Help spread the joy of christmas

Taking a break from ED related news (Because, honestly, I'm feeling VERY recovered. I've had my ups and downs, but I feel this will be an 'up' for a loooong time.) To ask you for a favor. I'm trying to raise money so the foster kids in my city will get gifts under the tree this year.

here's the link!

http://www.indiegogo.com/Paper-Angels?a=238583&i=wdgi

story time!

something that happened to me at the hospital, but I wrote it through the director's, Monica's, point of view.

And yes, I did "hear voices" and "see things". But I was in no hurry to get them taken away from me.


 

The doctor was explaining her blood results, but she wasn’t making eye contact, again. She sat folded up in her seat, looking quite intently at…nothing. The doctor stopped talking and she furrowed her brows. Ah, maybe she had been listening after all. We haven’t lost her yet.

“Kristina!” She looked at me, but her eyes kept shifting back to the empty space.

“I’m sorry. What?” She looked confused, and like she was trying to hear someone over loud party music.

“What do you hear right now?” I asked slowly.

She tensed. She denied animatedly about hearing voices or seeing people, but the evidence was there. She glanced back at the empty space once again, and stood up as if she had made a decision. “I only hear you, of course. Look. If there’s something wrong with my blood, give me a pill.” Her face was blank and her voice flat as she said this, and the doctor took notes. Suddenly she tensed and closed her eyes tight as if she were scared of something. She returned to her previous state in a second, though she was grinding her teeth now and her fists were clenched.

“Kristina…what do you hear?” I said, at the same time the doctor said “You don’t need pills, you need food.”

She glanced quickly at the two of us, then suddenly covered her ears and shut her eyes as her breathing became more labored. I stood and stepped toward her as she turned and ran out of the room, kicking and shaking the locked hospital door in the hallway. I reached her in a matter of seconds, as it was right outside the office. She turned again, her thin frame shaking violently as she ran quickly and gracefully out of mine and the other doctors’ reaches down to the other end of the hallway, where there was another locked door.

I held up a hand to the other doctors and walked calmly down the length of the hallway. Kristina spent a minute or so shaking and abusing the door with her hundred pound body as well as she could, then shot back as if she had been attacked. Her hands were over her ears again, before she collapsed down onto her knees and covered her mouth, with her other hand gripping her left arm. It first looked like she was grieving, but I quickly realized she was holding back a scream. She was in pain.

I ran to her as she bent over, tears finally falling down her emotionless face. I slid onto my knees in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. “What hurts?” We wanted her to show emotion, yes, but not physical pain. Even when she was in pain—for we had stuck her with so many needles and she had broken a bone or two because of her early onset osteoporosis—she never showed it. Something was horribly wrong.

“Now is not the time for the silent treatment, Kristina. What hurts?” She uncovered her mouth and gave out a high pitched cry, before opening her eyes wide and gasping. I looked down and saw her clutch her chest. She started falling over to her side, but I caught her and held her steady.

“She’s having a heart attack! Get the ER down here Now!” I took her pulse as her face calmed a little.

“Monica,” She choked out, “I won’t die yet. I’m not thin enough to die.”

I was about to disagree with her when she passed out, and her hand went limp as the ER team came running into the psych ward with their stretcher, for the fifth time that week.

I. Am back.

And I'm confused. I was doing well. Then I stopped taking my meds and I moved out and started drinking and starving and smoking weed of all things, and prostituting again.

So....I'm back to where I was.

I got out of the hospital simply because I'm a good actress. This time. But I find it a lot easier to say that this....disorder....this particular eating disorder, is a lifestyle. I find it much easier to say than I can't stop.

I can't stop this....curse. The starving, the crying at night, the insomnia and purging...I can't stop.


In other words, why is "pro-ana" such a secret society? It's time we came out into the light. I mean, jesus, we're not vampires. I know how to do it. I will be the first person off the bus, the one who takes the bullet.


I'm writing a book. Not this bullshit recovery book that I only had fun writing when I was writing about my disorder. No. I'm going to write, essentially, the pro ana bible.

