Saturday, February 28, 2009


I can only speak for myself, but I'd love to hear what you think, in a comment or a blog
I mean, on any pro-ana site, they make a disclaimer saying something like " This site is a place for support for those who already have an eating disorder, so if you're just looking for a diet, please leave." So in no way is there a definition that includes spreading these ideas. Pro-ana means...what exactly? In my opinion, I think it's kind of a personal rights thing. You can't get help until you're ready to.
There's a lot of ana-oppression in the real world.
You get to feeling like shit, because everyone hates you. For what? For being sick?
Why the hell should people hate you because you hate yourself?
It has to be a secret. It's a burden that we carry. If anyone found out? We'd be looked at differently. Not as individuals. As sick people. Somehow immoral people?
Treatment is a wonderful thing, but only if you can commit to it. Girls who lie their way through treatment end up further from recovery than they were before, don't they?

A pro-ana blog, or a pro-ana forum ( Safe Private Garden , Hungerland )is the only place a girl can really find kindness, understanding - comradery.
Plus we are the only people who realize that having an eating disorder doesn't always mean being on the verge of death. Nor does it mean skinny. Some of the most amazing girls I know of online are overweight, or average like myself.

Pro-ana to me essentially means "safe," as a label on a website. It's where we can go to be ourselves, talk about things that absolutely need to be brought out. Where we won't be judged for our unhealthy habits. Where we can feel a little less WRONG about everything. Even helpful, because we're connecting with people who need us as much as we need them.

Anyways... my twentieth birthday is Monday. I was hoping to have reached a goal by then, a nice round number. I'm not sure I have though. I might even have gained a little. That's what happens when I spend so much time with my boyfriend, I end up eating what he eats. His metabolism must be amazing.

My goal for this blog was to post every other day, but I've just barely missed that because I spend last night with my boyfriend, and just came home a couple hours ago.. Sorry. I gotta keep my ass in gear.

K. Stay strong girls. Your hearts are bigger than your stomachs.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Walking on Air

Kerli: Walking on Air

Does anyone else have a taste for crazy European pop music ? :-)
I love this girl! She's total thinspo.
And her song is, too.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Things I hate about my body

There is so much wrong with my body, and I'm going to start with the things that have nothing to do with how fat I am.

My skin. It's by far the worst problem. Scarred, acne, greasy, uneven. It's not as bad as it used to be, but when I break out, I break out like no one else does. Sometimes it's even painful. I'll have a dozen or more at a time. Fat red ones, on fair skin. It's hideous. It's disgusting.
Sometimes I feel like I'm wearing a mask, and that if I tried, I could just peel it off and look the way I did when I was ten. It's a nightmare.

My face. In general. My nose is too big, I get bags under my eyes, and my angles are all wrong. Don't get me wrong, there are things I like too. I'm fairly symmetrical, I have big green eyes - sometimes I like my lips, or at least I've never had a problem with them. But the angles. I look wrong in almost every light. I'm ugly. I don't photograph well, unless I'm whited out. Sometimes when I see pictures of myself I get lost in staring at them, trying to connect what I see with how I feel. It's kind of like that scene in "the eye."

How thick my legs are. They're chunky, they always have been. My jeans are bigger than my dress size, by like a lot. I'm not sure, but I don't think that's normal.

My breasts. This is a major one. They're down-right flappy. I realize this is a natural side-effect of losing weight, but I hate this. I'm afraid of on-top sex positions. I don't want to disgust my boyfriend, or myself.

It's like...I'm never going to be pretty. Never. I know that. I can't say as I accept it completely, but at the very least, at the VERY least...I want to be thinner than the pretty girls.

Areas to work on...

Love handles
arm flab
imperfect ass
thighs. omg. my thighs.
my hips

My self-esteem is very low today, but I exercised yesterday. It's been a long time since I've formally exercised. I was very proud of myself. Then I binged today on snack foods. That's okay... Today serves as motivation. Today I'm more motivated than I've been in a long time. I'll start doing my ab routine again (I may post it soon), and jogging in place for at least 20 minutes beforehand. Plus everything else I've been doing.

