My name is Anna. I am lost.
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Nobody knows how fucked up I really am. Sometime people get tiny glimpses of it, but I quickly cover it up. I want to be broken, I want to be weightless, I want to be nothing.
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My life is a web of lies, so many hidden things, so many secrets. Nobody has truely seen who I am, and nobody ever will.
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I want to be bones, I want to be a walking skeleton, I want to walk on snow and not break through, I want to be small.
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Fuck recovery. Fuck all this bullshit. I gained the weight, I’m eating what they want like their little puppet, But all the thoughts are still there….. I now am not only ugly, but I am ugly and fat. And my eating is spiraling out of control. I have been eating around 2500 calories and it has got to stop. Binging is making me hate myself. I dont want to even talk about the bloating. Tomorrow its all going to change. I will be strong. And get small. Fuck.
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I am 5’9.
It started in grade 8. I felt fat after christmas. 124. Basketball, Dance, Swim, Gymnastics. 120. Became vegitarian. 118. Started restricting. 115. Went to germany 113. Went to my cottage. 112. Living off of salad. 110. Camp. Even salad dressing became too much. So all I ate was salad with salt. 106. Got home. Forced to gain weight. 111. Fall came. 110. Started restricting before halloween. 106. November. 104. Started to realize I needed to recover. 115. Easter. 118. Birthday. 121. Summer. 129. Started modeling and felt fat. 127. Started running. 125. Went to 1 week camp, nothing but fruit and salad. 122. Went to 2 week camp. Tons of excersize. Barely any food. Councelors told me they had never seen anyone eat so little. Home. 116. Started recovery with hospital program. 118. 120. 122. 124. 126. 129. 132. Got my periods back. Current. 134.
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About me
I am obsessed with bones. I could stare at pictures of models for hours. I am a perfectionist. I have anxiety. I love finding beautiful blogs. I find it hard to be myself. Eating is weak. I am strong. I need to recover. Flowers are nice. So are owls. I like frozen cherries. My best friend screwed me over. My mind is lost. Empty is pure, I will get better.
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Bones, Bones, Bones. There is something so beautiful about bones. I have a bit of an obsession with bones. I wish you would see all my bones. I wish they portruded enough that you could count them. When I used to be just bones what I did to find them was killing me. They made me stop being able to find my bones. They made me do things to make those bones dissapear. But I want them back. I want those bones back more then anything. When I had my bones I may have been cold, tired, and sick. I may even have been close to death. But those bones are truely the only things that make me happy.
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I was much happier when I fit into child size jeans then I am now.
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Each calorie I consume, Every bite of food I swallow, My mind screams at me. Tells me i’m worthless, fat, discusting. I cant handle it.
