accidental intervention

Well if I'm completely honest with myself and all of you right now, I'd have to say that when I set of to go into work today, I had every intention of killing myself. I was going to go in and just sit there for a bit, collecting my thoughts, and then go down to the railway and wait for a train. I was dressed all in black, even my horrific black leggings that show off my HUGE thighs perfectly.

I don't really know what came over, I just had enough of everything and faced with the prospect of seeing my parents when they arrived home from work, I just decided fuck it all. So I left before they arrived home and told my grandparents I was going to work.

Then I arrive at work and set myself up in my little room, I get myself some tea and I see immediately that the professor is in his office. I avoid him. I don't want to see him (but I did want to, so badly). I'm sitting in my room, listening carefully. I hear him leave his office and I decide, I have to just say hi. So I walk out of my room and I see him, waiting for the lift.

[As I am writing this post, I find myself crying. I don't know why I should cry. There is so much emotion tied up in this. So much emotion in every encounter I have with the professor. So much fear, and hope and love.]

And he was surprised to see me, gave me a hug and a kiss and we had a little chat. Nothing out of the ordinary. He told me that I looked too thin, and that it is so easy for young women to become anorexic, especially if there is stress. He said that right now, I don't look anorexic but my waist was starting to look very small. (And this is the repeating tale of how I feel super thin because he says so, only then I look in the mirror to find I'm still fat.)

He asks me how long I will be around this time, and says that it is good to have me back. And now comes the accidental intervention. He asks me about my love life. I, of course, balk insanely at this and end up as a blushing mess. And he says to me, "you're the only family I've got...so I have to ask."

This little comment, coupled with others he's made in the past, just makes me wonder. When we went to lunch, he said that the staff there must think his daughters are getting more Asian and that they'll have to say that they bought me in Asia. He always offers me a ride and says he's just being a concerned parent. He ran through the rain to his car to pick me up so that I wouldn't get wet. He says he gets worried about me when I don't look chirpy. And now this.

In a way, it makes me feel sad for him. But in another way, it makes me incredibly happy. His lack of children and my desire for a functional father makes a potent combination. On some level I am reluctant to accept the possibility that he might feel some sort of fatherly affection for me. I'm so hurt by my own father, I don't want to make myself vulnerable in the same way again. I'm so afraid that I'm imagining it all and it's all in my head and that I'll find out some awful truth that he really doesn't like me.

The professor is so moody, I never really want to waltz into his office because I'm so scared he'll yet at me, and I'll just lose the plot and step out in front of a bus or train. But excepting the time he actually did yell at me, he's always been good to me, regardless of his mood. So I guess in that sense my fear is rather unfounded, but still it persists.

After this encounter with the professor, I just thought, I can't do this. I can't step out in front of a train now. What if what he says is true. If he does consider me as his family, my self inflicted demise could really upset him. And I can't bear the thought of him being upset. I'm so fond of him, and he's such a dear person to me, I can't upset him like that. And he really did seem happy to have me back. So I drove home, and tucked myself up in bed, which is where I am now.

Funny to think, he'll never know that a simple sentence from him saved me from a date with the head of a train. But it's something I'll always remember. The day I almost did it.

something big, something nasty

"There is something big growing inside you, and you have to hide it away and push it down...you are just too nasty for words."

Now those aren't words that are easy for anyone to stomach. And as for me, my father's rather unfortunate choice of words there makes it all the much harder. If I read that sentence out of context, as you will be doing, it makes it sound like I come from some sort of hugely religious family and I have just gotten myself pregnant out of wedlock and my father has just found out I am carrying a bastard child. Would you have guessed that I earned myself that walloping by staying in bed because I was feeling sick and not wanting any lunch?

A very long time ago I wrote a blog entry (professional incompetence) about being sat down and having a "family meeting" whereby my parents dragged out for hours all my incompetencies and shortcomings and reinforced a message that I have hearing all my life: you will never be good enough to be loved by anyone.

Well today there has been another meeting. Another serious meeting. The year is always filled with these sorts of meetings scattered around but fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it) there are only 1 or 2 serious ones each year. I had one earlier this year and today was another one. At least I can rest knowing that there shouldn't be any more serious ones this year.

Today's meeting was triggered by me wanting to stay in bed. [For fuck's sake, what's wrong with that. I'm recovering from exams, all I want to do is stay in bed.] I was already in a rotten mood because I'd wanted to drive around the countryside and had woken up too late to do so and so I all I wanted to do was stay in bed.

Riveting, isn't it. I'm sorry that this isn't very exciting, to be honest, I don't know why my parents made such a big deal out of it. Their reaction really sort of would have been appropriate for something like, if I'd been found injecting myself with heroin and wouldn't get out of bed due to some drug induced stupor.

And since I'd woken up around lunchtime, I didn't want to eat any lunch and when they called me for lunch, I said that I didn't want any and didn't go down. Honestly, tell me if I'm crazy, because thus far, I don't think I've done anything wrong at all.

But because of this, my father stormed into my room and dragged me into his room and sat me down to have another family meeting. Apparently, I'd made my mother cry. And he was mad. How dare I have the insufferable cheek to something like that. How dare I. Don't I know how lowly I am?