Quotes. workout routines. diets. book lists. music lists. debates in favor of pro ana. prayers. letters. thinspiration. Interviews. Conversations. Tweets. movies. straight up rants. The whole. deal. oh, and there WILL be numbers. And there WILL be hell to pay, that I will catch.


Because I am not ill. I'm in control. It's extremely easy to starve, to not eat a single calorie for 12 days. To swallow your pride and cry until daddy lets you squeeze that thirteenth day in because he's been out of town and thinks this is a one time thing.


comments? questions? thoughts? .....concerns?

happy anniversary?

So. May first is coming up. Know what that is?

It's my one year recovery anniversary. Yay?

I have mixed feelings about all this. I mean...The first year is the hardest, right? Please let it be so. I've been through hell just to get this far.

My thoughts on my first year:

1st month: Recovery sucks. What am I doing?
2nd month: Relapse. But then recovery again.
3rd month: Eh. Recovery kinda sucks, but I'll deal.
4th month: yay, I'm getting good at this!
5th month: Oh, never mind. relapse.
6th month: I'll never purge again!
7th month: I'll never starve again!
8th month: uh...never mind. Just this once.
9th month: Still gotta work on binge eating.
10th month: Holy c*** how can people live with eating disorders!?
11th month: I want to save the world!
12th month: Wow. A year already?

Hi! (again)

Alright. I know I haven't been on much, but I've been busy. Sue me.

I return to post a happy post for dylphe. If you haven't read her blog, you TOTALLY should. She's an awesome person.

Good posts start with good news: I am totally recovered! I say that, because I haven't relapsed in like 4-6 months. I went without weighing myself for two months, then when I did, I didn't freak out or anything. Are you ready? I weigh 165 pounds. And I'm HAPPY. A year ago, I would have deemed this an impossible scenario. So if you're scared of recovery, or rather, of becoming "fat", know this: After your body recovers from your eating disorder, you will feel uncomfortable and will probably relapse a couple times. This is okay. Learn from your relapses. And the better part: After your MIND recovers from your eating disorder, your perception of "fat" and "thin" Will change. You will learn to love your body and thus, your life.

If you have any questions about recovery, leave a comment. Or email me at curlytop36@hotmail.com. Be sure to put something like "recovery" in your subject, so it doesn't go to the spam folder.


And happy! What's happier than adorable bunnies? NOTHING. photos courtesy of dailybunny.org

I need your help!

So. You all know about my book. Maybe you do, anyway. Here's what I need. I need questions about recovery. I promise I won't shove recovery down your throat with my answer (at least, I'll try not to) Nor will I criticize or judge you for your condition or question.

This is the letter I've sent to my friends:

You don't have to have an eating disorder to have questions about anorexia, body dysmorphia disorder, bulimia, Binge eating disorder, or recovery from any of the aforementioned.

So Please Ask Me ANY Question you have.

If I have a decent answer, I'll put it in my book.

Sample questions that I've gotten from others:

1. What is Body Dysmorphic disorder?
2. What if you don't have  an eating disorder, but you have the thoughts (i.e anxiety about what you eat) but you don't act on them?
3. What if I stop purging, but don't stop binging?

Sample questions that I will NOT answer:

1. What's a good diet for me, cause I want to lose a whole bunch of weight really fast?
2. Can you give me tips on how to be anorexic?

Questions like these not only give me ulcers, but will be answered with a very angry and strong worded letter.


That said, I know I'm kinda vague on what to ask/not ask. So ask anything. I won't get mad at you, I promise. Just PLEASE ask me a question. ANYTHING helps. Oh, and let me know how you want me to cite you (anonymous, username, real name, etc)

oh my god.

my heart is broken.

You know you're recovered when your heart breaks while reading pro-ana-ish blog posts. Not even the posts. Just the titles. I read the TITLES of blogs of girls who happen to have anorexia/bulimia. And I immediately wanted to start bawling.

need to kill time?

