-Partly inspired by the LanguageOfPain page, as well as a couple conversations with friends, I decided to start this page. You don't have to be anorexic or bulimic to post here... this is to talk about your relationship with food, in any way. Maybe not just your relationship, but the way society expects you to be a certain way, and how you feel about your body, and anything else related. Also see EatYerVeggiesUp and MEAT
sitting here and reading this, i'm crying (finally) because i realize (finally) that i am no longer content with my body. it's never really been food. i'm not sure it is even food. i've grown up in a family who loves food. my parents grow vegetables commercially. my dad has worked in a resteraunt for the past twenty years. my mom has worked in resteraunts on and off. we have a bakery on our farm. food is something that is appreciated and something i have always enjoyed. but suddenly i'm waking up in the morning and saying to myself "don't eat breakfast today" and "don't have a snack either". Unfortunaly (or maybe fortunatly) it doesn't work. i keep on eating. keep on eating "too much" (enough...) and keep right on being unhappy with my body. because the image is stuck in my head. the image of what i want to look like. the image of who i should be. i remember the twelve year old me who promised herslef that this would never happen to her. she would always love her image. i believed that god damn it. i was going to make socioty stay the hell away from me. now it caught me. i like to wear shirst that show my stomach. it feels comfortable to me. but i never would dare except in my room. even there i am constantly watching. nervous that someone will see. because my stomach sticks out quite distinctly. between my jeans and the shirst bottom. it's a sad dream to want to wear those shirts. sometimes i truly believe i do eat too much. not a lot but beyond what my body needs to stay healthy. and sometimes i think i just need to find a way to be comfortable with my body and wearing those shirts just the way i am someone talk to me? bravely, franny
other sidei was 8 years old looking down at my plate of food just freshly dished out. daddy had just told me that day that i needed to "diet" and "watch my eating" and i was a little "on the chuby side". i staried down at it well my family ate there food. it smelt grose. i cought myself saying "im not hungry right now mummy... i'll eat some latter" the thing is "latter" never came. id go to bed with out supper. id wake up most of the time really moody. id have as little breakfast as i could get away with and id skip lunch. then dinner roaled around. i looked at the pot of food. "oh man i just had something to eat a little bit ago" i'd lie to my mom. "i'll have some latter" then id go outside and have one carot. but you see being 8 i didn't loose waight so id eat less and less trying ever so hard to eat a little bit less. some days id eat 1/2 an apple and 8 peaces of crushed pinaple. some days my mom woud call me into dinner and id pertend not to hear the bell. well you can guess i did this over and over. then id stop for a few months and then again. i was annerixic for almost 7 years. id stay wake at nights because i coudnt sleep. i wanted to die. id think up ways of killing myself with the least amount of pain. stabing? no to painful. we did have a 22 out in the shop. no they would hear. we might have some drugs in the bathroom. i went and looked. i cracked out the bottle and dumped every last little white tynal out. poored out a glass of water took a big gulp but something went wrong. i cant remember what happened then but i didnt take the pills. somone was walking around or some greater being told me that i shouldnt dop it but i FELT something outside. i drank the water tossed back the pills and cryed myself to sleep. they say when you suffer from annerixia your mind starts to go funny this is true because i can't remember much of the past 7 years. finaly the day came when we moved. more death trys folowed along with me eating less food. i went to camp and told myself that i had an eating dissorter. i knew then i needed to tell my family. i didn't know WHO but i knew i did. my 2 sisters already knew because i crossed on eating dissorter in the power shuffle. i was in the car driving back from camp. i knew i needed to tell my mom. it was bright and it was snowing heavly. i opened my mouth. nouthing came out. i sighed and said "mom theres something you need to know." my voice stammered a little then i said it without knowing it "i-i have an eating dissorter ... and i tryed to kill myself.....and im gay i thought you needed to know" the drive home was long. i just wanted to jump out of the car and die. i just told my mom that i had an eating dissorter and i tryed to kill myself and i was bi all at once. when we gothome things went from bad to worse. i was in theairop with a thairopist that hated, my friends lived thousands of miles away, my mom though this eating dissorter was HER failt (witch made things worse), our family didnt have a lot of money so i cut back on food without knowing it. then things went from worse to hell my sister left for eroup for a year. my sister was gone. i missed her and my friends and my daddy and everything else. i was standing in the kitchen with a tape from dawn playing. i started to cry i missed her so much. big teardrops fell off my cheeks. i picked up a knife and before i knew it i have 2 new fairly deep cuts on the sides of my thumb. shocked and pleased i droped the knife and got a bandade. i went up to my room and cryed some more. i cryed and cryed till i fell asleep. i woke up and felt crapy. i went down to shippys room. i stood inside her room. hands clutching my thumb. i knew i needed to tell her. i took a breath "i cut yesterday" i said plainly. she freaked out and gave me 3 minuets to think well she got mom. she draged (literaly) my to the living room sat my ass down got mom and told me " do you want to tell her or shall i?" i started to cry. i sobed out "i cut yesterday ......... im sorry" my mom tryed to hug me but i was to bitter. how DAIR she! shes trying to fucking hug me and my own sister making me tell my mom. my mom called shrink after shrink. within the time i moved into the ciry i had seen and talked to at least 7. 