The day in the life of Anorexic me...

Take off your necklace.

Now your rings.

Glasses.

Bracelets.

Hair ties.

And fitbit.

Pull your t-shirt over your head.

And your pants below your knees.

Hold your breath. 

Step on the scales.

Off.

And on again.

Grab your phone.

Sit in front of the heater.

Naked.

Taking in and scrutinising every inch of your body.

Document the number.

And do the math.

BMI.

And 'total loss'.

Kilos.

And pounds.

Stand up.

Wrap your hand around your wrist.

Your upper arm.

Your thigh.

Suck in.

Let it all 'hang loose'

And in again.

Look in the mirror. 

What do you see?

I see fat.

I see bones.

Run your fingers across your ribs.

Hip bones.

And collar bone.

Like ivory keys on a piano.

Delicate and soft not to bruise.

I see a self worth based on numbers going up 

And plummeting down again.

I see control.

I see self loathing.

And self love.

I see soul crushing anxiety

And heart penetrating elation.

Breathe life into a lifeless body.

Give me purpose. 

And a goal. 

Give me an A* for perfection.

Give me an A* for the best listening skills.

Give me an A* for being the best student.

Give me an A* for Anorexia.

The numbers are down again at first 100g. 

Then a further 200g. 

And now another 100g. 

400g today. 

Total loss of 7.7kg. 

16.94lb.

2.4 off my BMI. 

In less then a month.

1kg since Monday. 

2.2lb.

I would say this is a true measure of success. 

The numbers hold the strings to my self worth.

A twang either way could send me shooting high.

Or crumbling low.

I've induced 83calories today.

And it's 6.00pm.

489calories planned for the remainder of the day.

Not to mention the ruminated purging to follow.

Tonight not much will flow. 

Pasta my foe! 

Carbs a pain in the ass to the rid the body mind and soul.

The hot water bellowing over me.

Steam clouding around my feet. 

Blood pressure dropping.

And heart rate rising. 

Blood pooling in your ears.

Did anyone hear me?

Is tonight the night I'll be caught with two fingers thrust deep down my throat?

Bend down to refit the drain.

The A* plumber you would make!

To hide the demon and stuff them deep down inside those pipes.

My only prayers for tonight?

Please drain don't block!

Wait until 8pm.

Then slide out to your room.

Untuck the sheets and pop the pills.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

And 6

Then add another pink capsular about 4cm long.

Break it in half.

Now grab the prescribed pills.

The anti depressants.

The mood stabilisers. 

And the sleeping aid.

Swallow the tiny pink pill the size of a peppercorn.

No water of course!

And dissolve the other one on your tongue.

Let it fizzle as you grab your last white capsual.

And slip back inside.

Smile and make small talk something about "ugh it's so cold out there" 

Or "I need to fill another script"

Your decoy to swallow your ever needed laxatives and diet pills with a mouthful of juice.

9pm comes around and you fall into a restless sleep.

Dreaming of food.

Of toothpaste.

Perhaps it is more alikened to that of a nightmare.

Tossing and turning.

Stomach churning.

Mind racing.

I should be moving. 

Burning more calories.

Not trying to gain some ever needed shut eye.

To reduce the exhaustion 

And fatigue.

Did I really just do that? 

Wake in the morning sweat pooling.

Blankets on the ground.

Relief it was just a concoction of the mind.

Run your hand along your stomach taking in the size of your body.

Did it shrink overnight?

Or did it grow!

Relieve yourself in the toilet 

Flush.

Now to 'eat' your breakfast. 

When secretly you leave a bread crumb trail. 

Like Hansel and Gretal I've been lead down the windy path of Anorexia to the candy castle of numbers. 

And let the ritual of weighing, exercising, counting and distracting appointments begin.

Let lies lubricate your tongue.

And glassy eyes conceal the truth.

Pray to God that they won't lock you away and throw the key away today. 

A double life

Leading a double life

The title says it all. I'm leading what feels like a double life. Each juxtapose the other.

On the one hand I am trying to be bright for my family. 

Trying to smile. 

Trying to compose myself. 

Trying to show them I'm happier. 

I'm healthier.

I'm eating more.

And applying for jobs.

This life seems to be the facade.

Then my team see the other side of me. 

The real side.

The side that struggles to eat 

And even more so struggles to keep her fluid intake up.

Struggles to stop exercising.

Stop weighing.

Struggles to sleep.

And be happy. 

They see the side that can not be hidden.

The obvious weight loss. 

And the obvious physical side effects the toll my anorexia is taking on my body. 

My 'dangerous' iron deficiency.

My postural drop.

And my tachycardia.

But still I try to show them I'm the person I show my parents. 

Try to fool myself more so then anyone else.

Apparently the numbers don't lie however.

The lovely gp rang me this morning to wish me luck today, 

Make sure I was going and urged me to have something to eat and drink before I go so I don't collapse. As she put it. 

She reminded me and I wonder if this was more the meaning behind this unexpected call that she has a duty of care to me and I am at risk of cardiac arrest. 