I was reading the lovely Dylphe's blog and found not only horrendous pictures of really fat black women (ouch. politically incorrect, anyone?) but some amusing pictures and HOT chicas.

http://www.looneypalace.com/night-clubs-for-overweight-people-in-california/   <-----overweight dance clubs
disney for adults: http://www.dumage.com/disney-for-adults/?utm_source=avalanchers.com&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=avalanchers

cyborg tattoos: the next best thing to bones:  http://www.dumage.com/cyborg-tattoos/?utm_source=avalanchers.com&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=avalanchers

beautiful girls and photo manipulation: http://www.dumage.com/beautiful-girls-in-photo-manipulations/?utm_source=avalanchers.com&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=avalanchers

young angelina jolie: http://www.expirationchug.com/young-angelina-jolie/



real skinny model: http://www.thefashionspot.com/celebrity-fashion/news/107592-frida-gustavsson-get-her-nyfw-look

twisted disney princesses: http://www.gunaxin.com/twisted-disney-princesses/16011

flexible girls: http://www.dogguie.com/chicas-de-goma/

naughtiest advertisements ever: http://dailyartcocktail.com/collection-of-naughtiest-advertisements-ever/2/#45

banned beauties--look at those ribs!!! : http://englishrussia.com/index.php/2010/09/04/banned-beauties/

thinspo and fake reverse thinspo all in one: http://www.dumage.com/beware-of-photoshop/

children's beauty pageant--some of these are amazing!: http://funzu.com/index.php/crazy-pics/beauty-children-pageants-make-children-look-ugly-05102010.html#564

russian graduation pictures: http://do-while.com/russia-vs-us-who-have-better-graduates-photos/2/

disney princess look alikes: http://www.smashinglists.com/10-hottest-disney-princesses-look-alike-models/

hey, everyone.

sorry for the absence. I'm doing JaNoWriMo this year, so I'm really busy writing.

I only really came back because Dylphe said she misses me.

I miss you guys too! And I'm working on a book on recovering from your eating disorder. Here's the first chapter:

About This Book

I started this book partly in the hopes that I would convince myself to fight through the recovery process. I also wrote it for all those girls and boys with eating disorders, along with their concerned friends, parents, teachers, what have you.

I will advise you, if you are suffering from an eating disorder and not sure about recovery, to completely skip the next chapter, which is my story. You’re not missing much, but it is there for the purpose of allowing everyone to see that I’ve been there. I’ve been through the sleepless nights and frightful days. I’ve spent way too much time worrying about whether or not my heart was going to give out, and even more time over how many calories were in a cigarette.

I’ve been to that Eternal Cold, where every staircase was a mountain and I couldn’t look down or else I’d faint again. I had battled with the doctors over and over about whether or not I was dying. But the doctors always won. I was, indeed, dying. I had been sucked into this awful, horrid disease thinking that I wouldn’t lose control; I could only gain it. But I’ll tell you one fact that took me six years to realize.

There is NO control in Anorexia or Bulimia.

There is no happiness at a low number on the scale. No number will ever be good enough. To me, the scale always read “FAT.5”. I was always, always too much and never enough. I was making myself disappear and screaming to be heard and seen.

Yes. To other people, I was thin. But I was not strong. Yes. To other people I was extremely intelligent. But I was not smart. To others I was stubborn and beautiful and precise and a leader. But I was also a lost young woman trapped in a child’s body. I was out of control. I was sick. My beauty showed when I smiled, although smiles were rare and my mouth was deteriorating. And I was not happy.

I was not everything I thought I could be. I was the complete opposite. I was trapped behind a foggy glass wall, where only few could see my true pain and none could help me heal it. I was screaming for girls on “Pro-Ana” websites to turn around and never look back. Because they were looking for a place that I could never escape.

And it all started with one small, harmless, out-of-the-way word.

DIET.

“Diet” used to be a harmless word, anyway. It used to mean what you eat every day. For example: Fred’s diet includes many meats and few vegetables. Anne’s diet is strictly vegetarian. It did not mean “things you don’t eat in order to lose weight.” Diets, in this context, DON’T WORK. You’ll learn why in a later chapter.