6 of witch i saw and talked to on my own. finaly i met sharin. she was nice and kind but i was to bitter angry grumpy and pissed at my family and myself. i saw her weekly. every week id walk the same steps up to her office. i hated going there. id drage my feet and id want to cry but i never let myself. then bit by bit i started to like her. she was spunky and cool and neat. she told me what i already knew but just said it out loud. i knew what i needed to to. i needed to travle. i needed to travle. i needed to stare into strangers faces and ask where the gray hound place was. i needed to travle without my mom dad or sisters peering over my sholder. i went down to CO. and stayed there. i learned alots and lots about myself. i came back and did it all over again. i wasnt fixed at all but getting neer. i needed to gop to camp and fix myself there. i got attuned to reiki and did healing circles. i knew by the end i needed to forgive my father my mother my sistrer and some people that had hurt me. im out now. i cut once in awhill and i eat enough. i am happy i lived in hell for 7 years because it has made me tuff as nails and i now know what my friends are going through. we are all hold one need like fine crystal. a "handle with care" sticker on our boxes as for me im tired and i still have a long hill to clime but this time i know im not alone I thought i won that battle. I stood in the kitchen, on the edge of tears. I thought i won that battle. I feel full hips moving, my breasts rising in every breath, i feel my bare feet pressing 160 solid pounds of blood flesh tears and power into the floors. I thought i won that battle. I remember the look on his face when i kissed him after all, the way she watched me move across the room, the edge of flirty comments, "just don't brush your hair and dance at the same time" she said laughing, the afternoons of laughing at ourselves. I thought i won that battle and finally feeling good about my body was the reward But the chart gets me every time. Its a simple Body Weight Mass index mom found upstairs and thinking we might be interested she brought it down. My heart skipped a beat when i first saw it. I know she means nothing by it, but it brings the battle up again, i can taste the meals i skipped and remember vividly the war against my body. "I have fought those charts my whole life" i told my mother standing with tears in my eyes, voice on the edge of rage "its been an uphill battle and i am finally winning". How do i prove I won? To say fuck you to every piece of modern culture who would like to tell me what size my ass is supposed to be? I won Dawn note...possibly the best site i've found, and definitely the most understanding: http://www.anorexicweb.com. it has additional info about bulimia, bingeing, etc. check it out. Fuck. I'm doing it again. I'm doing the guilt-myself-every-time-I-eat thing again. I thought I stopped doing that. The battle is daily and so I continue to lose. I force myself to vomit, I starve myself, I cut myself all in the name of punishing a body I hate with such depth. But...that is life, you ignore it for the most part and don't let people in on the pain too much. -gennie i hate my body. really that's all there is to it. well no. there is more, much much more. but the end result is, i hate my body. i can be as amazing, talented, funny and loving as can be, and have everybody tell me how cool i am, and still. all i see when i look in the mirror, is someone who doesn't wear the right size. so in order to combat these issues... i do nothing. i try not to eat. but i gorge. i hate it, i seem to have no control. i used to be on a swim team, so i'd swim HOURS every day, and could eat anything i wanted to, and still stay fit. i guess i haven't gotten used to not being able to do that, although it's been 2 years. i started swimming again though, and it feels So Good to be out there. i try to swim until i hurt, until i can feel every muscle in my stomach screaming. it's about control, still. i figure if i'm going to make myself hurt, working out till i'm in pain is the best way, right? but i still don't like to eat. but i love taste. ah yes. what a war is waged. a little more than a year ago, i just cut down majorly on my food intake. i didn't eat breakfast, or lunch, and only snacked a little bit at dinner. my friends noticed and forced me to eat. and i was glad they did. glad to have them as an excuse. so many times i've sat in front of the toilet, willing myself to throw up. i thought that would be so easy. but i can't throw up, i've had a phobia of it for as long as i can remember. so this continues to be a problem. and i can't escape it...
but now i feel minorely stupid and/or lame for writing this. i don't think i've talked about it much with other people. i mean, "looks aren't what matters" right? unfortunatly, that is an untruth 9 times out of 10.
