthis.blogspot.com

"You should eat to fill your stomach, not your soul. And drink to
numb your thirst, not your pain."

My Dear Ana

I wrote this for a creative writing midterm, but it is so much more than that. Hopefully, you can find yourself with the same questions and realize that you are not alone.

Dear Ana,

It’s your fault that I’m broken inside. You inhibit my growth and take away the one thing I was granted — my womanhood. Your determination lacks soul and is riddled with selfish passion. Your urges bleed into me infecting my very core and disrupts the balance of my limp body. My heart palpitates in an anxious fashion and struggles to fight and survive. Blood rushes through my livid veins, but not quite quick enough thus, leaving my outer skin freezing and yearning for warmth and attention. Fingertips raise a static blue while the rest of my hands warm to a cool shiver. My lips only taste air, and water. My hair is thick, but only because of the girth of the strands. They’re coarse and lie in a thin audience of malnutrition and a lack of strength. Barricades of bones buried under my thin, dry skin jut out violently reaching out for some desperate need of meat to attach to. My arms are but a collection of flimsy scars and transparent skin. My ribs caress me trapping the little warmth that I am unable to hold. My spine attempts to run away; the vertebrae slugging away like the curvaceous humps of a caterpillar. I can imagine you smiling in sheer satisfaction and I guess the sad fact is that it matches my smile too — the smile where naivety and uncertainty lives accompanied by soulless eyes and a sold soul.

I know you look out for me and that you live to help me embrace myself. It is a wonder how you understand me at all. My family never did and they’re supposed to be the closest to me. How did you know how I felt every time they told me I was fat? Remember the years I was burdened with unnecessary worries that my obesity was too much? And do you remember how I was not any bigger than any of the children my age? And how about when my weight was the topic of discussion at every single family reunion? I feel indebted to you because it is you who ceased those remarks. Now, when I stare at myself in the mirror, I am but the emptiness I feel inside; the pathetic, withering restless artefact that I call my body. Do I love myself or is it hate? Does the mirror deceive or believe? Do my eyes deceive or believe?

You’re so calm, yet so hostile. You lie back awaiting for my own self combustion as you passively encourage me to go forth. I can hear your silent voice nestling itself within the confines of my simple, tunnel-vision mind and spreading the disease of guilt like wildfire. Your violent force has torn me down and your remnants linger within the pits of my being. You infest my thought with yours butchering all rationale I had once possessed and cherished. My mind is now dead and corroded with your intentions. You used my vulnerability against me and posed me as a puppet of your own desire. My spirit was no match against you and in fact, sold my soul to you. My journey with you has been for naught. Well, that’s what the hospital told me.

I am no longer allowed to see you says Dr. Nassir, but I do every time I look in the mirror. I do every time I lie awake in my bed feeling the defined structures of your result. The ribs are the most prominent. I can still feel the four brackets per side, each involved in protecting me, not just the lungs that push against it in the most breathtaking of ways. The hollow dip of where my stomach should lie is sucked in and hardly connects my ribs to my hipbones. My hands perfectly cup my hipbones and through this embrace comes the warm satisfaction I feel inside; the satisfaction that you have devised to bring to me through the pain that is caused. Dr. Nassir says I can’t dwell with you anymore. I don’t know who to follow.

We had a great relationship. You boosted me in ways I so desperately needed, but Dr. Nassir said it wasn’t the right way. You are not my friend, but my enemy. You are not my saviour, but my destroyer. You did not help, but made me worse instead. You are the devil and I do not know how I continued to revel in your debauchery. You’ll never meet your demise because you thrive on the pain of others in the way that you convince that they’re happy when in pain. You bring them the vicious cycle. You are death yourself and this is why you cannot die. You are pain, not happiness. It made so much sense to follow you before Ana, but now, I truly understand. You’re merely the devil, the deceiver and I believed everything. I was your victim and I’ll always be within your grasp. Now, I understand your way of life. Riddle me this though: is it your fault, or is nature just a bitch?

With Love,

Heathyr

The Widow's Peak

I'll put on the actual version some day. Life has been a bitch and I have been AFK for so long.

Food and Sex

I am not one to mix the pleasure of food and the acts of sex together even though they, neurologically, affect a person the same. Serotonin is the one linking factor between the two pleasures. So, what if you took away part of the equation... like food? Would those with eating disorders also have a sexual disorder?

I started becoming overly-obsessed with my weight when I hit grade 10 (15 years old). At 16, I stopped getting my period. At 17, I didn't, or rather couldn't, feel aroused. It gradually happened just like Ana. I'm not sure if it was because I wasn't eating and therefore stopping a natural process or perhaps the food that I was not taking in was the fuel I needed to run my body. Whatever it was, it got me thinking... do they run hand in hand? As frivolous of an issue as this may seem, I constantly wonder about it. A period of time with no sex drive had long-term repercussions that did not occur to me at the age of 17.