I have to say that I bore the vast majority of this meeting with iron will and poker face. I was actually feeling rather smug about how well I was handling it. But then, suddenly, for no real reason, I felt it all control slipping away and no matter how much I willed my eyes not to produce tears, they wouldn't listen. It was a moment of total and utter loss. Like all the energy drained out of me and I felt like slumping forwards, have all life drain out of me and just die there.

Afterwards, it was the first time in my life when I've actually physically crawled into a corner and beg to be left alone. I've never felt so small, and so attacked. It's been almost 12hours since the event and I'm still crying. My eyes feel so strained, they feel like they are shriveling up in the sockets and getting ready to fall out of my head. My father told me to always remember that I have something big and nasty inside of me, and that I have to hide it or I will never be loved. That I am not perfect, and unless I improve, I will never be loved. Among lots of other things that I shan't bore you with.

The long and short of it is, I'm an awful, awful person and I will never be loved. The end.

I think that for a long time now, I have been slowly losing hope. Hope in what? I don't really know. Perhaps, hope of me possibly having a happy ending. After today, I don't really think I have much, if any, left. And I find myself making very, very different suicide plans. Previously, I'd always thought of taking a big overdose. Saving up on drugs and taking a huge dose and just being found, dead on my bed. But now, I find that this method has too much uncertainty. What if I am found before I am dead? What if I don't take a large enough dose? No, I've decided I need a method that will make sure I will be dead at the other side of it.

So I've decided that I will drive my car to a neighbourhood that I used to live in and then I will be dressed all in black, and it will be late at night and I will wait in the bushes by the train track and then just leap in front of it. Being hit by a train seems like a reasonably certain method of committing suicide. And I really do want to do it. I'd do it now, but for the moment, I'd feel too much guilt about leaving my friend all by herself next year, in a flat that she can't afford by herself. But part of me is really itching to just go out and do it. This is perhaps the most serious I've ever been about it. I don't care that I have a big holiday coming up, I don't care that I'm so close to qualifying as a doctor, I don't care that I am going to work in Bristol for a bit next year. I don't care. I just want to die. And not have to deal with any of this bullshit.

But I am too fat to do that just now. I have to die thin. I need to be thin. I want to be thin so that I can curl up on my bed and look small. Does that sound stupid?

fattening up

Well this certainly is a new experience for me. Never in my life have I tried to make myself look fat. I haven't completely lost my mind. I'm not actually trying to gain weight. I'm just trying to make it look like I haven't lost any more. I had a wee bit of a panic after work and now realise that I'm in really quite deep. I can't stop the weight loss. I can't bear the thought of not losing more weight. All I can think of is how I can alter my eating and exercise to lose weight even faster and how upset I am at not losing weight fast enough.

When I look in the mirror all I see is fat everywhere and problem areas and places that are so hideous, I can barely bring myself to look, but I force myself to. I have no idea what everyone is on about when they say that I definitely look like I've lost weight because the scales haven't changed and my clothes don't feel any looser. I don't know why people are so worried, I've still got lots of fat left on me, there is definitely no cause for concern.

I'm not totally out of touch with reality. I can understand that if I was super thin, people might be concerned but as I'm still really fat, there is nothing to be concerned about. I do find it flattering but it is starting to get extremely annoying, and it is making weight loss more complicated. For the first time in my life I'm finding myself trying to work out how slowly I can lose weight without people noticing and what I can wear to look fat.

It's much more traumatic than I thought it would be. I hate looking fat and I've always tried to look thin so to make myself look fatter than I am is an extremely hard thing to do. Still, whatever it may take to keep my job and continue to lose weight!

trouble.

Started work and I can already sense the trouble. I must have been seriously deluding myself when I thought that I wouldn't have any trouble losing weight and working at the same time. Today was my first proper day of work and everyone I spoke to in the department are up in arms about my weight.

I have completely mixed feelings about this. On the one hand I am completely flattered. I feel great when people notice that I've lost weight. It's marvellous affirmation of what I am doing and I feel like my work has paid off. For a fleeting moment, a wonderful fleeting moment, my soul feels light as a feather and I feel like I'm floating away, a shadow of myself, floating with the light, pure and holy. But it is only for a moment. Deep down I know I am still fat, that I haven't changed weight from the second before they told me I looked thin, and that I am still extremely fat, that I look pregnant and that I have many, many more pounds to lose before I am content.

On another level there is fear. These are no nonsense people. I didn't expect anyone to notice my weight loss, especially because I have lost so little since I last saw them, so little that I can't notice a change at all. If they can see weight loss that I can't see, what are they going to do about weight loss that even I can see?

This fear is especially because I haven't seen the professor yet. And he is the one who is hawk eyed about my weight. If he thinks I've lost weight, I am going to get my ass kicked. I am going be sitting in shit up to my eyeballs. But I may be able to avoid seeing him for quite a while yet so I have some self preservation time left. I have no idea what might happen if he decides I've lost too much weight. I just know with a certain degree of certainty that if that day comes to pass, shit will hit the fan.

Lucky for me the work that I'm doing doesn't really require me to be that exposed o the department so they can't really be giving me a hard time for losing weight. I will lose the weight, regardless of what other people think. I know that I'm fat and I will be thin!

