31 December 2009


I really cannot wait to get back to school so I can restrict again. I'm tired of having to eat the way she wants me to. I'm getting fat as shit.
I'm also incredibly cranky. All of my friends were drinking last night, and I know for a fact that a few of them drove. W was one of them. He also happpened to be driving around with this one girl who I don't care for, and she automatically becomes a slut when she's drunk. So, I was worried that a) W was eother going to get in some horrible wreck, or getting a DUI or b)hooking up with Drunken Slut. In my heart I knew he wouldn't do anything with her, because I really think that he's better than that. Or at least, I'd like to think that. I couldn't sleep. He called me at about to wish me a happy New Year. I told him it was the New Year yet. I went to bed after that. Halfway Relieved.

29 December 2009

A Night In The Life.

Tonight was a mixture between absolutely horrible and absolutely amazing. We started out by getting sushi, where I had a small binge. I wolfed down six California rolls, and four salad rolls (just over five hundred). I was so embarrassed. We smoked hookah after, which burns calories 200 for about an hour. Thank god. It was freezing cold, even under a blanket. W and I shared it and were more or less one body for about an hour. He'd do everything to try and keep me warm; he's so so sweet. After we went to another friends to get in his hot tub. I hadnt shaved in a while. And I'm also fat as hell. W said I looked beautiful and told me I shouldnt be embarrassed.
I didnt break 1000 today.
I'm hungry; It's wonderful.
Love you always,

Blog Title Change.

Her Lovely Bones. My friend opened my laptop to it today, and she read the name, and asked me about it. She didn't see the url. So I had to change it, in case she got curious.


Thank you, holidays, birthdays and various and sundry money-sucking events for emptying my already half-empty wallet. The best part- I still have three birthdays left to get gifts for. And to eat cake for. Dammit, why do we even celebrate birthdays?!

28 December 2009

Baby, You Wouldn't Last A Minute.

Last night, I had a friend complain about being fat. She pinched the gooey deposit on my hip, and said, "God, how do you do that? How are you so little?" I wanted to hit her, I wanted to scream, but I just laughed awkwardly, and said, "It's just stress."
I'm scared that I'm not going to be able to start restricting once I get back to school. I'm scared that I'm going to always be this way, that I'm always going be fat.

27 December 2009

Almost Over

2009 is almost over, and I'm still fat as fuck.
I look disgusting, and I feel disgusting.

26 December 2009

One Hundred.

It's my one hundreth post. Damn.
Anyways. I had a really shitty eating day today. Yesterday was better, suprisingly.
I somehow managed to restrict all day yesterday, due to my mother's ditraction for the majority of the day. My friends and I had a Christmukkah party. We all got together and had a lovely time and no one commented on my eating, or lack there of. It was so nice to feel someone's arms pressed into your ribs, his hand over your protruding vertabrae in the small of you back. I know it's too early to tell, but I think I might have found something good. Hopefully, maybe, might have found something good.
Not much else to write about.
Love you always,

24 December 2009


meatloaf, double beetloaf,
I HATE meatloaf.
The most thinspo you'll get out of that movie.
Anise- I took your advice. Christmas movies help. Especially A Christmas Story.
I'm snuggled up in my giant blanketin my giant sweater, with new, nice, classical music, NPR loving boy on the phone, with one small christmas crabcake in my belly, watching A Christmas Story for a second time today.
Aside from the terrible Christmas eve Tradition of chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast (mother made me eat three, a horible 768 calorie breakfast), it's been a decent day. I managed to stay under 1000 calories today, still bad, but better than I've been doing lately. I'm hungry, and I love it. I managed to skip lunch, andI had a crab cake for dinner, 160 calories.
I have an Odwalla Carrot Juice waiting for me in the fridge for breakfast, 140 calories for 15 oz. Restricting during Christmas lunch and then, hopefully, watching Elf with W. I need to get out of the house.
Merry, merry.
Love you always,

23 December 2009


There are somedays I think I'm going crazy cause I hear him so much. He keeps telling me how I'm shit, how it will never work out. I saw a picture of him today and it tore right through me like his bass last night. He had that look, the one he used to give me when he didn't yell, but he used that low voice that he uses in my head, the one that scares me so badly. The caption on the picture was, like the devil has your hand. I don't know what to do or who to believe.


Last night, I went to one of my absolute favorite places. It's just a little old bar that has lately become inhabited with a disgusting amount of thirteen year old scene kids, but I love it almost more than any other place in the world. My best friend drums for this really kind of awful generic pop punk band, and they had a show last night that was really great. I went aprehensively last night, because I knew I'd see the one guy who probably still knows how to rip me right down to the core and smash what's left to pieces, and even just seeing him is hard. He plays bass for the same band. I had my first drink since may when I decided to stop drinking. I'm not very proud of that. Anyways, The first bits of the show were really upsetting for me, I kept thinking to myself, god he looks so good and happy, too. He was just up there playing his bass like he used to when I still existed. He'd look at me occasionally, expressionless, or frowning,and everytime was like he was trying to suck my soul out.
We left after that set, a group of seven I think, to go smoke at the hookah bar downtown by the university. I rode with W, a guy I met a few nights before at my other friends party. We sat next to each other at the bar, which is outside. It was freezing. He gave me his jacket, and then went to the car to get my jacket. I didn't have to ask. Everyone except for me, W, and this other guy, C, left to go to some party. The three of us went to McDonalds. W bought me a Diet Coke, after insisting on getting me something and insisting that I don't need to be drinking diet. We sat in there for a long time, until C had to leave. W asked me if I'd like to see a movie with him, and I said yes, so I guess I have a date today. We just rode around for a really long time after that, and we talked. We both love Classical and Folk music and NPR and Bob Dylan. He says he'd go gay for Sting, and I realized that I know exactly who Sting is and what he looks like and all, but I have no clue what his music sounds like. He said he'll bring a CD for me. He walked me to the door when he dropped me off, which hasn't happened to me before I don't think. He gave me a peck on the cheek goodnight and left. I've had this little slight smile on my face since. And I think I'll be happy for a while.
Love you all,

21 December 2009


So, I'm at home, finally finished with everything. As nice as that is, it's also awful. I'm becoming a hermit, who's also being force-fed by her mother. She has to watch me eat, and I have to eat it all. And dammit, I'm getting fat. I'm up at about one hundred pounds. During exams, I ate like a fat ass, all while promising myself to start restricting as soon as they were over. But, I didn't know that this was going to happen. I don't know what to do. I'm lost and getting huge.

10 December 2009


I'm taking a quick break to update, because I haven't done so in a few days. Don't you just love the way teachers like to wait to give you ALL of your work at the end of the semestre instead of giving it to you in incrimints? I know I sure do! Anyways, I'm giving myself a fifteen minute break from writing my ten page minimum midterm essay for english. I am about ready to pass out asleep. I'm exhuasted. Damn fucking paper.
I'm looking at my roomates thighs. They remind me a little of cellulite-covered hams.

06 December 2009

Take A Deep Breath, Darling.

Phone rings.
Hey, Margaret. About Messiah, I want to ask you a favour. Do you think you could learn the Rejoice Greatly air? Yeah, I'd really appreciate it. I think you can do it. No, Kelly can't do it. Yeah, she can't hold that a. That'd be great. Thanks.
Hang up.
You just had to ask me to do one of the hardest airs in the whole damn symphony. Guess who's going to blow it?

Yep, that's it. FUN.

04 December 2009

This Has Been A Shit Week.