it this something to be worried abount? yeaterday i didn't have breakfast or lunch but a bit of dinner. today i didn't have breakfast or lunch but a little snack. i'm really worried that my past eating dissorter has returned. help me? i want to eat but i don't feel hungry. bravely Heather i go through times... of self-hate. i think i give off this impression of being the healthy girl. the one who doesnt have any problems with her body. ryland was always shocked when i mentioned it, which was ironic to me. i don't spend hours of everyday obsessing over my weight. but when i sit down sometimes my tummy looks all chunky and seems gross to me. it wasn't until this year that i would let anyone see my legs in public because they aren't skinny. because they are white. but they're white because they aren't skinny and i was too afraid to let them get tan because that would mean making them public. so now for the first time since i was probably 12, i'm going to get shorts and allow my legs to tan. i generally eat what i want when i want, but occasionally i wonder if i'm eating too much ice cream or cheese or whatever. but i dont stop. i've never dieted... i just eat what my body tells me is okay to eat, and even when i hate myself for it, i don't force myself to stop. i respect my body enough that even when i question it, i don't allow my mind to take over with it's f*cked up superficial motives. i know i dont think about my weight as much as so many girls... i used to more. when i was 13-14, i thought about it a lot. and a couple weeks ago i was hanging out with my sister and a beautiful [3]thin friend of mine and i felt so fat and ugly. the thing is, i hate it when people associate fat with "ugly." i love the bumperstickers that read fat is not a four-letter word. so very true. why should it be that we aren't allowed to say "fat"? we aren't allowed to say "i am fat" as a good, or even non-negative term. it's always "no, you're not fat!" like, oh god, not that! the dreaded F-A-T! "you've lost weight!" is supposed to be a compliment. but what is wrong with being fat? or thin for that matter? what is the matter with reclaiming the words that oppress us, and force them to fit our needs? now if you're a woman you can say "bitch" or if you're queer you can say "fag" or black the "n" word. why not reclaim "fat"? there are people in the world who are fat goddamnit! there are also people who are hispanic and asian and black and brunette and tan and white and male and female and trans-gender and there are millions of different kinds of people. why take that away from us in an attempt to make us all the same? why can't we instead respect our differences? well, this turned more into a rant than i meant for it to, but this has been on my mind lately. instead of accepting your body by telling yourself "i am not fat!" why not try "i am fat and that's okay!"? ah heh. but i realize that that's easier said than done. i wish it wasn't. i think a lot of my body image bullshit comes from my mom... because she was fat when she had me and my sister and then she lost a lot of weight. and until recently when i talked to her about it, she always looked at pictures of back then and made comments about how fat she looked. in a negative way. and it made me think about how she's now thinner than i am, and how beautiful she is and always was to me. ~jennyrose I'm reading a memoir of anorexia and bulemia called Wasted and it's been an interesting ride. Makes me want to spill non-anonymously. She talks a lot in the book about how your family is the number one thing that affects your eating habits and such. My family is a prime example. My entire family with the possible exception of my older brother, is absolutely fixated on food. Both of my parents were 60 pounds overweight a few years ago, and my dad had a heart attack. They were constantly dieting and exercising before that to no avail. After the heart attack, though, they got "on the ball" and stuck to the Dean Ornish heart healthy diet, which is considered super-extreme and super-effective. They both lost tons of weight and are at healthy sizes, so now they've fixated on me. Little do they realize I fixated on myself long ago. I'm overweight. Not by much, I realize. I'm also not just complaining about somehting that's not true, I am overweight. I'll never be really really thin, that's my body type, but I have a tummy that is too much. Honestly. I've also got no self-control and weird eating habits since I was born. I'm vegetarian and picky, and about a year and a half ago, I got into the habit of making myself sick instead of crying when anything bad happened. I don't know if I have an eating disorder or not. The vomiting thing (which is super super occasional these days) is not really related to eating, or I've never thought it was. I occasionally can't eat for a day or two because food makes me sick. I occasionally eat way more than I should in a day. I try to eat healthy. All that's in my house is basically no fat. I'm addicted to caffiene. In any case, I eat weird. Food is a bigger and more complicated issue for me than I'd like it to be. I'd like to be the way I percieve almost everyone else I'm workin' on all those things. We'll see. (~Summer) Lately I've been having lots of negative thoughts about my body, and how I look and all that bullshit that society puts us through, and in a way, I truly think that I'm fat, but then I wake up. Everyone always