With great relief I find that I am back to 121lbs today. Got rid of that one stupid pound! My legs are so sore I can barely bend them. Still, that one pound gain made me drag myself out running, it's a really odd feeling, running with legs so sore that they feel completely unstable. I will have to start doing more yoga to tone my upper half.

To end this post with some sort of a positive note, if I stand with my feet together, only the tops of my thighs touch and if I tilt my pelvis, then I have the most slender little gap between them. It's insignificant. It's not really a gap, it doesn't count until I can stand with my feet together with no pelvic tilt and see a gap. But it is encouraging. It means that it is possible. And it means that I'm close. When I reach 115lbs, I should see some sort of gap. I can't wait!

Fat Piggy-thank you for your comment. I hate looking pregnant, I can't believe someone actually thought you were pregnant! You look slim to me! I would've been tempted to slap their face! Hope the exams went well.

Jackie-I know that 1lb isn't a huge deal, but still, like you said, I can't help but feel like a failure for it. If only the scales would only go down!

the weigh in

It's quiet. Everyone is busy with their own little parts in this scripted world. I feel a little bit safer, a little bit less paranoid about them hearing the voices in my head that are constantly screaming at me. In a movement that is by far the most agile of the day, I whip into my bathroom and close the door behind me in one motion. There I stay for a few seconds, with my back to the door, barricading myself in, I cherish the wild beating of my heart and the adrenalin that is already seeping into my veins.

Not daring to look at the door again, I reach behind myself and click the lock, twisting it all the way, to be sure, to be sure, to be sure again. A few more seconds pass. Now I can hear my heart in my ears and the screaming in my head is beginning to throb. Before I can lose courage I strip off. I rip of my clothes as if they somehow burn my skin. Standing naked before my scale, I can feel myself trembling inside. Very quickly I step on and the digital face begins to toy with my resolve.

The first number is always small, 80lbs or something near that but sadly it does not stop there and as certain as the sun will rise, it begins to spiral upwards. 90lbs, 112lbs, 118lbs, 122lbs. And that is where it stops. It flashes at me, taunting me. 122lbs. I step off and on again. 122lbs. And off and on again. 122lbs. I must do this three times, to make sure that the number I'm seeing is correct. And when I'm sure, that's when the sickness sets in.

My legs feel like jelly. The running that I've started is hammering home how unfit I am. They ache and I can't bend them without pain, but I don't deserve a life without pain so this is fine. The room sways as if somebody has picked it up and is carrying it around. I hold onto my bathroom sink. I'd vomit into it if I had anything to vomit up. I've been fasting since 9am and now it is 9pm. I think I'll skip dinner.

There is so much disgust in my body that I'm sure it is radiating from me in the form of heat. I dare not look my parents in the eye as I mumble that I've already eaten and I'm not hungry. I can't face food right now. Not after gaining 1lb. Maybe it's because I've weighed myself at night instead of in the morning. But that is no excuse.

I think I'll fast tomorrow as well. I'll fast and come home late and face my scale again. Yes, that's what I'll do, I decide as I stare at the 122lbs again. That will teach me for being such a fat pig. And now I look in the mirror to see what 122lbs looks like. I can cradle my tummy, there is so much fat there that I look like I'm pregnant, yup, side on, I look like I'm an expectant mother. My thighs are touching, disgusting, I feel like vomiting on them. When I run I can feel them slide past each other with each step. Though I'm so tired and sore I feel like falling over, that squish and slide of my thighs forces me onwards. My arms, the wings that hand from my arms are putrid. Absolutely putrid. There is nothing I like.

And I try to superimpose the image of a thin person over my gruesome body. I know it is hiding under the fat. I know I can get it out. I know I must. It is the real me. I am hiding under the fat. And now is the time to sit quietly in my room and reprimand myself for letting myself become such a repulsive blob. As I do each night, I sit here and force myself to feel all the fat on my body. I think of all the people who I want to impress. The fat isn't impressing anyone. Fat is keeping me back from my real potential. Fat needs to go away so that Bones can show her beauty.

underneath we're not so tough and love is not enough.

Day 1 of proper holiday stuff and I'm already feeling the stress. I wish I could just be content with general surgery, then life would be a hell of a lot easier. But no. I have to go chasing the unobtainable (again) and stress myself to the max (again) and surround myself with triggers (again). Ah the curse of history repeating itself, but I must like it on some level or I wouldn't keep doing it.

I've just realised that my opening sentence sounds a bit strange. I should say that the reason the holidays stress me out is because I'm working, and I have to contact the professor about a 4 week project that has now dragged out a full year. I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it. At least it puts me off my food, every cloud has a silver lining after all.

Now that the summer is on it's way the high pace stage of my weight loss plan kicks into action. I'm thinking that I will diet and will work on skipping lunch and dinner and just having some salad and an egg for breakfast. I'm also thinking of daily 8km runs and yoga and taebo. That should kick some sort of shape into the gelatinous mess that I am right now. I'm 121lbs and I feel like such a big ugly slob.