Well except for tuesday (excluding tuesday night). Went to the doctor- ninety fucking eight pounds. God damn. Fought with my parents about grades, got called lots of names, got told everything that was wrong with me. Christ. I hate being home.

02 December 2009


I'm sick. Home sick. As in mother is feeding me. I've been slipping a lot of it to my dog.
I want cabbage. Nice, boiled cabbage. Maybe some carrots. And fat free Italian dressing.
Some one tell me how to avoid food.

01 December 2009

Four Day Fast.

I am fasting until December fourth. This morning I had an epiphany that I should have had a long time ago. Every time I feel an urge to eat, I will work.
If I actually stick to it (I better fucking stick to it) I should be really ahead on everything.
Want lunch, Margie? Do your fucking math homework.
Want a snack? Start your midterm paper.
Want dinner? Get in that studio and buffbuffbuffbuff.
Want another snack? Take your goddamn adderal and work on that paper.

I'm also trying to find some effective diet pills. Any suggestions?

Love you always,

30 November 2009

Sick laughter.

My roomate said "I could be 130lbs...if I tried." today.
I laughed. Hard.
She glared at me.
Karma, bitch.

Anyways. I've been unbearably busy lately. It's jury time, kiddos! That's right, the time of the year where are us little art students cram a portfolio today and have our professors chew it to pieces.
Stress=eating; Eating=fat: Stress= fat.
I have been eating nonstop. It's pathetic and rediculous. Fuck you food. Fuck you cravings. You can all die and go to hell. And so can you, juries. And midterms.
Oh- and to top it all off! I have Messiah. Just remembered- I have 100 some odd pages of music to learn. But on the brightside, I got an aria! A short one, but a beautiful, good and well-known one. If you've ever listened to anything from Handel's Messiah, it's probably been this aria. There were shepherds abiding in the field... all that jazz. Youtube it. It's great. May I suggest Sylvia McNair, Robert Shaw-"Messiah" Shepherds Abiding?

Dammit. I hate December. It's too fucking busy.
Love you always,

25 November 2009


Today is the eve of Thanksgiving. It's our family's first Thanksgiving without her around. We always had dinner at her house. This year, it's at ours. The food won't be nearly as good. The room won't be as warm.
Just a year ago she was well, as healthy as can be. Four months ago, she was diagnosed. Four weeks ago, she died. She was here, the wind blew, and now she's gone.
Like dust.
So earlier today, the day before the four-week anniversary of her passing, I did something that many people would call just plain dumb. They can think that.
I gave myself a tattoo. It's really small and on my hip. It's the Russian word for dust. Life is fragile and momentary.
Like dust.
Love you always,

24 November 2009

Little Sister's Pants.

A few days ago, my thirteen-year-old little sister gave me a pair of her old jeans. I hadn't gotten around to trying them on until this morning. I haven put on any jeans besides my size 25 BDG jeans in about a month, mostly just because I normally wear sweat pants, or skirts or those BDG's when I'm feeling decently about my legs.
Anyways, when I put her old jeans on, I was pleasantly suprised (slightly disturbed) to find that I can't keep them on without a belt. They're a size zero.
Yes. Losing inches is good.
AND when I bend over and look between my legs, you can now see the entire out line of my hip bone, every vertabrae and every rib.
I feel good today.

Love you always,

23 November 2009

Dearest Fire Alarm:

Please stop lying. It's making me hate you, and lowering my ability to trust your judgement. One day, there actually might be a fire. You'll go off, and I'll just think to myself, "Oh there it is again, I'll just stay in my room." Then I will burn to a crisp, and it will be your fault.
You've gone off five times in the past twenty minutes. I would like to let you know that I am sick, fasting, didn't sleep at all last night and am quite cranky.
Oh, there you are again. Six times. You are making me deaf. Oh look, you turned off again.
Please let me sleep, and stop lying.
Thank you kindly.

22 November 2009


I need to work out. I need to stop eating and then sleeping. And then waking up and eating more. I have eaten nonstop this weekend. I did really well until about two o'clock yesterday and everything went downhill from there. And I had a fucking bagel with butter this morning. Butter. Christ, I am losing it. Really.
I am going to lock myself in a room with nothing but a sketchbook, notebook, a few magazines and a sink and a toilet. And never come out. Ever.

20 November 2009


Drove to hometown. Got sushi with mother.
She made me eat all of it.
Got home.
Sat in my window and smoked.
And cried.
Felt like getting drunk.
Looked for open wine. Didn't find any.
Looked for open vodka. Didn't find any.
Gave up.
Sat in my window and smoked.
And cried.

19 November 2009


Is amazing. I love it. And I would love some cabbage right now.

Fatty McFatfast.

Yesterday, something inside of me said fuckthisfastletsfeast. So I did just that.
It wasn't too bad (macncheesewholegrainpastapicklescabbage) and it could have been much worse. I hadn't taken any of my meds for the past few days, so I had no sense of discipline or self-control. I want to weigh in, but I decided I'm not going to until after I finish this fast. Which sadly, is only going to be until tomorrow at lunch time, because my mom and dad are coming to have a meeting with my math teacher because I am not doing so hot in math. So they're taking me to lunch (maybe, I'm going to try to get out of it) and then to dinner, and then home. Where they will shovel me full of food and talk about how thin I am.
I'm having a two day fast when I get back to prepare myself for the HELL that Thanksgiving will be. If anyone has tips about avoiding gorging during thanksgiving, I would appreciate them so so so greatly.
Sorry for the rambling and unorganized thoughts, I am a bit manic right now.
Love you always,

17 November 2009

I Am A Fat Furry Bear With No Self-Control

who can't fast to save her life anymore and forgets to take her prozac and her adderal so she only likes to fall into the safe, cozy arms of sleep. Hibernation. And eating.
So fasting time is starting over. I'm shooting for two days.
I'm too scared to count my calories.
Probably over one thousan fivehundred.

My knuckles are RAW. Completely.
I basically got into a gang fight with a hunk of alabaster and a rasp.
Guess who won? Hint: it wasn't me.

Love you always.

16 November 2009

I Have No Title.

All weekend, I ate like a huge fatass.
I ate like a huge fatass at lunch.
Curly fries and a veggie burger? Really, Margaret? Really?!

I have to apologize for being so fucking whiny for the past week or so.
I reread my last few posts and wanted to slap myself. I really sound like a huge fucking self-pitying bitch.
I am in a good mood today, despite having such a horrid eating day.
I had a really great weekend. Two of my best friends from home came up to visit for a bit on Saturday, and then Eric and I went to the ballet later that night. It felt really nice to dress up for sometthing that wasn't a funeral. And a plus- it was fabulous, live-action thinspo. Which apparently isn't working too well...
Yesterday was my birthday, and it was wonderful. I went to lunch with mom and dad and sister, and then went to the laundromat with Eric, who got me a pretty bad ass present, I must say. He got me puppet that's a monster (shown above), who I brought to the majority of my classes today, and he gave me a card that's shaped like a pickle. Inside he wrote, "Happy mother FUCK-ing birthday" and signed his name inside a poorly-drawn heart. I've never know a guy who can draw a heart. They always look like butts or potatoes.
Oh, Eric. Hahaha.


I'm fasting again as of tomorrow, if anyone wants to join in maybe.

Love you always,

13 November 2009


I don't remember happy.
I don't remember happy.

12 November 2009

Starting Over.

Today's a new day, a new beginning.
I had another awful binge day yesterday.
Therefore, I will be fasting until Saturday.
My birthday's Sunday.
I refuse to eat cake.
Yay for being able to be tried as an adult and legally move out.
Big girl jail...Woohoo.

