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 I 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.

After a very stressful few weeks, and a very naughty weekend, I am feeling quite... (how shall we say) unqualified to fit into my skinny jeans this week.

So, now that I feel like a lot of the heat has let off, it's time for a good old-fashioned FAST. Just a little one, to see if anyone notices. It's 6 pm here on the east coast, and I have a party to go to tonight, followed by 2 auditions tomorrow, and another party tomorrow night. Evenings are usually my gym-time, so without an outlet for my persistent anxiety, I feel like I'd rather control my food intake if I can't get a grip on my energy output.

To keep eyebrows from raising, I'm going to try to keep pushing the fluids, keeping a drink of some kind with me at all times, to give an illusion of intake. However, I will try to keep these calorie counts down as well. Mostly water, maybe a little bit of VitaminWater, a sip or two of soymilk for breakfast, and coke zero if I MUST have caffeination. But no food. Until at least midnight tomorrow (Monday night).

I'm already anticipating the high!! And looking forward to telling ya'll how it went. God, I hope I get away with this. Depending on how it goes, who knows what I might do after this?

Who's fasting with me? 30 hours food-free! Let's do it! Think beautiful thoughts, girls! XOXO!

I've been reading Marya's book again. The last time I read it, it triggered me into a summer of long-term fasts (lost 20 pounds in 3 months), so I'm wondering what will happen to me now that "I've been rehabilitated." It's such a wonderful account of her journey. Those of you who've commented that you enjoy reading my stuff, I HIGHLY recommend you read this book. She's a fucking fantastic writer. She's a freakin' phenom, and I aspire to be her one day.

I'm not in ana-mode right now. No. Not that I don't want to. I've been back out on my own for several months now, but I'm still not entirely sure that I'm not being watched. But I can see the ana creeping back in. I'm back to my daily routine-making, gaining control. I've been having a bowl of cereal for breakfast (300 cals), a salad for lunch (440 cals), and a latte for dinner (260 cals), followed by 8-10 miles at the gym (950 cals) every day for the past few weeks. Some days work has gotten in the way, and I've had to switch to have the latte for lunch and the salad for dinner. And weekends are way harder when I'm out with friends. But for the most part I've been able to stick to it.

I'm not weighing myself. The scale is in the bathroom, and it's a struggle in my head every morning deciding whether to look or not. I don't want to know. I just know that I'm not even close to my all-time low weight, so I know I'll hate myself and relaspe for sure if I look. I'm scared to look. But I'm dying to know. I hate myself.

A little bit of trauma in my life lately. Same boy who left me for "fat cow", then broke up with her in November just shortly after I got sent away, then tried to get back with me when I got out... hasn't talked to me for about 3 months. I was ok with that. Until last week when he randomly decided to call me up for dinner, only to let me know that he'd met another girl and he's going to marry her. (SFX bomb-drop) Not that I ever really expected to marry him, but shit. Who decides to marry someone after only 3 or 4 dates? Apparently he does.

So yeah, that's been a little bit triggering. Had a helluva 11-mile run at the gym that night. But unfortunately that tipped me over the edge: I twisted my right hip and it's been aggravated since, keeping me from going to the gym the past 5 days. So trauma is just that much more... shitty.

I hate this life. Why do I bother to persist?

Anorexic Identical Twins Get Intervention

"I'd rather starve than be fat," says 22-year-old Julia. But at 5-foot-7-inches and 95 lbs., the frail girl is compared by her Polish parents to survivors of Auschwitz.

Julia's story was featured on last week's episode of our favorite reality show, A&E's "Intervention." As a young teen, when Julia developed earlier than her identical twin, she began exercising to lose weight.

Her sister, Sonia (three minutes younger and 3 inches shorter) who'd clung to her newfound identity as "the thin twin" followed suit.

A Deadly Pact
The girls' sisterly competition soon gnarled into a shared eating disorder. When the show was shot, the twins consumed about 300 calories a day, counted each others' steps to guarantee they burned equal calories and weighed their food before eating it, counting each piece of rice.

They also had a pact that they'd always weigh within 3 lbs. of each other. "I don't feel like we're two people sometimes," says Sonia. "We're one person." (Click here to see the full episode.)
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I cried more at this show than I did at my own intervention. Thank God my Dad was not like theirs. My Dad is a little more gruff and forceful. He thinks he can demand sense from me, and he doesn't let his compassion show. And I know how to cower and look obedient, so there weren't a whole lot of tears, just acknowledged "submission."

Now that I've been (about a month ago) released from recovery, I am working on composing my thoughts for you guys to fill you in on just what happened and where I am now, emotionally and psychologically. I did a lot of lying in treatment, so I think my brain's a little screwed up, a) from being disordered, b) from lying so much. It's hard to tell which way is truly north. But stay tuned, I'll have it all figured out and posted for you soon.

Starve on.