I have no idea how I tolerated being 143lbs for so long. I must have looked an absolute fright at 143lbs, I must have, because I feel an absolute fright right now and I'm 22lbs lighter than I was then. I hope that by the time I get to 100lbs I don't feel quite so heavy anymore. But you never know. I don't feel any better about myself now than I did when I was 143lbs, on a logical, rational level I know that I should feel some sense of pride for the weight that I've lost but on a much deeper emotional level I feel even more disgusting.

The more weight I lose, the more I want to lose. Maybe it's because with every pound I shed I uncover a small block of potential. As the fat drips off, some sort of light is shining through and it offers me something to hold onto.

But I know now what the light at the end of the tunnel is.

I feel as though I am stuck in a railway tunnel, stumbling across the sleepers, bruising my shins on the rails, grasping at the darkness and finding nothing. The cold, wet solitude of my silent prison stings my skin and the cold, wet solitude of my soul pours down my face as tears that nobody will ever see. But still I crack a smile, it's almost a gruesome sneer, it's satirical broken smile, a sort of Hail Mary to a world that has shunned me and forced me here.

I wish you could see what you have done, are you still proud of yourself?

And in my world of darkness and seemingly infinite horizontal space, I am fit to burst. The air is filled with promises that I can't keep, undeserved faith and words I can never live up to. And the pressure continues, a lonely little girl who just wants a hug, it's not too much to ask for, but it is too much to expect from people who have no hugs left to give. Maybe if I was smaller I would fit in their arms better. Maybe if I was smaller, someone might have the energy to pick me up and tell me that I don't have to walk anymore. Maybe if I was smaller someone would want to feed me the love that I've been deprived of.

But I live in the present, not in a world of ifs and buts. And at present all I know for certain is that there is no one else here and no one wants to hold me. It is so cold. No one to kiss me except the scalpel blades that I hoard. A sharp metallic kiss that is second to none in this world. And for a moment, if I close my eyes and be very still, I can pretend that the warm blood seeping out of my arms and legs and abdomen is the warm embrace of a soul who cared enough to stop and see.

And this is the cruelty of my reality. When I saw J and TS and SPM today, for the first time in a long time, I realised that I've been living in some sort of dream world. It's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder and now it is clear to me that as much as I might yearn for it, they will never think of me as their pet. No matter how much I might care for the professor, he will never be my father. They will never be my family. They do hold some true affection for me, but it runs no deeper than what would be considered normal for one to feel for a student. It was a dream, nothing more.

To die, to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream...For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.

And the realisation of this was quite momentous for me, it really was the death of all hope. I had been holding onto some rose tinted notion that these people might somehow be able to reach down through the earth and find me falling around in my tunnel and pull me up to green pastures and circulating air. But no, I shall be left here to stew and rot in my own sour air and continue on in the darkness, not knowing if I'm walking forwards or backwards or towards anything in particular.

In a way I'm grateful to have this moment. It means that I don't have to waste more time clinging tooth and nail onto false hope. And now, more clearly than ever, I'm starting to see the light at the end of my tunnel. And it is my salvation and it will end my suffering and it will be the end of all things. And one day I know I will be too tired to carry on but then I shall summon all the strength left in every single muscle fibre in my body and run into the light, meet my train head on and I will be bathed in light and sound. Blinded by white, that passenger train will impart its impulse unto my mortal flesh and the energy will course through my body, right to the heart of me and I will fly. Fly through the air and die on the very ground that I've trodden my whole life.

The light at the end of the tunnel is my passenger train and it will make me fly and it will take me away from this world into the next, or into further darkness. And so I can see the end of all things for me. I know that at some point, all this will cease to be worth the effort and when I decide that, I will be consumed with power and with that overwhelming power, I will choose to leave this world.

There is nothing in this world that can save me. Love is not enough.

the professor and my fitness to practice

My 100th post!!!!!!!!! I am amazed. Quite proud of myself really, I wasn't sure I'd keep it up for this long. I've been trying to lose weight for as long as I can remember, but this is the first time an attempt has lasted almost a year (and actually amounted in much success). I'm now back to below the weight I was at when I was at high school and I'm happy about that. I'm not at my goal weight yet, but looking on facebook, all my high school classmates have gained weight so now if I ever have the misfortune of seeing one of them again, they won't be able to call me fat. Bitches.

I thought that post no. 100 ought to be dedicated to the professor and I say this in a rather satirical manner because if he could read this, he would kick my ass from here till infinity. Also, I mention him quite a bit so it's only fair that I explain a little bit more about him. He was one of the triggers for this serious weight loss attempt and ironically, he is the one most worried about it. He's been there from the start of this journey and will continue to be part of it, for at least another month and a bit.

The professor is a man who is head of department of ophthalmology and is THE man in his field in this country. He is married to J, who runs the laboratories in the department. They are about the same age as my parents and have no children of their own. Between the two of them they have some of the sharpest minds I have ever encountered. And it is because of this that I regard them both with a great amount of suspicion because you never know what they've noticed about you.

Although they are both rather picky, the professor is absolutely notorious for it. While they are both extremely professional, they rarely take exception to people and are known for being tough on students. The professor simply terrorises the other students who come into contact with him and has quite the reputation because of it. He makes them shake in their boots, and makes me shake in my boots too.