Love you always,

10 November 2009


Today, I woke up. Then I binged.
Then I had a mother fucking panic attack, for the love of god.
Then I went to sleep.
Then I woke up again.
And binged. Again.
I'm still hungry as all get out too.
Fuck me sideways.....

Love you always.

09 November 2009

Point of Insanity.

Look at you, shuffling around campus. You are lost.
Where are you?
Where are you?
In your head, swirling amongst their voices.
Shaking. It's cold; you're freezing. Why don't you wear your coat?
What's wrong with you?
What's wrong with you?
Look at you, fidgeting in your chair. You don't hold still.
You squeeze your eyes shut. Escape.
Go away.
Go away.
Staring. There's food; you're starving. Why don't you eat?
What's wrong with you?
What's wrong with you?

08 November 2009

Too Tired To Actually Write.

So I'm posting food.
I can't tell if food today was bad or good.
Fat wise, it was terrible. Calories wise, it was decent.
(I'm so ready to get out of this mood)

d- vegetable chilli (330, 4g) espresso (2, 0g)
s- reese's cups (160, 10g) pickles (10, 0g)
e- walking 45 min.(-121)
total: 381, 14g.

Love you always.

07 November 2009

Life Throws Too Many Curveballs.

Horribly sad day. Tired of death.
Two weekends of funerals is too much.
Blair's funeral was easily one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed. The church was completely full, and not a single eye in the building was dry. It was so different than Mammy's funeral.
I'm completely exhausted. Losing two people in one week..
You never expect these things to happen.
There are so many questions I'm asking right now. So many things I'm regretting.
Terrible food day.
I'm going to bed.

Love you always.

05 November 2009

Never Saw It Coming.

Last night, a friend of mine committed suicide.
It was just last week we last talked on the phone.
I can't believe he's gone. I can't believe none of us knew.
And through the loss and sadness of it all, I can't help but be a little angry at him.
Bud, why'd you have to leave so soon?
Why didn't you tell us?

I'm gonna miss you, Bud. A whole hell of a lot.
I love you. Rest in peace, Blair.
20 November 1992- 4 November 2009.

04 November 2009


I just bought a new pair of heels. They're simple: black leather, round-toe, four inch. And I'm learning that they make my feet feel like shit, and they give me blisters and the tops of my feet hurt, but heels are truly the ultimate confidence booster.
So. I adore my new heels.
My mind is rather messy today. I cleaned everything today, except my mind. I went on a two-hour adderal/caffeine fueled cleaning/organizing/gutting/reorganizing/wrestling coat hangers spree.
I just wish I could do the same thing with my head, because I can't think. And it's quite quite quite bothersome.
I'm still exhausted. I just want to sleepsleepsleepsleephibernatesleep. I don;t know what to do with my tired self.
I had a decent food day, except of the rediculous amount of FAT that I ate.
b- protein bar(210, 7g)
l- protein bar (210, 7g)
d- unagi nigri (108, 5g)
e- 45 min brisk walking (-121)
total: 407, 19g !!!
bad, bad, bad, bad fat Margie!!!!

Love you always,

03 November 2009

Awfully tired.

I'm dead exhausted. It's the kind that caffeine can't fix.
I'm stressed as all get-out too.
I'm too tired to write. I have no thoughts.
Decent food day.

b- 0
l- bits of salad (21, 0)
s- frosted flakes (110, 0)
d- 0
total: 131,0

Love you always.

02 November 2009

I Saw A Ghost Today.

I've been thinking too much lately. About things that have past. People, a certain person. Places, memories. I can't get them off my mind.
I want them to go away. I want him to go away.
But he'll never leave. He'll never leave.
There's always going to be that voice voice of his, slurring away in my head.
It's all my fault.
And those big, gaping scars that he gave me, that never seem to heal.
It's all my fault.
I know this doesn't make sense to you. It doesn't make sense to me either.

Love you always.

01 November 2009

I Detest Irony.

I left home today. Halfway to school, my mom calls to tell me I left my other keys (I have two sets: one for my car keys, house key, backdoor key, cvs card, gold's card, basically stuff I only use at home. On the other I have the keys to my dorm, my flatfile, etc, basically the stuff I only use at school.) at home. She says not to turn around, she'll mail them and they'll be here in a few days. So I keep driving. It's only until I'm actually at school that I realize that I need those keys to open my mailbox.

Love you always.

31 October 2009


meh meh meh meh meh meh.

Wake up. Eat. Leave school. Realize I don't have shoes or a dress that are appropriate for a funeral. Spend too much time looking for one. Fount it. Eat. Call home. Funeral's tomorrow? What? That's too fast. Visitation's tonight? What? That's too fast. Get home. Shower. Get back in the car. Drive two hours. Visit with family. Eat eat eat eat. Drive to funeral home. Open-casket. Try not to look. Sit in recieving line. "She looks so pretty, doesn't she?" That's not her...she's not the same. "She looks just like you. You have her eyes." Wrong. She had brown eyes. "She looks so peaceful, doesn't she?" Her mouth is stretched so tight...it's not the same. "Are they feeding you up at that school?" Awkward smile, awkward nod. "Your grandmother was a wonderful, beautiful woman." I know. She was. She really was. Go back to Grandparents' house. Eat eat eat eat eat. Drive two hours. Get home. Sleep.

Wake up. Drive two hours. Wait on hearse and limo. Get poked at by great aunts. "Oh, Margaret! We've got to put some weight on these bones!" Ride to the church. Wait for service to start. Walk in. Sit in front row. I can't believe she's in there... Amazing grace, how sweet.... Cry. Watch family cry. Blessed be the tie that binds... Walk out behind her. I still can't believe she's in there. Ride to burial site. Say goodbye... Talk to lots of distant relatives and people I don't know or remember. Ride back to the church. Eat, eat, eat. Go home. Eat, eat, eat, eat. Sleep. Wake up. Eat. Visit friends. Borrow a costume. Consider going to a big party with friends, decide against it. Find four or five friends. Spend Halloween sober, in a basement, on a couch with a great group of people. Five good friends get arrested at the party I almost went to. Eat. Watch malcom in the middle. Laugh. Live.

Love you always.

29 October 2009


Today, my grandmother passed away.
I don't feel much like writing.

Now I'm old and feeling grey;
I don't know what's left to say
about this life I'm willing to leave.
I lived it full,
and I lived it well;
there's many tales I lived to tell.
I'm ready now;
I'm ready now.
I'm ready now to fly
from the highest wing.

I had a dream.

Love you always,

28 October 2009


October 2008.
I was roughly 118-122lbs. Everything I wore was pretty tight, almost to the point of being too small. I didn't really care though. I still felt good with myself. I carried myself confidently; shoulders back, head held high, strutting. I could look at myself in the mirror and toss my gorgeous, thick, never-been-dyed hair around and smilesmilesmile.
October 2009.
I am roughly 93-90 lbs. Everything I wear is too big and baggy, even though it fit me not too long ago. I care. Alot. I want those clothes to get baggier, looser. I don't feel good with myself. My walk is like a cross between a crackhead and an old woman's; back hunched, gaze directed downward or to nowhere in particular, shuffling along quickly and aimlessly. I look at myself in the mirror, brush the thinning, dulling hair away from my eyes, poke, pull and prod at various bulges that may or may not exist and glare.
Love you always,
ps. sorry for being a whiny, self-sorry bitch for these past few days.