says 'oh, you're such a little thing!' or 'oh, you're so skinny' and stuff like that, and it makes me feel good when they say that, which is scary, because I've always told myself that it doesn't matter what I weigh, or what I look like, or any of that, but now it does matter to me, quite a bit actually. The thing is, I don't want to miss out on stuff like barbeques, and s'mores and candy trips to walgreens with the neighborhood kids, and ice cream and stuff like that, but part of me screams whenever I eat anything. I feel guilty after eating, which is ridiculous, because I *know* that my body needs nourishment, but I just can't help it! I feel like it's the one thing that I can truly control, and that I truly have power over, even though my parents and friends and everyone are great, and non-controlling, I still feel helpless about a lot of stuff often. I know that I'm not fat, deep down, but there's that part of me, that little voice inside of me, that keeps telling me that I'm fat. It just makes me, I don't know.... I can't describe it, but there's this feeling when I get thinking like that that makes me feel worthless and rotten, and when I start thinking like that, it's incredibly hard to stop, and when I don't stop, I just start crying and crying... not even about my weight- just about life in general, and one thing leads to another, and I'm down for the rest of the day... Dammit, I haven't been wanting to eat lately, but the hunger pains come and I have to eat something. But then I get pissed off because there isn't anything to eat...except for really gross stuff like the dog's raw chicken. At least we have tuna. That's pretty much all I have been eating lately. I am going to develope gills. My not wanting to eat isn't related to BodyImage issues at all, it is because I am in love and for some reason eating is a hard thing to do when one's in love, euh newly so. Hmmm...is it like that with everyone? ~Erin
When I didn't eat, it was mostly a control issue. I didn't really think I was fat. I disliked my body, but I never really looked at myself in disgust. I've always viewed myself as lazy, and a little too self-indulgent, so it was a battle with myself more than anything. It felt good to be able to give something up, to pay for all the luxuries I get as a white rich kid, and the coddling I accepted from my parents, and all the times I tried to exercise self-control and it fell through. I started skipping meals in sixth grade. I never ate breakfast anyway, and at school my mother wasn't there to comment. I would eat only one serving of dinner, if I could manage it. I kept a calorie diary and cried or resolved to do better when I slipped up. I remember being particularly proud of myself one day when I'd eaten nothing but a can of tuna fish and a popsicle. I'm glad those days are over, and I haven't had problems with it since. I still sometimes think of myself as having no self-control, but I no longer use not eating to kill that guilt. I never got into it too deeply, and I was able to keep it from my parents indefinately. Ironically enough, it was my own lack of self-control that saved me from possibly getting into real trouble. Now I pride myself on eating well, but sometimes, I confess, I miss that feeling. - Naela God what a question to ask. Over all my relationship with food in the last few years (thank god) has been posative. I read an awesome little book called The Magick Of Food by Scott Cunningham, which just inspired me to think of food as a really beautiful connecting to the earth-touchy-feely-sort-of-way. But it hasnt always been that way... In my early teens i was really really really close to being anorexic. I had gotten tired and frustrated of looking the way i did. its. sigh. god this is probably the hardest thing for me to talk about. I thought i was fat, viewed myself as it, and felt that my father repeatadly told me as much. I realize my best intrests were only in mind, but that he even mentioned anything still upsets me to this day. I dont know how or why i got out okay, i just did. I remember this one spring on the farm when i was working, really really really hard. were talking i was 13 or 14 and doing physical labour 8-14 hours a day, and i would eat as little as i had to. Mostly what my mother made me.. it became a control thing. and then some time i just sort of stopped doing it so much, and went back to normal. I remember feeling guilty and angry for having to eat. God it's a scary world. But i think, like, im all right now. Im finally starting to get the fucking nerve to enjoy by body exactly the way it is, and not a single way different. Its hard and i still have days when i feel crappy about it. Ive finally stopped wearing over sized t-shirts, im even starting to wear tank tops and considering buying a bathing suit thats 2 piece[0]. maybe this sounds dumb but it feels like break through to me. with courage i sign my name, -Dawn a lot of times, I don't eat. there's nothing that interests me in the refridgerator. it's too early. it's too late. I just don't have the energy, the imagination, the enthousiasm necessary. the cramps and nausea go away... then I'm left feeling numb and empty, but not really very hungry at all. and I understand perfectly the perverse enjoyment gained from having people notice. all my friends know that I have a tiny appetite. it's enjoyable, to have someone shake their head in amazement and laugh about how little I eat. it's