They have both taken exception to me for a number of reasons. The professor has a brother who has daughters. I suspect that the reason the professor and J have no children of their own is because J has an eating disorder. Although I don't know this for sure, J is very slim, she is dedicated to exercising and I was convinced of it when I went out to lunch with them and J's eating patterns and the professor always watching her eat sealed the diagnosis.

The fact that they want a daughter (as every single person they have ever both really liked has been a girl) and their heightened awareness of EDs makes me an almost ideal person for them to be drawn to. Plus, I'm also hard working and charming when I need to be lol.

And they are both like parents to me. As I have a non-functional father and a largely absent mother, I crave being parented and having proper parents. I'm extremely infantile and I love being looked after even though I am almost 22 years old and live away from home.

That's probably why I find them so triggering. (And as it turns out, this post has become another occasion when I slow walk myself to some epiphany.) I never could be good enough for my own parents and my father constantly told me I was too fat and ugly. Now that I have given them the affection I would've given my real parents, I am trying to be thin for them, to make sure that they like me.

Only this has become extremely problematic. I am now terrified that they will question my fitness to practice and insist that I get treatment in order to continue working as a doctor. I have no idea what will happen if they tell me they want to do that. So, in the meantime, as I continue to lose weight, I have to be careful to hide it.

By the way, I have lost 2lbs and am now down to 121lbs! Only 6lbs away from my next goal weight! I hope to crack that within the next 2 weeks.

So for the next 2 months while I am back working for the professor and J, I will be watching every single step that I take. I intend to start work in the afternoons so they don't see that I miss lunch, and work into the night so that my family don't see that I miss dinner. And I plan to spend the mornings working out. With that combination, I should be able to drop more weight. We shall see how it all goes.

I know that they were both concerned about my weight loss in the middle of the year, as was most of the department actually. I don't know how they will respond when I start losing weight while working for them. Hopefully, as they will see me everyday, they might not notice it so much. I don't need them trying to feed me.

And then I find myself so torn. I want nothing more than to be thin. But I think I might have found some people who actually care about me and I don't want to piss them off.

that fat person waddle and a new way of cutting

I have a real bone to pick with fat people tonight!!!!! (no pun intended) One of the things that I find most annoying about fat people is the way they walk. Have you noticed that they have this particular fat person waddle that they do? I think it's because their thighs are so fat that their knees can't touch and so they have a real broad based gait. They sort of have to sway from side to side in order to take steps because they can't really put one foot in front of the other.

And because of this side to side, they don't really move forwards that much, well, they're not exactly doing their fat person waddle quickly either. I was stuck behind 2 of these people today...well, I get stuck behind them quite a lot, but today it really got my goat.

It was in the grocery store carpark and I had a trolley full of groceries and it was raining, I was trying to get to my car really fast so that I could just load it up and drive off without getting too wet but alas! It was not to be so! I got stuck behind these people that were doing the fat person waddle and I swear I was so mad I was this [---] close to yelling at them. I was getting drenched in the rain just because they were too fat to walk any faster! Where is the justice in that!

Ugh. I just had to get that off my chest, I am so unspeakably angry at fat people who get in my way. It's so gross to walk behind them and see all that fat. I also hate how they somehow think they can wear leggings. It's like, ummmm, excuse me, you can't wear fucking leggings, you're fucking obese! I don't want to see the exact outline of your rolls of fat! Some things should only be made in small sizes because fat people should not be allowed to wear them. If they want to wear them, they should lose weight.

But yes, the other thing I wanted to talk about was cutting. For those of you who have followed my blog from the start, you will be aware that I like to cut myself. Self harm, call it what you like. Anyway, I sort of felt like sharing that a wee bit more because I've been enjoying it more than usual.

I normally try to restrict the amount that I cut. My favourite part to cut is my forearm and it is just so visible, I don't want to get in trouble for it. I've started cutting my flanks but it's not quite the same. However, I see it as almost an art form and so I started trying to cut in places that I found to be a good canvas if you will. I'm lucky enough to have scalpel blades and so I can make very sharp, very precise cuts, I also have surgical marker so I sometimes mark out where I want to cut first.

Here are some pictures of my scalpel blades:

I prefer this type to the round type because it's easier to use the very tip and so easier to make patterns and such with.

Since I've been doing this since I was maybe 14 or 15 years old, I'm surprised that tonight was the fist time I did it in the shower. I was particularly upset after the fat person encounter and especially stressed about my exam tomorrow and I really wanted to cut but I also knew I'd probably need a shower to calm myself down. Then it occurred to me, I could just cut in the shower. It seems like such a logical thing to do, no risk of somebody walking in and catching me and there is something about doing it in the shower that feels just so CLEAN.

It was marvelous. At the end of the day, I am a surgeon at heart and I am obsessed with sterility. That's why when I cut I try to clean the area with an alcohol wipe first (but sadly I've run out of them) and then I use sterile surgical blades and then I clean the area with iodine. I try to use each blade maybe 5 times, because they are expensive and I can't go buying hundreds of them. Sadly, in the shower they are definitely a one time use thing. But it is sooooo worth it. It was so comfortable cutting the shower and so CLEAN.