27 October 2009

I Am Doomed

to be forever in the grasps of fat and failure.
I had a terrible food day. I disgust myself. No control; no discipline.
I'm utterly pathetic, and will never, ever be good enough. Ever.
I want to fix it, this broken up mess that has become my life, but I can't.
I want to be thin.
I want my family to work again.
I want to be loved.
I want to be a good student.
I want to be a good artist.
But none of that will ever happen. I'm just not good enough.
And I never will be good enough.

Love you always (hate me always)

26 October 2009


Height: 5'2.5"
Weight: 93.5 lbs
BMI: 16.8

Love you always (hate me always)


Sinking like a stone in the sea;
burning like a bridge for your body.

I'm tired and incredibly depressed. I don't know what to do with myself.
I'm doing poorly in academics because I have no motivation.
I have no appetite (thank god.) I don't want to see or hear from anyone but maybe one person. Let's call him X. I dreamt about him last night. I haven't seen him since August thirteenth. I miss him.
Everything in my life is simultaneously falling apart. My family, my relationship, friendships, schoolwork, me.
I want to go away from everything and do nothing but starve, and sleep. And breathe. Maybe not even that.

I don't know what to do.

Love you always (hate me always)

25 October 2009

Tear Me to Shreds.

You laugh at every word trying hard to be cute;
I almost feel sorry for what I'm going to do.
Your hair smells of smoke.
Who will cast the first stone?

I don't think I'll ever understand how someone who can make me feel so good about myself can make me feel so horrible about myself at the same time. 'Cause he can. He can tear me to pieces easier than anyone else I know. And he doesn't have to say a word.
Just keep flirting with her. Don't worry about me, babe. I'm fine over here, watching you.
I mean, I wouldn't want to be with me either. So go ahead. Go be with her. She's normal (unlike me) pretty (unlike me) and you can take her out to dinner, like a normal couple.
And if I was honest about what the problem is, I'd have to admit that it's me.
I will lie awake, lie for fun, and fake the way I hold you.
Let you fall for every empty word I say.

Love you always (hate me always)

The Bear.

The bear awakens from her deep sleep. She is hungry. No, hungry isn't the right word. She is famished, ravenous. She will eat anything that crosses her path.
She cannot help herself, and goes searching for food. She finds nothing in her den.
She ventures out into the nearby forest and again finds nothing. The other, bigger, hungrier bears have cleared all the food away while she was sleeping. This leaves her no choice but to wander further into the concrete jungle. Half way through her joruney she pauses frantically, and thinks,
"What are you doing?! You can't do this! Don't you want to be a skinny, pretty bear?"
Another voice answers her thought.
"Eat. Eat. Eat. Feast. Today is your feast day. Feast. Eat. Eat. Eat."
So she does. The bear will eat and eat and east and feast and feast and feast.
And tommorow? Tomorrow, she will starve.

24 October 2009


Today was terribly, horribly boring.
Best friend couldn't make it up today. So, I sat on my fat ass all day.
I woke up about ten thirty, took a shower, ate a square of chocolate, brushed my teeth, texted Eric. Texted him. Waited. Fell back to sleep. Woke up. No replies. Got on the internet. Eric texted back at twelve seventeen: "i just woke up" I respond. He texted back at twevle thirty four: "bonjour ma petit puce." I respond. Both text back to see if I want to go eat lunch. The three of us went downtown. The boys wanted to go to this little Jamaican place to watch a soccer match. I forgot the team that was playing. Eric had jerk chicken. He had jerk pork. I had mixed steamed veggies. Both were too glued to the telly to watch me eat. I ate maybe a sixteenth of what I was served.
They both talked about the stupid things they do with their friends.
E:Dude. Have you ever done a laxorace?
H:(Laughs) No!
E:They're kinda fun. You take like a bunch of laxatives, like two, and then whoever shits first loses.
M:Great dinner conversation.
E:But dude. You gotta do it sometime.
I laughed at how Eric said a bunch of laxatives was two. I've got him beat in the laxxie department, I'd say. After luch we walked around for like an hour. Then I sat by myself for the rest of the day and worked in sculpture for an hour or so.
I kind of binged on Frosted Flakes, but they're fat free, and I sculpted and walked for a good bit, so I'm not too worried about it.
b- one piece chocolate (31, 2g)
l- a bit of steamed veggies (22, 0g)
d- a bite or two of leftover lunch (15, 0g)
s- three svgs frosted flakes (330, 0g)
e- walking one hr and sculpting one hr (-388)
total: 6, 0g
Pretty good.
Love you always,

23 October 2009

It's Getting Cold; I Think We Should Go

I am glum today. And again don't have very much to say.

I had two critiques today, both of which went swimmingly.
I went to the laundromat and sat on the washer and had a heart to heart with Eric. He and his girlfriend just broke up. I don't like seeing him sad.
My other best friend in the whole world is coming up to visit me tomorrow. I can't wait to see her. She's going to help me decorate, and then we're going shopping.
There's a baseball game tonight at the stadium near my dorm. I get to listen to muffled and echoed techno music and annoucer's voices. It's a little soothing, actually.
My roommate's gone for the weekend.
I'm out of diet coke.
I had a good food day.
And I have no food to ruin it with. I threw everything but safe foods out.

d- steamed veggies (62, 0)
total: 62, 0

Love you always,

22 October 2009


Why do I always ruin my good days?
It's like there's a part of me that wants to fail.
At everything. I can't even starve right anymore.
It's this damn fucking chocolate craving I've been having (fuckyoumenstrualcycle) that's been my downfall.
Luckily (not exactly), I've since eaten all of my chocolate.
is what my minds screaming all the time.

I've been giving myself a good mental flogging for the past two days.

Love you always(hate me always).


I was looking through pictures earlier. I decided I'd share some with you.
They're mostly of things that I love, things that I miss, nostalgic things, etc. I'm sure they aren't that interesting. But I don't have much to say today, and pictures are woth a thousand words.

My gorgeous dogs. Jake (has three legs) and Daisy, my rubenesque darling.

My old pony, Sirrocko. I was happy then.

His eyes. They're gorgeous.


b- 0

l- 1/2 of a salad (25, 0)

d- protein bar (170, 4.5)

s- 0

e- walking downtown (-124)

total: 71, 4.5

Love you always.


Why is it double spaced?! That's quite, quite aggravating.

21 October 2009

A Lot More Than Melancholy.

I binged on fucking Reese's cups today. I ate six. 780 fucking calories and 45 fucking grams of fat.

He was quiet today. He didn't want to seem to talk to me.
He was almost twenty minutes late.
We were eating dinner. My roommate joined us. She flirted with him.
I think he flirted back. My roommate joked about my dying gradmother.
They both commented on my weight.

I just want to run back to the way things used to be.
Before everything went wrong.

I'm so fucking tired.

8:34 pm, EST.
He calls.
"Hey, listen. I'm really sorry about dinner. I know you wanted it to be just us."
"It's okay."
"Come downstairs if you can."

I went, and there he was, just getting back from the grocer's. His long, curly hair was in a ponytail, with the bits of hair that had fallen out around his face. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. I always forget how handsome he is.
He had two bags. He reached inside the bag in his left hand, and pulled out a jar of pickles.

"Your favorite kind."
"That they are." I was smiling. I reached for them.
"Hang on there, mon petite fille."
He twisted off the top, something I always have trouble with.
"There you go. And, I'm sorry."
"I know."

He held me close and kissed the top of my head. We said goodnight, and went our own ways.

And as for the clouds, just let them roll away.

Love you always.

20 October 2009

Six pounds.

I've gained six pounds so far this month.
I will get it off. Oh, I will get it off.
I will get it off and more.

