This is my very first post- we'll see how this goes.I've been browsing through "Pro Ana" blogs on the web for several months now and decided that I'd finally seen and read enough to create my own. I figure that the war against repugnance can only be won with the support of the "Ana Soldiers" out there. Maybe, just maybe, my struggles can help others. We can all defeat the beast our stomachs wish us to be and become the beautiful bones we have the potential to be together.
550... That's how many calories I've already consumed. Swallowed. Absorbed. It's not quite evening yet. I haven't even survived my post-dinner cravings. 550... I would purge, but I lack a gag reflex. I've tried too many times. I once spent two whole hours hunched over the toilet, after plowing my way through over a thousand calories, with two fingers shoved as far down my throat as they would go. 550... An apple for breakfast (to prevent me from passing out during gym class), two tablespoons of peanut-butter, a packet of oatmeal, half an ounce of almonds, and a few baby carrots are currently sloshing in my stomach. This is just a mere glimpse of my failure over the course of the weekend. As I scroll through images of fragile, delicate women I cannot help but think, "148 pounds, 550 calories, 36 inches... 110 pounds, 0 calories, 26 inches..." The difference is just heartbreaking. I've lost count of my consecutive failures. 3500 calories to a pound and 4 pounds to an inch.
I fear that the numbers floating weightlessly in my mind may have drifted to the minds of my parents. Yesterday I declared my veganism, just a few short days after Ana suggested it. My father has been dogging me about my weight loss for weeks now, but my mother even brought it up. "I'm okay with it, as long as I see you eating. If I don't see you eating, your father and I are going to have to force you to eat meat." She said it as if she thought I could help it, as if I were choosing to be vegan. I simply replied exasperatedly, "I know Mother. Why would I stop eating?" She doesn't understand, of course, that it's not a choice. "I must. It's the closest I can come to perfection, the closest I can come to God."
Worse yet, my best friend and her parents have noticed. Two weekends ago my two best friends (We'll say... Kendra and Brycen) went out for Kendra's birthday. At dinner I ordered a small house salad. I picked at it once we received our food, trying to conceal my trembling hands. Brycen mentioned how I'd hardly touched my food and I said, "I've eaten so much candy from Halloween. I'm not even remotely hungry." It wasn't a lie, not completely anyway. I had eaten candy, but I was starving. Then Kendra said, "You need to eat *skinnyXdreams*. My parents seriously think you're anorexic." I just laughed it off and mumbled, "I'm not anorexic. I'm not even skinny." It was nonchalant and quickly forgotten. But yesterday I was cross legged on her couch and she suggested we bake cookies. I agreed enthusiastically (I love baking), but told her I was trying out a new vegan diet and wouldn't be able to eat any dough or anything. She narrowed her eyes and glared at me. "You would tell me if you were anorexic right?" I nodded vigorously and tried to smile. "Of course! I tell you everything!"
I hate lying to her, but she wouldn't understand.
Stay strong little soldiers. Show no signs of weakness.
skinnyXdreams
