Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Monday, July 4, 2011


I don't want to start another one of those threads on PrettyThin for fear of fanning the fire - you know, another thread decrying the dream while adding yet even more?

However, this most recent drama, starting with the sudden layout to the website, and most recently the threads between James and a few members on the website have made me a little bit angry, and really just a bit sat.

I am going to start this entry by playing devil's advocate.  Granted, I have been on PrettyThin for just shy of a year.  While my post count has just hit 100, I am on every day, reading thread after thread, and keeping current on what most active members have to say.  I feel like I know pretty much everyone, though most people don't know me.

That being said, I feel for James.  James is not paid to run the site.  James really has no personal stake in the site, given that he does not have an eating disorder, and the most exposure he has to eating disorders he has gained from his friend, from whom he inherited the site, and from running the site itself.  Essentially, as I see it, he keeps the site running for us, because, for whatever reason, he wants us to have a place to congregate and continue to have a place where we may discuss our issues and find like-minded people.  While he may never fully understand us (and really, do we want him to understand us fully?  That would mean a descent into the mind-bending world of eating disorders and would we wish that on anyone?), he tries his best to support us.

My point is this: imagine being attacked constantly for something that you do not truly have a personal stake in, attacked constantly for something that you are truly doing for others.  Imagine doing something not for profit, but for the benefit of others, and receiving very, very little praise for it.  You may not necessarily do it for the praise, but you certainly don't do it for the constant attacks either.

Have you imagined?  It must hurt very deeply for him.  So I can imagine that, after all of the constant attacks, that his patience wears very thin.  It seems to me that no matter what he does he is attacked.  Yes, he has done and said some very bone-headed things.  Who hasn't?  I certainly have.  But I am not under constant scrutiny either.

All of those words to say I can see how he could have so easily have gotten sucked into today's drama.  I don't think he should have been chastised or attacked so badly for it.  Nor do I think he should have risen to the bait.

Ultimately, I simply wish that people could learn how to express their opinions politely and not state them with the intent to inflame.  I don't think that it is particularly difficult to identify language that would be offensive or that could possibly be taken badly.  After all, one could always defer to the old shibboleth "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Today I'm going to the waterfront with my boyfriend for a picnic.  For him I've packed a turkey sandwich, a ham sandwich and some cookies.  He is a healthy boy with a healthy appetite, and also only eats one meal a day if he is lucky.  There is no food in his house and I endeavor to feed him whenever I see him.

For me, I've packed a sandwich with home-roasted veggies, two apples, and some cherries.  I will eat them.  I have to eat them.  I will not purge them.

Everything I've eaten for the last...three months perhaps?  The last two, certainly, I have purged.  Okay, perhaps a slight exaggeration.  There are times, perhaps every other day, that I mange to convince myself not to throw up some frozen yogurt here, or some vegetarian sausage there, or perhaps an apple that I ate when I was in a place where I couldn't purge.

But the truth of the matter is that my digestive system is so ruined at that this point that I could eat these things, find a toilet three hours later and purge them back up without a problem.  My stomach doesn't work anymore.

I've lost seven pounds in the last three weeks.  Five of them have been in the last two.  When you weigh less than 100 pounds, this is significant.  Do not do this to yourself.  It is slow suicide.

I haven't had a bowel movement in two weeks, simply because there is no food in my system.  That is why I have to eat today.  I want something to move in my system.  I am hoping that being at the waterfront and having to walk a good ways to get to the bathroom will help.  I just hope the crushing guilt of having eaten an actual meal will not send me into a panic attack.  There is the small comfort of knowing that all of it is whole foods, home cooked, vegetarian, and not swimming in hydrogenated fats, oils, and processed sugars.

Wish me luck.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Fasting today.  I can't stand to throw up anymore blood for the time being.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Purge-free day yesterday.  First purge-free day in...who knows how long. What does it get me?  Was 108 on Friday and 114 yesterday.

How is that even physically possible?  I threw up every single thing I ate over the weekend, and honestly only had one or two binges over the weekend.  Otherwise I stayed under 600 calories.  Yesterday all I had was some vegetarian sushi, two slices of toast, and a half a cup of froyo.