This is a cut that I did on my left shoulder a few days ago. That was take two because I was concerned that the cut wasn't deep enough the first time to scar. It is aligned really well and once it has scarred up it will just be some faint lines. That's the beauty of the scalpel, I find that it scars very well, they don't get ugly hypertrophic scars. But that was out of the shower, and I never know quite the best way of cleaning up. I try to mop the blood away but then it just keeps coming until it clots and then I have this awful clot on my arm.

That's the beauty of the shower, the water just cleans it away! I'm a bit OCD about being clean. I just cut and then the blood just ran down my leg and got washed away, it was fantastic. and there is something about hot water hitting the area that I'm cutting that makes it so very soothing. Below is a picture of what I did in the shower.

Yes, that is a picture of my ugly fat thigh. Feel free to use it as reverse thinspo, it is rather disgusting. But let me draw your attention to the lovely, lovely thin lines. So clean! And, look at how parallel they are! I was sitting in a really weird cramped position when I did these and they turned out so well. That was taken right after I stepped out of the shower and now they have reddened up a bit more but still, they look sooooo good! The longer cut goes almost the entire length of my thigh. I don't know why I didn't try this sooner, I see a new addiction!!!

Stay strong my lovely skinnies and soon we will be thin together!

THINSPIRATION!!!! (thirty two kilos)

Here is some thinspo for you lovely girls. These are photos from a collection called "thirty two kilos". They have been digitally altered to look extra thin, but very beautiful don't you think? I shall never be able to look like that, simply because I am so short, I can't possibly have limbs really that long. But still, something for thinspiration!

the pro ana community

I guess I can understand why some people just can't understand the importance of the pro ana community. I guess it's like how some people don't like it when doctors all band together and protect each other through the thick of it. It doesn't matter if we have never met each other. It doesn't matter if I don't fully understand what has gone wrong. It doesn't matter who is after your blood. At the end of the day, we are bonded by something that can't be broken, held together by a force that will be with us till we depart this world. We are part of a special little club that they can't join.

It's a camaraderie that is second to none. Oceans and mountains and deserts and forests may part us but I can feel our hearts beating together. When somebody succeeds in losing weight, I feel a pride equal to if I had lost it myself (albeit sometimes tainted with dash of jealousy) because I know that my friend Ana has shared her love with somebody else.

And who we are to the societies we live in is irrelevant in light of our common goal. In public you could be the quiet girl at the back of the class, you could be the one all your friends cry to, you could be a brilliant lawyer, a caring doctor, a daughter, a wife, a mother. But online, connected through the words we type to one another on our keyboards, we are the same. In this way we are not isolated, in this way we are supported, in this way we work together and we cry together and we bleed together. We become thin together my ana sisters.

We are worlds apart but we share the same reality, we share the same path.

Ode to Ana

It's nearly midnight and I've flushed away any chances of me getting an early night and getting up early to study for exams. But you know, sometimes it's so hard to sleep when there is something inside that is trying to get out. So I got up and got out my notebook and pen and a wee bit of poetry came out.

I'm no great poet but it's something I enjoy doing. I think I posted a poem on here a while ago about self harm and now here is my Ode to Ana/Ed:

Suffocating and hot

Like insects across my skin

I have to get it off

Perfection's buried within

In times of hopeless pain

You come and take my hand

Whisper in my mind

I finally understand

No matter how life changes

You will always be my friend

The only one to love me

Until whatever end

I wish I didn't need you

But without you I'm alone

In a cold world full of hate

I can't do this on my own

You are my only hope

That I will ever find

Peace within my body

My clothing and my mind

Everybody hates you

And say I am your slave

But only you can give me

The thinness that I crave

In you I place my trust

I'll do everything you say

Please take all of me

And lead me into grace.

notes on fasting

I just wrote an email to one of my ana buddies about fasting. And after I sent it I realised that it was actually a pretty good description of what it was like for me. So I have posted it below. If any of you reading has ever considered fasting, I highly recommend it. Please read how I found it and I hope that it encourages some of you to try it.

"Oh hun, I really, really suggest you try fasting then. I used to be just like that. I felt like I needed food all the time and I never really felt like I could go without it and I really struggled to eat less.

Then one day, I had a really bad day and thought stuff it, I'm not going to eat today just so that I can say I achieved something today. And believe me, the first couple of hours are tough. I was so used to eating because I was bored or sad or whatever. And the first couple of hours were just wanting to eat because that's what I normally do. And once I passed that stage and real hunger set in, it got harder because then I was actually hungry and I wanted to eat. But I just thought, I have to do this and so I didn't eat. And when I passed the point of hunger, I was so proud!

I think by then I was running on pure adrenalin and I was in awe of me not eating food for that long and not being hungry. By then I was so far into my fast that I thought I can't give up now. Let me tell you, once you reach this stage you feel so mighty and powerful. It's so hard to explain, it's something you have to experience to understand it. 18hours in, no food, not feeling hungry, wired on adrenalin and you are simply filled with a rush of power.

I had never felt so in control in my life. There are simply no words to describe the amount of power that filled me. I knew at that point that I could do it and so that first experimental fast of mine lasted 2 days. And I didn't feel hungry, I was perfectly happy drinking cups of hot tea and coffee. It was a 2 day long high, I'd never felt so happy, the emptiness in my tummy reminded me of lightness, I was in control, of everything.