I am just only starting to get a sense of a sex drive. I guess it would be much like a child learning what those "tingly feelings" were. In this sense, I am a child. I don't know how to manage myself or the ramifications of boundaries. I don't know how to keep a secret, or what should be kept secret. Everyone knows that I do not engage in sexual activity because I don't want to. There is no Godly reasoning. In a way, people have judged me much harsher. Sex, to me, is no longer pleasurable much like consuming food. I remember my aunt saying that I look like I'm being forced to eat when it comes to mealtime and in all honesty, I am.

I wonder, will I ever enjoy eating food? Will I ever enjoy sex again? Are they linked? I hope not. I would love to feel the confines of love without the limitless boundaries of eating.

Attraction or obsession?

I met my friend the other day. The peculiar thing with this friend is that his body is incredibly beautiful. When I touched him, I felt his bones and when I stopped touching him, I felt a longing to touch him again. Actually, the only peculiar thing with this whole situation is that I hardly find anyone attractive. For a total of two years, I lost my sex drive. The first year was due to anorexia. No sex drive, no period. The second time (year) around was due to unforeseen traumatic circumstances. Not only was this an incredibly terrifying experience, but it could have been generally avoided.

Back to the boy: bones jutting, defined hip bones, thin leg and arm structure... absolutely beautiful. The whole night, I "made fun" of his body only to part myself from the incredible attraction I had to him. I refused to let myself see his collar bones or I would have gone crazy. You see... the collar bones are the most attractive feature on a person. Since then (5 days ago), I haven't been able to alleviate him from my mind.

Could this have been an attraction evolved into an obsession? Or an obsession with anorexia/thinness to begin with? It seems although I am not physically anorexic, I am mentally, so I guess the bigger question is:

will I ever stop being mentally anorexic?

Not myself

Yesterday, I was at a friend's house and I did something out of the ordinary, for me. I was trying on a dress, but I had nowhere to go seeing as the floors were being done. Usually, I would wait for the floors to dry because it is logical. Instead of doing so, I decided to randomly change on the spot in front of my friend, who is beautiful, and possible being walked in on. After that, it occurred to me what I had just done. I didn't understand it.

I have a tremendous need to be freed. I want to forget that weight controls my every waking thought. I want to not check my ribs in the morning, or my hipbones in the middle of the night. I don't want to cry everytime I enter a clothing store, or try on something that I think will be too small only to find it is much too large for me. I want to wear clothes normally and have fun shopping and not make it a chore.

I just want to be free. Why can't I just be free from all this?

Live it up - eat something?

Every time I forget to eat, I worry about the weight I will gain as a consequence. Let me explain. If I miss my hunger point, then I will have to eat so that my body does not recede into starvation mode. I am, in fact, so afraid that I end up eating too much when eating in the first place makes me worry.

Yesterday, I wanted to eat something because I hadn't eaten anything yet. I was too busy working my 12 hour shifts. The only thing available was a package of noodles. At 20% of the recommended daily intake of fat, it really turned me off. Then it hit me: this is what my life has become. I have fallen victim to food. Here I am, caught in a dilemma of eating or not eating all for the sake of weight gain/loss. Is it pathetic? Is it sad?

Is it depressed that eating something means "live it up"? Tell me. Is it?

Fine. Show me your lack of respect.

Here is a scenario: You're walking down the hallway. You feel all eyes stuck on you like velcro. They snicker at your muffin tops and make faces at your disgusting theighs. Your arms are the talk of the century and your face... bloated like a frog. Every chuckle and every laugh you hear makes you want to off yourself and you tell yourself that this is what you want and because it is happening, this is what you deserve. Truth is, this is just a narcisstic way of dealing with yourself and your low self-esteem.

The very truth is: You're walking down the hall. All the eyes you think that are on you are merely everyday interactions amongst your peers. For the longest time, I didn't see it that way. I had become to indoctrinated with myself, I forgot other people had a life outside of my head. The only person that was tearing me down was myself.

I took away what I needed the most: respect. That is what kills me now. How could I have stripped myself from that? How did I become this kind of person?

Was starving myself a cry for attention or a sincere attempt to stop the stares and snickers? Well, the stares and snickers were probably for something else. I needed the attention and I still do. I'm not going to lie... annorexia feels good, but not in the way you'd think... just in the way you know. If you have ever been, you know what I mean.

I have yet to find something else - anything else- that can get me what I want and most of all, what I need.

Intro to Ana

You know that feeling you get when people around you are eating and you feel like crying? You want to cry and you want to grab a hold of the plate of food and just chuck it at someone. You want the people around you to eat and eat and eat so that you seem smaller... you know that feeling?

Probably not.

But isn't it more of a feeling of determination... a goal that you want to reach? You want to be thin so bad that it doesn't matter about the others whether they are fat or skinny. YOU want to achieve that thin look. YOU want your bones to feel.... your skin to barely hang on. You want your clothes to fall off. You want people to insult you and to call you stick thin and how they wouldn't "tap that". You want it and the determination is so bad that you're blind. You can't see any other way because Ana doesn't give you any other choice. So, why do you want this?

I can't answer this for you because you probably don't want it. It has everything to do with victimization, vindication and responsibility. Everything.