So. I have a plan: a new diet. I mentioned it earlier, but it's been revised.
The only thing I'm changing is adding fruits and veggies to the list
Low fat and low cal.
I'm hoping it will work.

My mind is all over the place.
I'm super jittery from probably taking too much addy.
I'll cut back tomorrow.

b- 0
l- ~1 cup salad- lettuce, 2 slices tomato, 4 slices cucumber, 5 slices onion (21, 0.3)
d- 0
s- orange (40, 0)
total: 61, 0.3

Very good day.

Love you always,

19 October 2009


Went to the psychiatrist today. Refilled my prozac and my adderal. Hell yes.
Today is the last day fatass-ness.
Goodbye, pudding.
Hello, lovely bones.

Love you always,

18 October 2009

I cannot take this much longer. I
am fat and gooey and mushy all over and I HATE it. There is no muscle, just goo. Pudge. Pudding. Yes, I am covered in pudding, that’s what. My body is merely a Ziploc bag full of pudding. Squishy, nasty pudding.

Dearest, sweetest mother,
Please please please please refill my adderal prescription so I can concentrate (on dieting and fasting diligently) and get my work done on time and thoroughly (so I can exercise more) and raise my grades (and lower the obscene number on the scale.)
You are the best,
Your daughter,

I’m subconsciously beginning to wean myself off of food again; I catch myself calculating, counting measuring everything that I put into my fat, greasy mouth. I catch myself counting the number of times I chew, and spitting unnecessary food into my napkin. Drinking excessive amounts of anything. Filling my gut to the brim, nine parts liquid, one part food.

I felt hunger creep up earlier today. I pleaded with her to please stay but he made me eat.
I want lovely, lovely hunger back. I want her back to stay.
I will eat meal bars for the remainder of the week. And half of one for a snack. If forced.

b- three croissants, five small pancakes
l- ½ a serving of vegetable curry, one mini spring roll
d- meal bar, rice snacks
s- milano cookies, one reese’s cup

A new regime begins tomorrow.

Love you.

17 October 2009

My Stomach Really Might Rupture.

I am in so much pain right now. I didn't stop eating today.

b- three pieces of bread with pasta sauce
l- black bean soup, 1/4 a baguette, 5 pickles
d- 2 onion tartes, potatoes au gratin, salad, 2 cookies, 1 pudding cup, 3 pieces of chess pie.
s- crackers with red pepper hummus

The sad thing- this is the average amount of food a normal person would eat in a day.
And my body freaks out over it.

Love you always,

Manic Manic Manic Manic Manic

I'm really on the verge of having a panic attack. I feel terrible from eating. Food makes me physically ill. But I want more. I want more. My appetite is comepletely insatiable. But I can't have more. My mind is screaming, and so is my stomach and it's this terrible dissonance thats about to rip my eardrums apart and make my heart explode.
I'm shaking all over and I want to crycrycry but I can't because one can always tell I've been crying for the next three hours and I have stuff to do.
I just want to curl up and hibernate forever. If I do that I'll never eat again.
I want to eat. I don't want to eat. I want to eat the whole fucking world. I don't want to eat the whole fucking world.
I've already gained three pounds. It's probably food weight.
Love you always,

16 October 2009

Let The Weight Gain Diet Begin.

Oh boy. Have I eaten today, or what?
I ended my fast today. And I am eating. Kind of like a normal person.
I really really really really really really want to purge. I'm very uncomfortably full right now. I feel sick and sleepy. Because I've lost my sense of sensible eating, so my eating like a normal person is hurried binging, like if I don't get every bite of food in front of me down in five minutes, someone is going to steal it.
I'm not going to count calories during this time, because I know that I'll probably totally and comepletely lose it and purgepurgepurgepurge. Which I am dying to do right about now....
I'm going out to dinner lately, and then to the State Fair after that. The chances I will binge are EXTREMELY high. Ugh.
I'm feeling incredible shaky and scared. I can feel myself becoming nasty and doughy already. Who knows how long this will last.

b- 2 chocolate croissants, pumpkin spice latte
l- jimmy johns veggie sub
d- tortilla soup
s- french fries, 1/2 a funnel cake

More than I normally eat in two days in two meals. OHMYGODIMGOINGTOFREAKINGDIEOHMYGOD

Love you always,

15 October 2009

Freaking Dammit..but This Could Work Out Well.

I just got off the phone with my mom. I called her to talk about getting back on my adderal, to get me focused (which I am not, I have terrible ADD) and to help me lop off a few extra pounds. She says, "How much do you weigh?" I lied and told her niney-five. She said, "There's no way you weight that much. Get yourself to a hundred pounds and we'll start your adderal again."
FUCK. I need that adderal.
But, I've constructed a plan.
I will gain weight, probably around five pounds. Eight at most. Definately no more than eight. I'll eat and drink loads before her little weigh-in, to add a few pounds of temporary weight. I'll get my adderal and then once I start taking it again, I'll be able to fast and diet and excercize like nobody's business, thanks to addy's incredible appetite crushing ability, and that weight should come right off.
So after I finish this fast, I will start my terrible, horrible, horrifying (I really am terrified...) journey into the realms of my old, fat-covered world.
Ninety five pounds...oof. Sounds cushy and gooey and sticky, like sitting in icing. Gross.
I might actually miss having a prepetually bruised ass. I know I'll miss my creepy clavicle. And my pretty little pointy hipbones. And my stegasaurus spine. And back ribs.
But they will be back. Oh, they will be back and better than ever.
After I get my adderal, I will be starting a partial-liquid diet. I will eat soup! Nice, warm, filling soup. That will deal with my savoury cravings. Pickles (and there lovely juice) will be my salty cravings. Fruit juice will smash my sweet cravings. And for that nasty chocolate craving, I will drink chocolate soy milk. And of course. LOTS of water. And Diet Coke. As always.

Love you always,

14 October 2009


Today, I woke up, took the SAT, took a nap, watched a movie about Maya Lin (which was quite good, actually) in Art History, did some homework, took another nap and wrote in my blog. I plan on taking another nap after this post. And then waking up and working more and then going right back to sleep.

I think I'm having the most exciting day ever. I should be put in the history books.

But- breaking news- I don't even want food today. At all.

I've been drinking lots of weird juices today. I had orange juice for breakfast, and tomato juice for lunch. I had some pickle juice for a snack, and if you like pickles, you should try drinking the juice (sparingly, otherwise you'll become quite ill) because it's incredibly filling. I'm having an odd craving for carrot juice. And fresh marinara sauce. Yum.

Anyways, I haven't got much to say today, because today I am mostly lethargic and don't know what I'm thinking, because I'm not thinking anything. Except for carrot juice. Sweet, sweet carrot juice.

It's freezing cold today, and drizzly.

Love you always,

13 October 2009

Even More Frustration.

Today, I fainted and had to eat. FML.

So yeah. I fainted around mid-afternoon. It's nothing that unusual for me, because I'm a "fainter," as one might say. I have vaso-vagal hypo tension (low blood pressure), hypoglycemia (low bloodsugar), etc. So I blamed the faint on the vaso-vagal, drank some orange juice and felt fine. But, then a certain suspicious friend sat me down and forced me to have dinner, which I planned on going back and attempting to puke up. So, I went back; I got in the shower, and began to put all my purging research to use. I could feel it working, until my roomate came into the bathroom. And sat on the toilet and asked me about my day.

Why do I have to retch so fucking loud? UGH!

So continuing juice fast tomorrow. Or, restarting.


I hope things start to get better. I can see the weight I've put on.