I don't expect anyone to answer that question.  No one cares, either here or IRL.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Right.  So since my last post, I've lost five pounds which implies that the three pounds I gained was water weight.  Wonderful.  But I really feel like the weight I lost wasn't deserved since I didn't stick to the plan that I posted about.  I didn't stop purging for the most part, I just purged less.  Maybe four times a day instead of ten, and I've pretty much been throwing up everything I've been eating except for Well, except for my epic fail on Tuesday.  Yikes.  Let me tell you about that one, shall I?

I went to my hair dresser to get my hair straightened and dyed, which I love.  But my hair dresser is vietnamese and knows that I love Asian food of any kind since my study abroad in Shanghai some time ago.  She made me vegetable fried rice and it was absolutely delicious.  She's on the Q-needs-to-gain weight bandwagon so she's always bringing food in to me.  Granted, home-made fried rice fried with just a tablespoon of olive oil is not going to be nearly as bad as kind you get in Chinese food restaurants, but when you eat four cups of it...not good.  I threw it all back up and felt horrible that I was throwing up something someone had made specifically for me.  In fact, the only thing I didn't throw up that day was a plain bagel with a bit of jelly on it.

So I left the hair dresser and went home which is where I do all of my worst bingeing.  And, true to form, I did.  I had about two cups of mashed potatoes, and indeterminate amount of caramels and tootsie rolls, two servings of seven layer dip, about 30 whole wheat crackers, three cinnamon rolls * , two Samoa bars that I had baked for my mom, a brownie, two more cups of rice that I made in the rice cooker, the rest of a bag of potato chips, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (made with PB2, sugar-free jelly, and low calorie bread of course, we must stay healthy).  This all took place over the span of about three hours and went down the toilet in four separate shifts.  My stomach felt so rotten after it all that I went to bed early, partly because I felt ill and partly because I just wanted to get away from the kitchen and away from food.  I was so glad to get away from the house the next day and go to work because it was absolutely disgusting what I had done.  The only way i got to sleep that night was by taking a sleeping pill and by telling myself that the tally of my day only maybe added up to about 2500 calories and that, combined with my restricting from the rest of the week, could not possibly result in weight gain.  Now I'm hiding out at my boyfriend's house because I'm utterly embarrassed to eat like that around him and it's much, much easier to restrict down here.  I feel much better now.

* Those fucking cinnamon rolls.  I have asked my mom, begged my mom, and told my mom not to make them and she still does.  Every person in my house is morbidly obese (I am talking a BMI of at least 35 and up to 42) and no one needs to eat those bloody cinnamon rolls.  But she insists on making them because she cannot handle that I am the baker in the house.  People keep telling me that I need to open my own baking business an she can't handle the fact that I do something better than her.  She knows I have no willpower when it comes to cinnamon rolls because, while I can resist eating my own baking, I can't not eat something that someone else has baked.  So she keeps making those stupid things because she has to assert some stupid fucking power over me.  She makes them even though we still have some in the house.  She makes them when she knows that I'm coming home, and then tells me that I could still stand to lose weight even though people can count my ribs and everyone else tels me that I am too thin.  She makes them because she wants me to be fat like her and she hates me for constantly being the thinnest one in the house, even when I myself was overweight.  I fucking hate her for it and I hate her for it.

They're not even particularly good.  They're not handmade (made in a bread machine), they're doughy and they taste like something you can get in the store.  But they're very sweet and I have a horrible sweet tooth.  They're something I can easily throw in the microwave and eat three of.  These and cereal are something I can go fucking binge-crazy on when I go into my trance.  Anything else I can snap myself out of after having maybe one serving of, but not bloody cinnamon rolls and not bloody cereal.  Any other parent, one would think, would be supportive of their child if they were to tell their parent that they were trying to be healthy (hah, healthy) and watch what they eat and not bring unhealthy things in to the house.  I've done the same thing with her during her lame attempts at trying to be healthy.  Whenever I've baked, I take my baking out of the house and not left anything in the house to tempt her into eating things that would cause her to gain weight.  This has resulted in her yelling at me and saying that I don't care about my family.  Twisted, right?

Sigh, sorry about the impromptu rant.  This is something that has been upsetting me for a while.  I've been avoiding my house more and more.  I need to get my own pace, but being a full-time student and only being able to work 35 hours a week at an hourly wage is simply not conducive to living on my own.

109.  Hooray.  Nine more pounds to go until my next GW.