something uniquely me... some bit of disfunction, a little point of curiosity. sometimes, I feel like I'd be invisible, boring, if I didn't have these little defining points. appetite is just a mask, like everything else I take pride in. but a true one, just the same. ~becca~ I have always had a really strange relationship with sugar and chocolate. I'm quite sensitive to it, in that I know as soon as I've eaten too much with this blech feeling in my head and down to my stomach. And yet I am constantly overstepping that line because I keep craving that pleasent sensation in my mouth. When I talked about having eaten "too many cookies" in the past, some people thought it was a dieting sort of thing to say, and would give me strange looks and assure me I didn't need to be dieting. When I was eating with other people, especially boys, I'd find myself semi-consiously making a point of eating heartily and talking about how much I like to eat, to "show" that I had a healthy attitude about food (because I used to be very skinny.) One of my favorite things about exercising a lot (such as bike touring) is that I can eat a lot more before I feel full. Eating can be so fun and social and sensual when it's not the focus of all kinds of head trips and excessive cravings. in a way, I think everyone has an "eating disorder". I've never met anyone who eats only balanced meals, at the specific times they are supposed to eat them. I couldn't, at least. I've always had issues with my body, with my belly... but that doesn't necessarily translate into issues with food. I tend to view those seperately. I eat too much sugar, too much grease. I know this... but I don't think about it in terms of my body size or anything... just in general "must cut back" terms. I enjoy food, and tend to view it as something that's outside of my jeans' size. maybe that's denial... I dunno. it's just how I am. my BodyImage, on the other hand... ever since puberty, I've been incredibly aware of my body. comparing hips, breasts, blemishes, menses, pubic hair, belly.. all against popular cultural standards. it's not a pleasant pastime most of the time, but I can't help it. ~becca~ I have run the gammit of eating problems. When I was 12, I would skip meals and exercise a lot, so I was 4'11, and 79 lbs. It was really horrible when I went through puberty and I started to grow up and out. I could not deal with it. I ate, alot. One day I ate a whole pie. I laugh about it now, but it is still kinda sad. For awhile last year I was throwing up a lot...I was not bulemic, I was just really anxiety-ridden. I go back and forth between loving food and hating it. It isn't really food that I hate, it is my body. I like it when I have the control to not eat. Now I am dealing with the fact that I won't be little and thin. I know I should love my body, but I would love to be 120 lbs some days. Sometimes I am so weak I do eat, just to stop some of the pain. A lot of people find comfort in food. I think food is...one of those things that I have to get over my need for control over myself. -gennie food is an issue for me, and it's lame as could be. my friends would probably agree that i am a pretty normal size. but i have this control thing running through my head. i guess that's what it is. after i get so hungry, if i don't eat, i'm not hungry anymore. if i wasn't told that i look alright, and if i didn't know that i was perfectly healthy...and, honestly, call me shallow NOW because if i wasn't afraid of losing my breasts entirely...i would just stop eating all in all. no, i don't want to die...but...i dont even know if i should sign this, it's so lame. but truly...if it wasn't for all that, i would just be...light and airy. thin and pure, like a glass cup. music. pure as light. i would be just another bit of the breeze...somehow i feel like the less air space i take up, the happier i am. i know that's a bunch of crap. oh well i might as well admit to it, you all can laugh now, that's just me. love~samara This is an interesting thing for me to talk about, because I think about it all the time but haven't yet been able to put it into words without it sounding really stupid. Maybe it will anyway, but I don't really care right now. I guess I'll say that if there's one thing in my lifetime I want to resolve my issues about, it's food and my body. Because it's not like other things in that if you don't think about it, you don't have to deal with it. You get hungry every day, and you see yourself in the mirror every day, so it's hard not to deal with constantly. I regularly have not very pleasant feelings about both of those things, and it kills me. It really puts a damper on any sort of happy feelings. I have been thinking about all this for many years now, and trying all sorts of different things, and finally deciding that trying things in itself isn't going to change anything. I have been doing a lot better about it in only the past few days, better than I ever have in a long time. I think it's because my intention has shifted to wanting to feel happy and at peace about those things, and I think continuing to focus on that is the only way to change this stuff for the better. But I am still confused about this and I am fine with that for now. I will continue to be confused until I'm not anymore, and that will probably happen little by little. I just want to live my life and be happy and alive. -courtney i saw a girl today she smiled and