Love you,

12 October 2009

(Insert The Saddest Pathetic Sqeak of a Noise Ever Here and You'll Have the Noises I Am Currently Making)

I am on my bed sobbingsobbingsobbing and shakingshakingshaking. I just went on the binge of the century. I just ate a whole bag of oreos, an entire loaf of bread smothered in butter and pasta sauce, a jar of pickles, and lots of other things that I don't remember eating.
I've given myself a migraine from ramming my fingers down my throat (rather pointlessly, because I'm puking nothing but diet coke and teeny little bits of bread) and I'm sure the entire fucking hall can hear me retching, 'cause Chairman Mao just gave me a call and said, "Would you keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep over here, s'il vous plait!" And I just want to vomit until my stomach comes up with it so I can't ever eat again.
Earlier today, I quite purposefully scalded my tongue to keep myself from binging, but it didn't work, obviously.
I really don't know what to do. I HAVE to be thin. No matter what drastic measures it takes.
I know I say this almost every post, and everytime I mean it stronger and stronger.
I hate myself. I really and truly utterly loathe myself.


11 October 2009


Help, I have done it again.
I have been here many times before;
I hurt myself again today,
and the worst part is there's no-one else to blame

There's a voice. It tells me:
Eat. Eat until you can eat no longer, until there is no physical way possible for you to swallow another morsel. This is the last time you will eat for a while.
So I do. I eat until I am gagging with every bite of food that passes through my greasy lips. I eat meringue until there is a sickly-sweet, foamy film that coats my mouth; I eat pickles until my mouth burns from an excess of vinegar. I sit on my bed with crumbs around my mouth, loathing myself and food.

I really don't know what I'm going to do with myself. I'm stuck in a cycle of bingefastbingefastbingefastbingefastfastbingecleansesmallbingefastfatfatfatfatfatfat
I wish I wasn't able to taste. I wish that it was excruciating for me to consume solid foods. I wish I didn't have heaps of fat swallowing me whole. I wish I could look in the mirror and see thinthinthin instead of what I see instead. I wish I could break this cycle and go back to just restricting. I wish just restricting were enough. I wish I was strong.

No food tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or the next day.

I have lost myself again,
lost myself, and I am nowhere to be found.
I think that I might break;
I have lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Love you.

Post Fast Photos.

I don't see much of a difference, but it is "that time of the month," so I'm bloated as all-get-out.
Love you,

10 October 2009

Um, Excuse Me? What?!

So here I am, back in my little box of a dorm. I'm enjoying my nightly chamomille tea while listening to Iron & Wine and Ray LaMontagne. First, something half-good/half-bad happens: my phone rings. It's him. "Hey. I feel really badly about kinda blowing you off. I was getting dinner with one of my best friends, and I haven't seen him in a really long time, and I didn't want you to feel left out. But I kinda feel like I left you out anyway. So to make it up to you, wanna go to dinner tomorrow night with my family? I want them to meet you." I agreed. I'm not entirely sure if I should have. I'm going to have to eat like a normal person, especially if they offer to pay. OHMYGODWHATDIDIJUSTGETMYSELFINTO?!?!?

Shortly after we've hung up, my roomate gets in from contra. We're talking like we normally do, and somehow the topic of eating comes up. So she looks at me, all dramatic-like (she is an actress...) and says, "Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about this. (insert long dramatic pause here) Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but a lot of us have been worried about you lately."
"Oh? Like who? About what?"
"I don't really feel comfortable saying who. But five or six people have come up to me and commented about how unhealthy and skinny you look. You look sick. We've also been noticing that you either don't show up at meals and when you're there you don't eat them... And you know, I've been hearing you run the water when you go into the bathroom, and I always hear you flush multiple times. Don't think I don't know what's going on. I think you have a problem, Margaret."
"Don't be stupid. I eat all the fucking time. You even said so yourself like, three nights ago. You guys are making stupid judgements. There's nothing wrong. I'm just....stressed. That's all. Yeah, I lose weight when I'm stressed."
"Okay then...admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery...."
Then a thought that could only run through the mind of a disgruntled anorexic ran through my disgruntled, anorexic mind: You're only jealous...

I honestly do not know what to do right now. I'm on the verge of break down. I just want to make a nest-burrow out of down comforters and sleep until all of this is over. Sleep forever. Sleep and escape.

Love you,


That's a really accurate descprition how I'm feeling right now. Meh.
So I'm writing this from a laundromat. I just thought that was funny. I really like the laundromat. I like being where I know no one. I love the feeling of being comepletely anonymous.

So I did relatively well with eating today. I didn't have a huge binge, unless you count C&S, which I did a good bit of. My roommate went contra dancing tonight. Although I did a mini-binge on pickles and meringue cookies, but they're both fat-free and pretty low-cal. I'm not too upset. Although I had one regular cookie... three grams of fat.... ughhhhh.

Emotionally, my day was pretty shitty. I was in a bad mood for most of the day, and my dad (even as oblivious as he is) noticed my weight and how little I ate at lunch. I told him "I'm going to fall fest later and will most likely eat like a pig while I'm there!" Later at fall fest, I "forgot my wallet." After fall fest, we had planned to go eat dinner together. I ran to get a shower, and as I got out, he calls: "Hey, I think I'm just gonna go eat with a friend instead. I can bring you something back, if you like." This brought my already non-existant self-esteem down into the negatives. I wouldn't have minded so much if I haven't already been blown-off by so many other people I care about. Being blown-off jsut makes me feel like such a little shit of a person. It's so funny how one little thing like that can make you feel so, so, so badly about yourself.

So then I went to go do laundry. Woohoo.

But, I did a lot of unintentional exercise today, which I am VERY happy about.
So anyways. I'll give you a post-fast photo tomorrow afternoon after a juice clense.

b- 0
l- 1/3 of a house salad (no dressing), 5 sweet potato fries (64 cals, 1g fat)
d- 1/3 of a easy mac cheesy pizza snack pack (73 cals, 1g fat)
s- 10 pickles, 7 meringue cookies, 1 chocolate chip cookie (318 cals, 3g fat)
e- 2.5 hours standing, 2 hours brisk walking, 15 minutes stairs (-827)
total: -373 cals, 5g fat

Love you,

09 October 2009

Oh No. Please, Please, Please God, No: Reasons Why I am going to have a Bad Day Tomorrow

Firstly. I have Saturday class tomorrow. Three hours of Observational Drawing, bright and early on the one day I get to sleep in. Even worse: it's open house. That means I can't go to morning class in my PJ's like I want to, and I have to put on a big fat smile and talk to prospectives.
Secondly. My dear, sweet drawing teacher is bringing doughnuts! Yay! Oh, but not just any doughnuts, Krispy Kreme doughnuts! Oh boy! Another fried, sugary blob of fat to tempt Margaret with! Everyone, eat doughnuts! Yummy! I also had to go on one of my little food freak-outs when Thompson even mentioned the word in class today, so everyone will be expecting me to jump on that like white on rice. Hopefully everyone will eat them all, and there won't be any left for me. Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, let there be no doughnuts left.
Thirdly. My dad is coming up for a visit along with my little sister. I'm really excited to see them both, but not so excited to eat in front of them. Because what do families do when they get together? Eat, of course!! So I'm thinking going for Chinese and getting an order of steamed veggies and maybe a fortune cookie (they're only 30 cals and fat-free) and a big ol' Diet Coke. Sounds good, yes?
Fourthly. Chances are I'll binge tomorrow. I can't do a C&S deal, my roomates in town all weekend. Any tips on how to keep me from binging? Any tips are greatlygreatlygreatly appreciated.