She's waiting to hear back from my psychiatrist on guidance as what to do. 

She doesn't want to put me in hospital although physically she has every right to evoke her authority over me and she knows I should be there to be medically stabilised.

If I die ultimately they do not blame the victim they blame the person that knew and should of acted but did not. 

They do not blame the manufacturer of the bullet they blame the finger that pulled the trigger.

I had my interview.

It went rather smoothly considering.

I did take my seroquel before I went in so the butterfly's were in my tummy but my mind was subdued and only wanting sleep lol.

They asked generally questions and then behavioural questions where they ask a question and you have to describe a scenario and the outcome.

Then we had a role play phone call. Let's just say drama is not my strong point.

And then a tour of the office overlooking the picturesque waterfront. Oh man it was like something out of a movie I can see myself becoming a workaholic.

I find out if I get the job tomorrow. If I do I start next Wednesday. 

What will I do with my endless Appointment? What will I do with my medication that's going to cost an arm and a leg?

Back to my gp to reception to get that darned $130 pathology bill sorted. The receptionist looked at me blankly asking what I wanted her to do. She rang me gp, who came out to see me. She told me I looked gorgeous! Then proceeded to scold me about my intake. Again asking what I wanted her to do. I said nothing. Her argument was looking at my observations if I collapse she's in the shit. So I told her to delete them. She said she couldn't now they were entered into the system. I told her to trust me. She told me she didn't. She also said she's going to talk to Peter this arvo because she hasn't caught him yet argh. It's now past 4pm though so I doubt anything'll happen in the next hour.

How can I be functioning attending interviews getting up in the morning getting dressed doing my make up, you know all that adult stuff, and STILL be in 'danger' like it just doesn't add up. I can't wrap my little head around it. Too tired to try.

I'll let you know if she calls. And I'll let you know tomorrow if I've got the job

Also my weights down again 400g (total 7.3kg 16.06lb 2.4 off my bmi!) this is all within less then a month!

Xx much love to my non-existent readers bec

20%

It's been a while I get on top of my blog and then the shit storm that is my life gets on top of me.

It's utterly exhausting. There is not a moments peace in my life. Everything has a place a way and a time to be done. 

I started applying for jobs because my dad told me too, and I agree it's the only guarantor I have at moving out. At regaining my independence. But more importantly to me my control!

But that too is tiresome. I fear my pension will be cut I don't so much care about the money as much as I do about the government benefits, the only 'benefit' that matters to me is my medication! It literally costs about $170au. And I pay roughly half that as is. A job will give me an additional $200. So no job will cater for a life because my sanity hinges on these meds. How unfortunate my life morals have become. 

Any who I have an interview tomorrow. I had a phone interview today and she requested I have a face-to-face one tomorrow. I am in two minds about this 1)anxious and excited 2)apathetic and distant. 

I saw my councillor this morning. I don't know why I see her we talk about menial things. Today's topic of discussion was hobbies which I have none of or rather sporadic ones when I have the zeal for life. She asked if there was much point to seeing her with everyone else I said there was but really there isn't. She gives me 1hr every three weeks to take my mind off the merry-go-round in my head. I feel an end drawing near. 

I asked for my gp to leave a script at reception for me. Again for two reasons 1)she had no spare appointments and 2)I didn't want to see her. The reception ladies told me to take a seat she'd be out soon. I blurted "I don't want to talk to her!" Which ended with everyone laughing at me and me feeling rather childlike. She came out and I hopped she'd send me on my way saying this was the last time she could get the authority or something of the sort. Instead she asked me to follow her to her office. Heart in throat I followed like Mary's lamb. Tethered to her by her compassionate personality. She asked things like "How's your intake?"

"The same"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing I didn't ask to talk to you I just asked for a script"

"Can you step on the scales?"

"NO" We mutually agreed about 10mths ago noone in the medical industry would weigh me and now she threatened to renege and show me for the true blimp I am. To have such a number scrawled on my chart is just a mortifying thought

"Well how much have you lost?"

"6.7kilos"

"In how long?"

"I lost track"

"How often do you weigh yourself?" 

"14 times give or take"

"I can't imagine it'd change much in a day. It's obsessive"

"I guess, but I have to"

"I take it you don't want to go to hospital" -half question half statement

"NO"

"Right, come over here and let me get your bp"

Well I went over there with quite the bravo confident my body has adapted to the years of starvation. My bp dropped A LOT and my hr already tachycardic when I sat jumped A LOT when I stood. At her wits end she gave me no choice and said she was going to contact my psychiatrist. She wants me in hospital and she has all the evidence in front of her to do so. But she doesn't want to traumatise me. So she's looking for guidance from him she's half heartedly praying he steps up to the plate but we both know he'll do nothing, which I quite openly express my gratitude for.

Can't wait to see her next week! Haha sometimes I make myself laugh

Also I saw the gastroenterologist she's orders a gastroscopy and an iron infusion. I handed the forms in the other day although I adamantly did NOT want the iron infusion. After my run in with the lovely gp I went to the hospital and reneged which and some of the anxiety.