laughed and was light as air i felt jealous but was happy to be around her she was so small and doll-like slim and trim and thin and lovely the girl was loved and lusted after by all then a friend vanished the smoke-screen from my eyes i saw a girl today she smiled and laughed but it was all a mask what i had mistaken for slimness was skeletal what i had thought was beauty was grotesque and yet she was still loved and lusted after i saw a girl today and i still wanted to be her ~Angel~A Dream I Had I will be thin I will be pretty I will be clear like glass I will only eat that which will burn My tongue My wrists my hipbones my jaw They will stick out like animal skulls My cheeks my waist my throat They will hollow out, Leaving my bones pale and Exposed If i learn that way My hands will fit in your's Perfectly I will be like i was At 10, 11, 12 My shoulder blades will stick out like bird wings I will dance Like a ballerina And drink pop Like a preteen I will not cry To cry To be human I will be a faery I will be immortal I will be thin And hence, tall I will be pretty And hence, loved I will be clear like glass And hence, unnoticed I will be happy like that I will be transparent Like a ghost Like a wing Like a faery Or an elf Like music I will not smile But you will be able to tell When i'm happy My lips will not part But you will know When i'm in love I will be perfect Like a doll Or a picture A movie star A marilyn monroe A audrey hepburn Manhatten Haight street Santa monica A palm tree Maybe Or A eucalyptus tree A weeping willow I will have full lips Narrow thighs Slender arms I will be clear And you will love me Like that. /~Kate/ just finished a really intense theatre course, which always sends my body issues through the roof anyway, and when it was all over we went out to dinner. that had to be the hardest meal of my life. even though I knew I could throw up later, I still felt Dirty every time I lifted food to my mouth and swallowed it into me, and I felt really judged by the other people there (totaly in my head, I do technically know that) every time I swallowed something I'd hear all these voices whispering "pig, cow, stupid, doesn't she Know how Fat she is? that's Disgusting" and if I met anyone's eyes I felt like they were accusing me. I've always had problems eating in public but this was really intense, and I had to sit in the washroom for ages making sure no-one I knew was in the other stalls when I threw up. it was awful. -Miranda I know I put a lot of stuff on here, and I hope erasing it all doesn't take away from the good stuff on this page. It's just that food struggles are not a part of my life anymore. Once I decided not to let eating (or not) be one of my problems, that part of me just faded away. I've eaten too little all my life, but I guess I still didn't get into it too deeply, because it was remarkably easy to let go. I'm doing well now, but I don't think of eating as a way to conquer my self-destruction anymore. Eating is just to stay healthy and alive, and that's it. I know that means that I can't relate to what many of you are saying anymore; I used to, but I'm not sorry that I can't relate. I'm lucky. For you. Remember that you are beautiful... because... you don't shine through your bodies. You shine through your eyes and ears and tongue and mind. The people who will stick around with you will realize that, and how you look will not matter to them. Poor comfort, I guess... I know the perfectionist instinct of wanting everything to be perfect for you... but I thought I'd write something here anyway.
Ok, here is what I have to say: Life consists of 7 levels. I won't go into detail on that. But baiscly, each level represents a different aspect of life. You can't reach a certain level, untill you master the levels under it(like, you can't experience the 7th level untill you master the first 6). Anyway, the first three floors deal with things such as discipline, commitment, weakness, sorrow, fear, and anything to do with your Basic Self(which takes care of the body, and instincts) and the Concious Self(which take care of the mind, and logic). So, once you can master and/or accept those things, which includes eating disorders, and worrying about how your body looks, you'll never be able to reach the higher levels, which contain love, happiness, spirit, etc. and anything to do with your Higher Self(which takes care of your spirituality). sigh it is time to fess up. i have had to deal with the pans saddenss shit and deprishons of anorexia. it all started when i was 10,11 and 12 i hated myself my life and my waight. so cut back on food. it is veary hard saying this but i still have days when i eat nouthing i really want to stop anorexic cuz it fucking well sucks... so PLEAS if you need to talk come to my open arms i'm sorry you had to find out abount this this way... i now sing my name Heather calluna at nbtsc.org --- wish i could lose weight, everyone says im skinny but its all a lie, i dress to look like it, pile on the makeup......i sort of like how i look, really, but if only i wasnt so FAT....it ruins everything......saggy cheeks and chin...and eyes....i did 300 flights of stairs today...had a 180cals cereal bar for breakfast..... im in pretty good control of my eating, but i really need to get off my fat ass....next goal 350 flights.....then 400... and 500!it gets easier everyday...... i dont wanna be sickly thin, just skinny like i used to be...