And once you've felt it, you'd do anything to feel it again. So for a while I did week long liquid fasts and nothing I've ever done has made me feel that accomplished.

It may not be an easy first step to take but you will have to just bite the bullet and pick a day and fast for 24 hours. Then you understand that you can go without food, you understand that you don't need food at all and that you feel a whole lot better without it. It's the drug that makes you thinner!

I did 5 day fasts and then ate on weekends for about 3 months and dropped lots of weight. Then I got really anaemic and that made me really short of breath and then I started getting super bad muscle spasms in my feet because I was so low in potassium. I never told anybody because I didn't want to be hospitalised, but I did have to start eating more again. Now I fast in a more controlled manner but still, nothing comes close to that feeling.

With summer approaching again I will start the fasting again and I will drop the weight!"

RAAAAGE!!!! (over fat people and Mila Kunis cops some flack)

There has been something that has got up my hooter. I know that Black Swan was a while ago now and the comments that Mila Kunis made about weight loss were equally long ago, but someone brought it up recently and it got right up my nose so brace yourself for another rant.

I am frankly sick and tired of fat people making excuses about why they are fat. Oh, it's genetics, oh, it's big bones, oh, it's slow metabolism. BULLSHIT. I don't know if any of you watch a TV series called "Embarrassing Fat Bodies" but it has basically proved that each of these little theories that fat people use to make themselves feel better are absolutely positively false.

The slow metabolism one is my favourite pet peeve. Slow metabolism my ass. Want to know who has slow metabolism? Anorexic people, severely underweight and malnourished people. So, my friends, if thin people are more likely to have slow metabolism, by deduction, who do you think will have fast metabolism? Fat people! The fact of the matter is, metabolism is determined by body mass, the bigger you are, the faster your metabolism. Metabolic rate is made of 3 parts. The energy your body needs to keep all its cells functioning, the energy used to produce body heat and the energy used to digest food. Fat people have more cells, produce more body heat and eat more and so they have faster metabolic rates. As I said, slow metabolism my ass.

The big bones one doesn't bother so much as it is so obviously bullshit. Look at a fat person, does it look like they have huge bones? No. They just look like they have lots of layers of fat. In fact, it would be good if a fat person had "big bones" and by that I mean "dense bones". The increased load that the extra weight puts stress on the bones and they should become more dense in order to deal with it. Unfortunately, most fat people eat junk food and so actually don't have much nutrition and so they don't get dense bones. This makes them more at risk of breaking their bones. The thing is, the fat causes the dense bones, not the other way round.

Nooooow, for the genetics *cracks knuckles*. Oh yes, it is perfectly true that there are those among us who have a genetic predisposition for obesity. But that is just genetic potential. It's what we do with the potential that actually defines what happens. Now, in embarrassing fat bodies, they tested the genetics of a family of fat people who were convinced that they were genetically fat and they also tested the genetics of their doctor who was a normal sized lady. They scored each person based on how genetically likely they were to be obese. Every person in the family scored very low and the doctor had an extremely high score. This means that out of all these people, the thin doctor was genetically the most likely to be obese. So, a genetic potential is a genetic potential. If you eat right and exercise, nothing in this world can make you gain weight. If you eat less calories than you use, you lose weight. And even if you have no genetic predisposition to get fat, you will get fat if you eat too much and sit on the couch.

These are just all excuses for laziness and not wanting to face up to the truth. I hold a certain amount of respect for fat people who front up and say "I'm fat because I eat too much". I also hold a certain respect for fat people who I see at the gym or out running because these are the people who have decided to do something practical and lose the weight instead of sitting on their asses and complaining and making excuses.

Now Mila Kunis was slagged off widely online and in the media for saying that anyone can lose weight. WTF. I don't understand why she was slagged off. What she said was perfectly true. It's just fat people getting defensive and other people labouring under political correctness. I think by now you have realised that my blog is horrendously politically incorrect and I am pretty straight up in saying what I think is true.

I hate all the excuses we as a race make for those who are fat. I hate how obesity has become almost accepted. Especially where I live, a size 14-16 has become "normal". WTF it is not normal, size 14 is freaking huge. Somehow the general public has come to accept the lies and excuses made by fat people. We tolerate them, we think, oh, poor fat person, maybe they are genetically like that or maybe they have a slow metabolism. Bullshit, they are just lazy.

Mila Kunis was absolutely correct. I read a comment online about what she said. It said that oh, there are some fat people who just can't lose weight and skinny people who believe what she said have no hearts or souls. Fired me right up! Fat people can lose weight if they put in the work. If they worked out 8 hours a day and ate 1200cal in 5 small meals like Mila Kunis did for Black Swan, each and every one of them would drop weight.

Plus, look at The Biggest Loser. Morbidly obese people who are kicked into action by tough trainers and forced to stick to a healthy diet. They lose hundreds of pounds. These are people who have been fat their whole lives and come from fat families. (By the way, the reason families are fat is because families eat together and tend to have similar exercise routines and so tend to have the same weight ranges.) It just goes to show that if you work hard, you will lose the weight. Anyone who is forced to eat less and work out more will lose weight. End of story.

the same old tricks and DSM-IV diagnosis

Firstly, thank you to Krystal for your lovely comment on my last post. You're always so supportive and I love how you always seem to understand what I mean. I love your comments!