Wish me luck tomorrow!
Love you,

08 October 2009

Some Stupid Rant.

I am in such a bad mood today. It's probably just the fact that I haven't eaten today and binged last night and I've been back and forth to the bathroom over fifteen minutes today, but still. I feel like venting/ranting.
So, first off.
I'm really, really, really getting annoyed at how much of a passive-aggressive bitch my roomate can be. And how hypocritical she is. And how much of a drama queen she is.
She has got it all- she's rich, her parents would do anything for her, her boyfriend is perfect (I'm not exaggerating- he really is perfect) she's gorgeous, and stylish. The list goes on. But all that girl does is bitch and moan. She even bitches about how perfect her life is! I mean, seriously?!
I think I'm mostly jealous. I've never been a "normal" kid, with my issues and all. She has been. And I hate watching her get to be upset about normal teenage stuff.
For instance: she was really upset today because her dad doesn't approve of the two-year age difference between her and her boyfriend. They are still allowed to be together, things are still working out very well, but her dad doesn't like the fact that he's in college. So she had a full-on sobbing breakdown. I think most girls of my age would do that, maybe.
The thing is, I was ready to scream, "Would you just please quit your fucking moaning for one fucking day?! I am going through serious emotional turmoil right now, and you don't see me complaining to everyone about it!!! Who gives a fuck that your dad doesn't like how old your boyfriend is!?!?" I'm really glad I didn't. I almost did.
I wish I got to cry about stuff like that. "Normal" stuff.
Instead I cry over eating a bowl of sprinkles. I cry over gaining a pound.
I cry because I'm weak. I cry because I don't know what might happen to me; I can't answer that classic interview question, "where do you see yourself in five years?" trufully.
Will I even be alive in five years? I don't know.

Love you,

New Beginning

So. I decided to take some pictures for start fast/ after fast.
So, here's start:

And I really like my outfit today. So I though I'd show that too.

Men's flannel, jeans shorts, black hose, dusty boots, and enormous bag. I'm so classy.

Love you,

07 October 2009

Stupid boy.

Eric is my best friend in the universe. I've loved him like my brother for years, and mother says we'll end up married. I tell him mostly everything, and he tells me.
And right now, I'm about ready to castrate him. I'm so angry at him.

We were out today getting coffee, like we do almost everyday. He decided that he wanted Bellacino's. So I agreed to go with him. He orders a personal pizza and oven-baked fries.
When the waiter (who was gorgeous) came with Eric's food, he took it, and we sat down outside. He then proceeded to push the plate of frech fries in front of me.
"These are yours."
"No, I'm fine. I already ate."
"No you didn't; don't lie to me. Eat."
"Eric, I promise you I ate."
He looked at me all seriously. "Eat. It's just a plate of french fries."
I hesitated, wathed the food, felt my stomach beg for food, heard my mind scream scream scream, and I got scared and fidget-y.
"I'm fine. I don't need them."
"Margaret. You scare me more than anyone else I've ever met. You're my best friend and I don't know what I would do without you. So eat the damn fries."
"Eat. Now. I hate to be this guy, but I'm about ready to call your mom. I haven't seen you eat in days, and when you do, it's nothing. Seriously, I am worried about you. I want you to eat. Please."
By now, I had tears in my eyes and was shaking. I've never seen him that legitamately concerned. I wanted to hit him, but I also just wanted to hug him. Mostly hit him though.

I ate the fries. Every single one.

I'm fat and bloated and gross, but I took some laxatives. Maybe I'll say my stomach's upset (which it will be, laxatives hurt me so badly) and I'll get to avoid having to sit, dying of boredom during portfolio prep tonight.
I'll also avoid Eric during mealtimes to avoid eating. He'll catch on though.
Stupid writers...they're too smart. (Just kidding. They're my favorite!)

b- 0
l- sprinkles (75, 0g fat)
d- oven baked fries (260, 7g fat)
s- 0
e- walking downtown 45 min. (-189)
total: 249 cals, 7g fat

I'm tracking fat now. I refuse to eat anything with over 20g per serving.
I hope I'm less upset soon.

Love you,




I ate sprinkles today. A whole goddamn bowl of sprinkles.
I haven't eaten enough to purge, but I can't eat more.
I don't know what to do. I'm drowning in my fat and fear...

I was fasting too! I was doing well!
God, I am such a fuckup.
Fast restarts in




You won't eat again until Saturday at breakfast.

I'm so so lost right now. I really am. I'm nothing more than some crazy little thing wandering aimlessly through the vast white world I'm lost in.

Walking later. I hope to burn some good calories.

06 October 2009


Why am I talking to you? Did I really start this conversation?

So, I'm texting my ex boyfriend. Why?
Not eating is getting to my head.
I'm going utterly insane. I really am.

But yeah.
I'm crazy. That's all there is to it.
That's what anorexia does to you. Takes over your mind and makes you crazy.
I'm crazy. That's all there is to it.

No food today.

Love you,

05 October 2009

Made Of Dust

I decided to eat a bit today to keep myself from binging. Only a meal though.
And lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of drinks. I had a few bites of a veggie burger (sans un petit pain) with onion, tomato and pickle. I caved and had all of like, five fries, and maybe a sixth of a piece of angel food cake.
Even with the absolutely miniscule protions im having, I still feel really guilty.
She lives with a broken mind...

Update: Eric Forced me to eat a piece of coffee cake. I'm so angry.
And then guess what I did!
I really do. Really, and truly. I migh throw out all my food.
That sounds like a plan...

Fasting tomorrow.
I will do it.
I will.
I will.
I will.

First bridge to cross:
Stop fucking being PMS-y and bloated. You retain. EVERYFUCKINGTHING.
I'm talking six pounds water weight.
Quit breaking fast, Margaret! You're getting fatter by the second.
Get thin. Please oh please oh please pleas please be thin.

l- 1/8 veggie patty, five fries, 1/6 piece of angel food cake (71)
s-piece of coffe cake (390)
total: 461

Love you,

04 October 2009

And They Become Dust



Why do I keep bingeing?!

Love you,

But Bricks Break and Crumble.

Today, I am falling apart.

I binged last night. I ate everything. I was out of control. I couldn't purge, they were too many people around. I'm so unbelievably angry at myself. I'm having urges to revert back to old habits; the old habits that at one point in my life almost killed me. Things can't fall apart. They just can't.
Roommate asks during my binge:
"How the hell do you stay so skinny when you eat all the fucking time?!"
I looked at her, with one of those "if looks could kill..." looks. I was angry at myself, at her, at the world.

Why do I do this to myself?! Why do I binge? Why am I cursed to be an eternal fatass?
I need to fast. I miss it. I want to feel that lightness, that beautiful emptiness.

I had a dream last night about weighing myself. I weighed 122 again, like I did back in February. I was screaming and crying and shaking and hitting the scale with my fat little fists. I was doing the things I used to do back in February, only this time I think I did die. I remember crumpling on the bathroom floor and everything going black. And then it was gone. Everything was gone.

So the two-day juice fast starts today, thank God.

I'll be thin again soon enough.

Love you,

03 October 2009

Made Of Bricks

Today, I am strong.

I ate, reluctanly. But I ate almost kind of (probably not really..) like a normal person. I am bloated and I feel sick and fat, but I did it. Kind of.

Lunch with mother was okay. She force fed me chex mix, and she lectured me on my weight some more and how I looked like a little refugee in my size zero jeans that are now falling off of me. But I took it like a man; I didn't listen. I didn't want to get all upset and have my day ruined.
I went shopping, and got a lovely new (enormous!) purse, some new tights, a hat with a feather in it, a flannel shirt that's delightfully oversized, a pair of shoes, and a pretty blazer. What would we do without retail therapy?