Maybe she's right? Maybe I will die...

"It is a man's mind not his enemy or foe that leads him to evil ways" -Buddah

I'm 6.3kg (13.86lb) down.

2.0 off my bmi.

716 calories in.

And countless out.

I'm purging.

I'm abusing laxatives.

I'm restricting.

I'm using diet pills with DNP.

I'm exercising.

I'm lying.

And according to my doctor, dying is a very real prospect for me at the moment. My kidneys could pack up at any minute.

My vitals are dropping.

My bp is low.

My hr is high.

And my iron is dangerously low.

She wants me admitted to hospital but she won't force me it's a bandaid fix and it's traumatising. And I couldn't agree more.

She wants me to make healthy decisions for where my life is headed.

But I can't.

I'm just not rational anymore.

I don't know where to begin.

Or, even if I want to!

She's exhausted.

And I'm drained.

I'm trying to get some semblance of a life.

I'm looking for a job.

I enrolled in school.

And I'm house hunting.

It's conflicting and, I'm confused.

I don't know what I want or where I'm headed.

Tomorrow is the fun appt with the gastroenterologist.

Waste of money as my reflux is now coupled with intentional purging (thanks for triggering my old demons).

To my family I'm getting it together.

To the professionals I'm falling apart.

And to me? I'm going through the motions feeling nothing and doing/saying what society deems socially acceptable.

I feel like a zombie.

I feel possessed.

"It is a man's mind not his enemy or foe that leads him to evil ways" -Buddah

Lone soldier

Superhuman.

That's how I feel.

Weightless.

Euphoric.

Able to do anything.

Ready to take on the world one handed. 

Left handed (no offence to you guys your still pretty rad in my eyes ;D ).

I'm knee deep in and half the time I don't even realise it. 

I'm too preoccupied counting how many kilometres I've covered in the day.

How many calories I will have to ingest (and inevitably how many will be left when I expell it)?

When I can weigh next?

How much weight I've lost in the last 10 days?

How much I'll lose tomorrow morning.

How my clothes fit.

Do I look fat?

When I can get on the bike next?

If anyone can see me.

If I'm functioning on all cylinders and fulfilling my requirements to be a successful human being (or what I consider successful). 

When I can have my first and ONLY DRINK (I'm talking water guys!). 

Yeah you get the picture. 

Fun times I'm sure

...not.

But I push myself beyond my boundaries. 

Beyond my limits.

I push myself into the netherworld.

I suffer the consequences.

Light headedness.

Fatigue.

Lethargy.

I push because I'm still functioning.

I'm doing my art.

I applied for school (and won a book voucher for $100 today to go towards text books next year- I haven't even been excepted into the course yet!).

I'm exercising (excessively, but that's what I used to do and it makes me feel so much better. Powerful). 

I'm getting up in the morning and getting out in the day. 

These things make me happy.

I'm not depressed so, I must be well.

Right?

Well my bloods came back today. And low and behold I'm iron deficient again. My Dr rang me "Hi Bec how are you?"

"I'm good. I'm fine!"

"Right (sarcasm). Now the formalities are over. Your bloods came back your iron deficient"

"I'm ok. I'm fine!" 

"Right, look I have to tell you this its my job"

"Uh-uh" 

"You should get some iron tablets and bring your levels up they are dangerously low and I know how that feels I've been this deficient before. Back in May they were 16, normal is between 7-30 yours are 4! And it also tests your iron stores normal is between 8-200 again, yours are 4! That would contribute to your shortness of breath and your tiredness."

"Thanks but I'd rather not" 

"Well you could eat red meat. But I'm pretty sure I know your answer"

"No! It's not happening. I'm fine. I'm ok. I'm functioning. I'm performing."

"Well the other option I'd highly recommend is an iron infusion but again I think I know your answer" 

"Thanks but no I'm ok. I'm fine!" 

"Well I'll write in the comments I informed you" 

"Ok" 

*hangs up*

I then panicked because I know she had a copy sent to my consultant AN psychiatrist. He's the one who can make shit happen! So I cancelled my appt with my gp for next week. She can't see me she can't monitor me. Right? I'm thinking logically aren't I!? I can't handle seeing her. Hearing her disappointment. Being unable to look at her. Completely shutting down. I feel like a little kid. I have NEVER cancelled on her in 4 years! I also took the liberty of cancelling my case manager appt on Thursday. There are a few more cabs left on the rank to cancel

1. Gastroenterologist

2. Holter monitor

3. Consultant psychiatrist (but I'm going to have to keep that one unfortunately the appt is tomorrow and I can't cancel. It'll cost me a fortune I might as well pay the fortune and hear him tell me what I already know, or maybe I shouldn't maybe he'll section me for being 'neglectful' to my body- as my councillor would say).

I already cancelled the dietician. 

So instead I will continue to disappear.

I will become invisible once again, the way I like it. 

I will be a lone soldier.