Tonight the plan is to drink a ton of water.

Okay. Here's some thinspo.

You can do it girls. So can I.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Link to a blog following NEDA week

"Our aim of NEDAwareness Week is to ultimately prevent eating disorders and body image issues while reducing the stigma surrounding eating disorders and improving access to treatment. Eating disorders are serious, life-threatening illnesses — not choices — and it’s important to recognize the pressures, attitudes and behaviors that shape the disorder."

NEDA week starts today - :-) Check this out

Saturday, February 21, 2009

beautiful things, twisted

Something's been stuck in my mind since a conversation with my boyfriend on the bus.
I made a face at him, and when he said "please stop," I teasingly accused him of saying I wasn't pretty. He then went on to say something along the lines of "the most disturbing things are just beautiful things, twisted." My mind went straight to blogging that. lol. I guess you girls can interpret that however you want, it's just so awesome I had to post it.

I guess that's true. It also transitions into a rant I've been wanting to have for a while now. Photoshopped thinspo.

I've seen them on actual thinspirational sites, and they're always the kind of pictures you see that come up in the news when someone decides it's a slow week and they want to prod the mentally ill on TV. The media always tries to dehumanize these girls and scare people. I mean, we all know anorexia is bad, but it's a mental illness, it doesn't make us circus freaks.

But I digress. Girls, you should never get your thinspo from

Know quality when you see it.

Until next time, ladies

Thursday, February 19, 2009

National Eating Disorders Awareness week

So apparently this upcoming week is National Eating Disorders Awareness Week. I've been seeing posters at my University, apparently there will be some sort of art gallery thing set up about loving your body. Seems really interesting, I might try to go.
I found this when I googled it. I'm tempted to argue, but I realize it's a good effort. I'm kind of a negative person. Really, I wouldn't want to discourage anyone at all from seeking help.
I guess I'll post in honor of this.

lol, I love demotivational posters.

I'll post again within the next couple days. Promise!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Calories per minute

Found this at looking for calories. This is nice. I much prefer being precise about how many calories I'm burning, though knowing calories per hour is still really useful too.

I never work out anymore.

I'm always busy, except when I'm glued to the computer screen. Pathetic, I know. I'm in terrible shape.

My resting heart rate is ninety bpm, if I'm lucky. My thighs rub together.

I sometimes daydream about my thighs not rubbing together. That's an amazing feeling. You feel so free... Less trapped by your own body. That's one of the first thing I look at when I look at thinspo. Though I suppose bone structure has a lot to do with that sort of thing.

anyways, I'm going to bed. To dream of impossibly perfect legs.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

My introduction

I'm 19 years old and I know how I want to die

Fragile, small. Lily white flesh stretched over a skeleton, as painful to look at as it was to exist in the final days.

Ana isn't beautiful. Not by societal standards. It's always acceptable to be thin as death but angular bones need to be softened in photoshop, sunken eyes corrected with make-up.

I crave, though, to look as sick on the outside as I feel on the inside. My body is my art, my mind is slowly breaking under the pressures that keep building around me. I think that's beautiful, and that's the only thing in my heart that's beautiful.

Insanity is like a friend, though. Somehow, it makes me feel superior to others. My sickness is a sign of intelligence. Every goal I reach is a trophy to my worth as a human being, and in the end, I want to be able to die, perfectly.

I want to be walking death. I want people to know I'm dying. Just one more experience, attention, to love and hate at the same time. The shame of being judged, but the sick sense of fame I'll get from knowing they're watching me die
and to be completely honest
I hate each and every one of them.

I can't talk to people. I can't relate to people. I don't like to touch them

I don't even want to tell you my weight. All you need to know is that I'm a failure. I'm average. I'm normal.

Mediocrity is worse than death.