Now that it is well and truly exam season I'm going back to the same old routine that always happens when I do exams. I am now going to attempt to explain why this time it is the same things but with a big difference.

I'm 21 years old now and I've sat my fair share of exams. I've been at university for 5 years now and have developed my own way of coping with the medical school exams. There are a few things that always seems to happen.

1. I start eating lots of junk food. No regular meals, just some sort of continuous stream of weird food.

2. I start writing lots, this time it is in blog format, before it was in journals. Always some sort of contemplative, reflective piece. I always try to sort out major life issues during exams.

3. I plan lots of things to do after exams, it seems like I'm doing my utmost to distract myself doesn't it.

4. I spend a lot of money on casual "study" clothes, hoodies, loose pants, shorts, things that I normally wouldn't wear. I buy them online at bargain prices, they never arrive early enough for me to actually wear them during study and so I never wear them.

5. I buy the things that I have been putting off buying all of that year, things that I said I wouldn't buy because people wouldn't approve, like tapers for stretching my ears.

6. And possibly the most important rule...anything goes. I do whatever I want to. As long as it keeps me calm enough to do some form of study, I will do it.

The difference this year is that even though anything goes, I am still very concerned about my weight. And this isn't something that has ever happened before. I have never worried about exam weight. It was always something that needed to happen in order for me to pass and so it didn't matter. But this time, I'm worried about it and I'm making plans of how to lose weight after exams.

To me, this is a real sign of how far I have come in the course of this year in terms of eating disorders. Now it is something that can't be fixed by someone telling me quite honestly that I am beautiful. It is something that won't go away no matter how much people get worried. It is something that won't go away no matter how much people tell me I don't lose weight or look thin. It is something that won't go away, not even if my career is threatened (and it has been, even if he was joking, I know there is some truth behind it).

I think about being thin with each bite of food that I take. Even if I'm binging, I'm acutely aware of my eating, making most of my eating very unenjoyable. But yet I still binge. And yet I can't bring myself to purge because each time I stand over the toilet I think about Mallory Weiss tears and decaying teeth. But I still binge, and I hate myself for it.

During exams, this becomes acceptable, just this time, it becomes something I will deal with later. I think it's fair to say that this has become something that is definitely here to stay.

I've dug up a copy of the DSM-IV and it would appear that I meet some of the criteria for anorexia nervosa and some of the criteria for bulimia. This surprised me a lot because I never thought I would meet any features of bulimia, but then I didn't realise exercise and starvation could be a method of purging. I thought purging was only self induced vomiting. I meet all of the requirements for anorexia except I am still in the normal weight range (but I'm working on that one!). So right now I qualify as EDNOS. Although there has been a lot of discussion about this, as 90% of those with eating disorders have EDNOS, and this suggests that criteria for anorexia and bulimia are too stringent.

The whole point of EDNOS is to have a category to put those who are harder to diagnose, and if 90% of those with eating disorders can't fall into a proper diagnosis then there is something wrong with the categories. I wonder what the DSM-V will have.

I wonder if I will fulfill criteria for anorexia in future.

the dream of size 0

There must come a time in everyone's life when enough is enough and we realise that to get the things we want, we have to work to earn it or reach up and take it. And I think that it takes a certain amount of courage to come to that realisation. And sometimes we have to risk losing what we have now in order to get everything that we have ever wanted.

For as long as I can remember, I dream of size 0. I think about it every day and it is always in the back of my mind. I can't even say that I want it because want isn't the appropriate word at all. I need it with every fibre of my being. I feel like I am a thin person stuck in a fat person's body. Every now and then I will forget about how fat I am and spend a glorious few minutes believing that I am size 0. I can even feel a gap between my thighs and a hollow in my abdomen. Then I will walk past a mirror and be reminded of the disgusting truth.

I've proved to myself this year that I can lose weight. I might have yoyo-ed up and down, but with a net loss of 10kg I can't complain. With this focus, and proof of my capabilities, I should have no trouble dropping more weight in summer. For once in my life I will look good in a swimsuit on holiday. I will not be ashamed to by summer clothes. I will not be too ashamed to go to the beach with my friends. I am determined to feel good about myself.

With the amount of work I am putting into exams, I know that if I can transfer this into working out and dieting, I will be able to drop weight. I am also looking for a dress for the Christmas party and although I don't know when it will be, I am determined to be thin for it. For some reason one of the things I've been thinking a lot about has been being able to sit on someone's knee. Not that I have done anything of the sort since I was maybe 7 or 8 but I really do miss the feeling of being cuddled on someone's knee. I don't know if I will ever experience it again, but if I'm ever given the tiniest chance, I will be thin enough. I will not crush the legs of whatever poor man who is brave enough to offer them. I want to be thin enough for him to put his arm all the way around my waist. Light enough for him to lift me up without straining himself.

I want to be able to sit on someone's knee and cross my legs and have my ankles next to each other, not one leg in the air because there is too much fat in the way for my legs to sit on each other. There are so many things that I want and all of them could be mine if I lost a lot of weight. So if that's what I want then that's what I will do.

I will lose weight and be happy.