--- I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems to me. But I hate my weight. I can pretend that I'm fine with it . . . but I'm not. And people telling me that my weight is fine doesn't help because all I do is look around and see everyone who weighs less than me. And the insane thing is that I can tell myself a hundred times over that weight doesn't matter, it has no pertinence to my worth as a person and yet I'll still sit there and look at a plate of pizza or something and just imagine what will happen inside my body if I eat it. And while I don't skip meals purposely, at the end of the day, sometimes I'll just realize that I haven't eaten and you know what? I'll feel good about myself for it. Feeling good for not eating. That's awful. There's no way in hell I can let myself become anorexic or bulemic or whatever. And at the same time, there's that little voice that sits in my mind that is constantly poking me and jeering, "you know, if you only did it for a little while, you could slim down and get prettier you know." And I can tell myself that it's stupid and pointless, that it's not just for a little while, it would become addictive. And I'd still think it. Because somehow, I've been warped to think that way. Why do I base self worth and how pretty I am upon 1. My weight and 2. how guys see me? Or girls too, really... I'm strong. I really am. I know that I am. I'm strong enough to smile anyway but if you see me smiling for a long period of time, at least part of it is pretty fake because I'm thinking "oh look. she's so small and beautiful." And I want to look like her more than anything else in the whole world. I don't want the hollywood anorexia look but yet I do. Because somewhere in my mind, something says if I look like that, I'll be happy. Sometime's all I can think about is my weight. And how much there is of me. I want to be to delicate...No, not delicate. I want to be a healthy size, I want to still be strong. But at the same time, I want to be able to not go looking at clothes racks and not have to always look for the green tags that mean extra large which makes me break inside every time, because they seem to only confirm the fact that I am extra large. I just want to break all the way sometimes. okay. I posted the above a few days ago and left my name off. And I guess, looking at it now, there's no real reason not to add my name. If someone really wanted to know who it was, they could trace the number. But here. It's me. Yeah, I don't think too highly of myself most of the time. But I'll deal. ~Jasmine, hitting "save" with a sigh. I used to torment myself endlessly about my weight. When I was much younger (nine or so), my parents started bothering me about my weight. I was slightly overweight. But they didn't say 'overweight', which for some reason sounds less-harsh to my ear. They said I was 'fat'. They said I needed to be on a diet. When I was nine, it didn't really bother me. I don't know why... it didn't seem to be me, in my mind, that they were talking about. There was this other Katherine that was fat in their mind, but it wasn't me. I distanced myself from what I ate. It tasted good, and that was what I cared about, but it didn't seem to register that I was the one eating it. It's hard to decribe this sort of thing. My parents tried all sorts of things, from just bugging me about it occasionally to keeping a log of everything I ate and then making me read it at the end of the day. It didn't bother me at the time. I was still sort of detached from the whole eating process. When I was eleven, it started to bother me a bit. I would go to my friend's houses, and I would eat dinner with them, and afterwards I would still be hungry. I started to feel guilty for eating so much, for taking up food that could go elsewhere to feed hungrier people. At school, I was teased. I was on the low rung of the popularity ladder. I was called names, spit on, had my stuff stolen or vandalized, you name it. But the things my classmates said to me that hit home were the fat jokes. I was a fat cow, they said. I was so fat that I couldn't wear the right clothes without looking like a freak. If it were just at school, I could have dealt with it. But when I came home from school, seeking sanctuary, my father would torment me a bit. Not quite in a mean way, but in a prodding way, like he was hoping that if he just bugged me about it enough then I'd lose weight. So it was everywhere. I couldn't get away from the critisism. Even when no one was saying anything, I would know what they thought, from the looks on their faces. Even neutral looks were starting to become threatening. When I was twelve, my father suggested that I attend a week-long program to help me "learn how to eat and exercise correctly". My mind started screaming "Fat camp! Fat camp! He's taking you to a fat camp!!". It wasn't quite a fat camp, but that was it for me at the time. I dove into depression during the fall, and by winter I was contemplating suicide. I would get knives out and stare at them. I would go for long walks in pouring rain and freezing cold, trying to figure out how to just escape from everything. Long story short, I fessed up to a friend, who told a guidance counselor, who told my mother, who took me to a shrink, who I lied to and got out of seeing when I was still quite depressed, and then I took a social hiatus for about a year and figured out why, why it bothered me that I was overweight, why it bothered me that everyone knew and had their opinions on what I should weigh, why I thought I should diet and fast and exercise and loose my excess weight. And I finally found that it didn't really matter. My health wasn't at risk, and my appearence didn't concerm anyone but me. Why the hell should I kill myself over other people's opinions? Why should I mess myself up for the sake of looking good to everyone else if I would feel ugly inside? It just sort of