Stoking the fire

Just when I was beginning to doubt whether I wanted to continue this journey again or not, my weekend was flooded with commentary from friends, which only served to spur me on…

- “Are you losing more weight?” What did she mean by ‘more’? Have people noticed and not said anything?
- “Are you still doing this juicing thing? Are you just gonna keep it up until you disappear?” Believe it or not, this friend knows nothing of my ED history.
- (After she’d had a steak sub dinner and I’d had 16 oz of juice, I was bellyaching about how full I was and she said her stomach was still grumbling…) “Look at us! You’re gonna be so skinny and I’m gonna be the fat one!” “gonna be skinny” means I’m not there yet, and “the fat one” means that I haven’t been considered the skinniest of all us heretofore. This is unacceptable and must change!

Starve on.

Truth: If it tastes good, it's trying to kill you.

Starve on.

Has it really been 18 months?

Hello to all my beautiful ladies (and a few of you gents ;))

I can't believe it's been/only been 18 months since I was last on this page. I can't believe I have another 1300 comments to filter through. Most of all, I can't believe this blog is still getting 200 hits a day. You peeps are absolutely amazing. Rock on wit yo thin selves.

So, I only got through about five comments when I noticed the overwhelming demand for an update, so here it is. I'm still "in recovery." The further and further I get from my last time "in" (4 years) the fewer and fewer people around me in my life know about it and bug me about it. The production company that sets the "lose weight" command in motion one month prior to shoots raved over my looks that time, and has shot me three more times since, making the same demand each time. Sometimes I've obeyed, sometimes not. Either way, they don't complain, so I take that as a good sign.

I've hired a new personal trainer a little over a month and a half ago. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer (I am learning with time), but he's gotten great results out of a few friends of mine. And since looks are more important than health in this business, that makes him the go-to guy. I told him in our Day 1 interview about my ED history, among other things, and he sort of glossed over it. To me, this can only mean one thing, and I shudder to admit it -- I probably don't LOOK like I've ever suffered from an eating disorder anymore.

Case in point, the first thing he did was to put me on a "juice feast" for the first 30 days. Go out and buy a Jack LaLanne power juicer and a buttload of fruits and veggies, and consume nothing but that for 30 straight days. As much as you want! But nothing solid, and nothing added (no protein powders, no honey, sugar, etc.). I was over-the-moon to get this sort of 'unlimited super-restriction'. I practically floated out of the gym that morning. Come to find out later, he didn't expect such an enthusiastic reaction to such a strict regimen, and took it as, "She's gotta be faking that kind of excitement. I'll never see her again." His face was equally shocked 27 days later when I weighed in almost 16 lbs lighter. He still can't believe I stuck to it so strictly. Clearly, he's never worked with a disordered eater before. The strictest of rituals are our most deliciously addictive.

In the 20 days since then, he's added solid food back into my daily diet - a salad with lean protein for lunch, and a small handful of raw, unsalted almonds for dinner, along with continuing to juice. I haven't been weighed again yet, and the dysmorphia lies to me about my reflection. So... we'll see.

In the meantime, the eating has REALLY gotten me depressed, and the not-knowing if I'm losing weight or gaining weight. In 7 weeks, not ONE person in my life has said those all-important words: "Have you lost weight?" Although to be fair, I am still wearing my winter clothes in this ridiculously long winter/spring weather. And while *I* can tell they're barely hanging onto my hips, I am still waiting for someone else to confirm it. I NEED to hear that question more than I need air.

And in the past day-and-a-half, out of complete boredom, I have launched back into a re-read of Marya's book, "Wasted," and watching really bad Lifetime movies about disordered eaters on youtube. So much schlock in those movies. Really, truly bad. I spend a bit of time laughing at the stupidity of their "experts" and a little bit more time screaming at the antagonists not to feed her! or treat her like an embicile! Ugh. I digress...

So that's the update. Yes, I'm alive. Probably don't look like I've ever had an ED. Must be fat. But clearly, all those feelings -- that beautiful, sweet voice called "Ana" -- is still there, a sleeping beauty just waiting to be roused... if I dare.

Now, I'm gonna go filter through some of these comments. I love you, my readers, my Ana's and Mia's and Ednos'. Truly. Thank you for standing by me for all these years. <3 Starve on. <3

I love this little guy. Sometimes, I imagine that this is what the voice of Ana would look like, personified. :)


Take care, my beauties. Do whatever you have to do to feel well. :)

Thanks for the love, my friends. Your courage, honesty, and encouragement are inspiration to my life.

I've only read thru maybe the first 100 or so comments from the 1300 that have to be reviewed and either posted or deleted. As a reminder, I don't publish any links, and I don't publish any hate, so don't waste your time. But one hate comment caught my attention. It's nothing new, just another someone spouting about "why would you do this to yourself?" and "get a life." To this person (and all who think like you) I would like to encourage you to continue reading my blog, or better yet, reading it from the beginning. This is not the "life" of someone who really "wants to be this way." This is the result of endless pressure from media images, from work, and most acutely, from a deep-rooted mental imbalance which does not allow me to love and accept myself the way I should. For every image I get of someone saying, "You are perfect just the way you are!" there are at least 100 images saying, "You are not good enough, thin enough, pretty enough, and you'll never achieve success in your present state of being." Please understand, dear reader, that eating disorders are not always the "choice" of the affected person. Try to show some love and understanding. Keep reading.

Case in point, I've recently been contacted by a production company for whom I have worked many times before, but not long enough that they know about my long, tumultuous history of disordered eating. Their exact words to my agent were, "We want to shoot her in a month, so tell her to go ahead and start losing weight now." No inquiries about what I currently weigh or look like, even though they haven't seen me in almost a year. Just the straight-up assumption that no matter what I am, I AM NOT THIN ENOUGH, and something must be done about that.

Luckily, my agent is slightly more understanding and gentle about it. But sure enough, it has been quite the trigger. I've immediately (and without much thought) begun to severely restrict, and dropped five pounds in as many days. Ugh. And in my mind, the familiar battle begins to rage again... I've been "in recovery" for nearly three years now, I think. But what is "recovery" really? Just a state of limbo where I am not fully immersed in my eating disorder, but still not completely normal either? Am I just beyond the threshold, poised to step over it the moment an opportunity is offered? Am I not truly *anorexic* until I am under the *safe weight* zone??

And what am I supposed to do now? Since they demanded that I should lose weight without having seen what I currently look like, I'm not entirely sure what they are expecting to see when I do arrive. If I stay here in my "safe zone" and continue the therapeutic "I am alright as I am" mantra, will they be angry that I am not what they have expected, and will I lose my job? Or do I dive headlong into the system I know so well, give them the results they could not possibly be disappointed with, and potentially get lost again in that cesspool of darkness that is my world of disordered eating?

Why is there no in-between? What is normal? Why can't I just feel and be that way?

Showbiz is the world's best corset. It just keeps squeezing you until you can't breathe anymore.

Thinspo is my porn.