“There are many things in your heart you can never tell to another person. They are you, your private joys and sorrows, and you can never tell them. You cheapen yourself, the inside of yourself, when you tell them.” -- Greta Garbo

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


Height: 5'1"
Current: 109 lbs
Highest: 130 lbs
Lowest: 108.5 lbs
Short-term goal: 105 lbs
Long-term goal: 100 lbs

So, after a couple weeks of reading ana/mia blogs, I've gotten my own. I started restricting at the end of March when I weighed 115 lbs. I don't really know if I would be termed ana (definately not mia). I currently eat about 1000-600 calories a day, I calorie count, I weigh myself daily, and I do some of the food-secrecy skillz. But I don't really share the complete fixation on food full ed-sufferers's have. I mean, obviously I can tell when I'm hungry and I have hunger pains, but I don't really obsess about how I'm going to eat something, or have strict plans about what I'll eat, or let food dominate my emotions, etc. Somehow it doesn't seem as hard to just not eat. But it may just be that I'm replacing one bad behavior for another.

I have a (very secret) history of obsessive-compulsive behaviors -- hoarding, a brief spurt of cutting, scalp mutilation (I don't have any other term for it...), and recently the most overwhelming was CSP or dermatillomania or simply skin picking. Until a few days ago, I didn't know that there was an actual term for how I would, dozens of times per day, get up, sit in front of my mirror, inspect every single pore on my face, and absolutly mutilate my skin by picking at blemishes that would have healed fine if left alone. For the last few months, though, I have been trying to stop this behavior. However, I think that as I started leaving my skin alone, I still needed an outlet for my ocd/control-obsessed tendencies.

And I think that might be why I'm so set on controlling my eating to a minimum. I've never been obese or anything, but I was pretty fat at one point. It was probably a result of puberty, but when I was 11-12 and started gaining a crapload of weight and I wore a 9 (a 9 ffs) when my mother wore a 4 -- I began having so much hatred for my body and how huge I was, in addition to my family being dysfunctional and unreliable (another source of control anxiety).

Blargl. Depressing. Right now, I'm not as screwed up and depressed as I was. I'm a loner, but I've learned to love being alone. I'm intelligent, and I respect myself. I'm not fat (even if I feel like it at times) and I'm not ass-ugly, even cute. My thighs might make lightning with their thunder (LAME JOKE LOL), but my clavicle and ribs are visible without being skeletal. I still want thinner legs, though. They're short as it is (like, 29-inch inseam), so I don't need any unnecessay inches making them even more dissproportionate.

Today, I had --
Homemade frozen yogurt (1/2 cup plain fat-free yogurt, 1 banana mushed, and a dash of grapefruit juice)
Large granola bar
2 small granola bars
Diet coke, water, iced tea.
Total: 679

Today was a very low-cal day. Because yesterday the scale said 108.5 and when I got on it this morning it said 110-109 until I went to the bathroom. Probably cheating, but w/e. I've been sort of platuea-ing recently so I may go over 1000 tomorrow or in a couple days to psyche my metabolism out.

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