happened. I just sort of decided that I'd had enough of listening to other people telling me how to live. And I stopped listening to the fat jokes, hearing them but not really listening. And my father finally quit the nagging about my weight, because I just wouldn't listen to him anymore. I wouldn't disscuss it. I've lost the weight, but not through much effort on my part. I got sick last year around this time, and my appetite has been screwy ever since. I don't eat much, which scares some people, including me. This is not to say I'm totally secure in my apperence and weight. I'm nowhere near that. My grandmother compliments me on losing weight and being slender every time she sees me. It makes me somewhat uncomfortable. I don't want to be complimented on that. I don't want anyone to bring it up at all. It brings back bad memories, it's awkward, and it makes me feel that if I ever gain weight then I'll be a failure. *sigh* Why does society think that being thin and slender is something desirable? I've never understood that. I'm not sure I want to. This probably hasn't been of any help to anyone, except perhaps me (first time I've ever told the whole story to anyone). So, if you're reading this, thanks for letting me waste space and ramble on. -Katherine
Hooo-kay. I have never had an eating disorder, but i do sometimes go without eating for a while. It's just what my body has to do. Like cleansing or something. It kept me from getting sick once. The idear that we MUST stuff ourselves with food, every day is not healthy either. And i gotta say, you guys have incredible bodies! I mean, you're so beautifull and swift and bouncy and strong and gracefull and stuff...i mean YOU, who's reading this...when you're not thinking about it, you're beautifull. 'cause that's what bodies are. "I've never seen a body i didn't like..." i wondre if anyone wondres if I hate my body sometimes. 'Cause I never really thought you hated yours. sometimes. ~Wind P.S. And Damme! I mean, some of you who wrote on here, you ARE what you are describing you want to be. Am I? Does it mattre? Do you even know that our ideals are the same, feathery and windy selves, and you've acheived them ? Isn't it weird how it's only girls posting on this page? Oh, the neurosis. I never ever can tell how I'm going to feel about food on a specific day. I live in a family of hyper-thin people. Or, hyper in shape. My mother is a dancer and a choreographer, so in shape it makes me crazy, and she's been talking about her looks and weight since I was old enough to develop any kind of response. The question "Am I fat?" was a part of my life when I was five. I didn't, of course, care for it until I turned about 10. One of my mother's boyfriends had kids. That whole family lived with us for a few years, and so I played with the youngest daughter Phaedra, a gymnast. We were still young enough that our parents put us in the tub together and that's when Phaedra began to pick on me for being fat. And I was a pudgy child. years have passed and I've even heard stories of people "not understanding how someone as thin as Willie could have such a plump little thing." Well, at least my grandmother loved me for it... Anyway, one thing led to another, and I eventually learned the art of food deprivation. By the time I turned twelve, the fact that I had once been capable of eating an entire hamburger and follow it with dessert made me positively sick. I grew my hair out and swore never to get the haircut I had as a kid, thinking that would make me fat (weird, eh?). Had I not gotten Lyme disease for a summer and dropped twenty pounds, I probably would've gone full-blown anorexic; for now, I have remained borderline, and have never even ventured into bullimia, though I've thought about it a lot. I hat to work out, so eating little amounts is sort of what I have to depend on. Lately I've been trying to get in shape so that this newly curvy body is slightly harder than its current state. God, sometimes I hate image. I can't picture myself as anything else but very thin and if I ever gain a lot of weight, I'm terrified I'll turn suicidal or something. Blargh. ~Maggie
Food's yummay. Oh baby, if you only knew I'm down to 102 Oh baby if you only knew I don't know what to do I had a hole in my heart So I threw away my plate 'Cause nothing filled me up No matter what I ate I'm wasting away, its true I hate myself And I love you Oh babe if you only knew Whenever I think I think of you Oh babe if you only knew Feed me, I'm hungry Oh babe, I'm hungry... --Feed Me, Julianna Hatfield Dude, I just started working at a café last week, and this place has the best pies. They're wonderful. Really. I'm sirius. Sirius Black.[4] Ahem. Mmm, I love those blueberry muffins at the food place next to the cinema. They're the best, so nice and fluffy and sugary. Lovely. ~Eire [0] Yay Dawn! I'm a big fan of the two piece. Feel the water and sun on your belly... [1] [1] Hehe, I don't know who wrote that above *points up* but I totally agree. I don't think there's a stomach that doesn't look right either. The great thing about bellies is that they can be full and earthy, or flat and narrow, and they look good either way :) -wanderlust the urban pixie [2] sorry that setup is so screwy; when i try to do it with just one enter between each line it sets it up as if i'd never entered it in the first place. if someone finds it so annoying/is such a perfectionist/has enough patience to fix it, pleeease do! [3] beautiful, not to associate that with thin. she is beautiful inwardly and outwardly, and she happens to be thin. she is natural and graceful in her body. it suits her. i dont want to be thin, but society sticks these fucked up images in our heads... well you know. [4] Diana Wynne Jones? NBTSWikiWiki | Recent Changes Edited 108 times, last edited on March 29, 2002 by 142.59.83.107. © 2000 NBTSC Webmasters |
p.s. I really mean it when I say the best.