I can't take another meal today; I'm still working up my digestive strength. I'm also going on a two-day juice fast starting tomorrow to cleanse my system of all that nasty food I ate this weekend, and after that, nothing but fruits and veggies for me!
I'm working on some sort of plan. I'll let you all know when I figure it out.

b- 0
l- teriyaki vegetables, spring rolls, 1/2 a frozen yogurt (317)
d- 0
s- 100 calorie pack, chex mix (256)
e- walking 45 min. (-138)
total: 435

Love you,

02 October 2009

Mothers Do As Mothers Will.

So, my mom came up for dinner tonight. She's here in the city for the night.
The first thing she did was comment on my declining weight...it came up in conversation quite a few times. It was really awkward and uncomfortable and I wanted to cry the whole time.
She and I went to a fusion place, they serve Mexican and Japanese food. I had a mexican salad consisting mostly of fruit and salsa and lettuce and beans. I skipped the sour cream and the guac. It was one of those gigantic numbers, where the waiter comes out with a whole platter full of salad and expect you to feel healthy after eating all five hundred calories of it.
I ate half of it.
My mom watched me carefully while I ate; I think she did more watching me eat than actually eating. I tried my best to eat like a normal person. The last thing I want is to be put into some god-forsaken clinic.
It was really painful, expanding my stomach that much after having it be completely empty for nearly five days. It still really hurts. I told myself I wouldn't purge.
I tried to as soon as I got back, of course. I broke down curled up around the toilet.
I couldn't make it come up.
So, I went to the gym and worked out for an hour. I spent an entire forty five minutes, half crying from disgust, pain, and the number I saw on the scale, on the eliptical and fifteen doing my abs. Do you know how hard it is to run on the eliptical machine and cry at the same time? The saddest part is that I didn't even try to stop crying because I'm convinced it burned more calories than just ellipticals alone.
I'm eating lunch tomorrow with my mom. Please wish me luck.

And- thank you all so much for the support and love. I can't tell you all how touched I was to get all your sweet comments. I love you all very, very much! You're amazing, truly.
I'm trying hard to get myself a little more healthy...but I don't know. I feel disgusted with myself about how self destructive I am sometimes, yet I can't stop. I'll never be thin enough.

I'm still a bloated mess.

b- 0
l- 0
d- mexican salad(223)
e- weights and ellipical (-265)
total: -42

Love you,

Fast Fest, day five.

Final day of fasting.

I'm hungry; I'm hungrier than I've ever been, but food, even just the way it looks, is disgusting to me right now. I could hardly choke down a glass of water at breakfast today.
While we were walking to breakfast, I realized that he has changed with the season. There's something about him that's different; I can't put my finger on it. I'm not sure if I like it.

We were sitting at our usual table outside, surrounded by the cold, the beautiful, wonderous magical cold. I was shivering violently.
"Want some waffle?"
I shook my head no.
"You sure?"
Again, I shook my head.
"What about some grapes? Or pineapple?"
"No, I'm fine."
"You'd be warmer if you ate every now and then. I haven't seen you eat since...I don't even remember when."

He looked at me with those eye of his, those piercing blue eyes. The ones that look right into me, look right through me sometimes, searching me throughout. They break through my shell and read me. They see every flaw; they point it out. They tell me I'm sick. They know that I'm sick.
"Please, Margaret. Just eat a bite."
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'll be okay; just don't worry about it, okay?"
Please. Please stop worrying about it. There's nothing you can do.

I look sick. My cheekbones protrude, and I feel like my eyes have become sullen. My skin is greying. You can see the blue outlines of my veins in my hands, my arms, my hips, my face. I feel sick. I'm so incredibly weak. I can hardly make it up a flight of stairs; I'm always headache-y and dizzy. My fingernails and toenails are blue. I'm cold, no matter what I do. My hair is falling out. I'm getting lanugo on my back and face. I am sick.
I have let this disease take over me. But I don't want it to leave me either. I won't let it.

I am truly afraid of what might happen to me.

My parents are coming up this weekend. They won't be happy.

Love you,

01 October 2009

Fast Fest, day four, part two: The Great Fall

Today's been pretty shitty for such a pretty, fasting, light, light, light day.
When I weighed today, I was 90.3. Lowest ever. In a way, I'm beaming with pride, but I'm also slightly disgusted with myself. I have no idea why. It's like I want to keep shrinking, but it make me sick to do this to myself. But it makes me sicker when I don't. Im just really confused right now, I guess.
There's a chance I could be in the eighties by tomorrow. Woohoo?
I end my fast on Saturday. But I might keep going. I think I'll just see how I'm feeling. I'll keep on fasting, but then if I really have to eat, I'll have a salad or something.
I feel absolutely horrible right now. I want to shrivel up and disappear forever. Maybe I will one of these days.
One of these days...

So new weight means new stats and a new weight goal. One that kind of scares me.
weight- 90.3lbs.
bmi- 16.3
gw- 86lbs.

Tummy today... a little bloated from all the water I've been drinking. I still want to be thinner...I have to be thinner.

Love you,

Fast Fest, day four.

I woke up in an unreasonably good mood this morning, despite the fact that I'm incredibly weak, and dizzy, and achey. I feel light and free, and empty and beautiful, for once in my life. I don't even want food anymore. Thinking about eating triggers my gag reflex a little. I feel so clean; I can't ruin the clean feeling with a big, fat grease stain.
Oh, fall. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...
When I walked with him to eat breakfast, or rather to watch him eat, I felt fall for the first time. There isn't fall in my hometown. There is hot, sticky summer for most of the year, then a few weeks of winter then summer starts again. Where I live now, we have seasons. Winter, spring, summer, and fall. Fall is so beautiful. I was deliriously cold while we sat together. I was shivering and smiling like a maniac. It was almost magical.
I still haven't unthawed.

Be my friend.
Hold me; wrap me up.
Unfold me;
I am small and needy.
Warm me up,
and breathe me.

Love you,

30 September 2009

To My Stomach:

I am getting quite a few noise complaints from the neighbors.
You really enjoy attention, don't you? So, now that I can't feel you being hungry, you have to go and scream about it. If you don't quiet down, drastic meaures will be taken.
Please shut the hell up.
Thank you kindly.
Your landlady,

Fast Fest, day three: Российский день! (Russian day!)

Я только хочу, чтобы Вы держали меня, в то время как я сплю; я хочу, чтобы Вы сказали мне, что все будет хорошо, даже если это не будет хорошо. Я буду все еще верить Вам, потому что я люблю Вас.

I was up with a horrid headache until four thirty last night. I went to the nurse to get my dailies, and she took one look at me and said, "You look horrible. You should rest and take it easy until your afternoon classes."
I could have kissed that woman. I'm tired, cranky, and I just want to sleep, and that's what I get to do until the dreaded Art History this afternoon. Well, at least it's only two hours long, and not four...
(insert tired and disgruntled mumbling sound here)

So, Art history wasn't that bad today. although my teacher's kind of crazy and she yelled at me for no apparent reason, which really upset me, but I blame the fasting entirely.

But there is one thing I have got to stop doing; hoarding food. I have like seven boxes of really weird food I'm never going to eat, and like thirteen boxes of junk food I also won't ever eat. It's really breaking my wallet. I spent twenty-five dollars today at Publix. I bought a bag of chips, swiss rolls, mozzarella & mushroom veggie burgers, reese's cups, sugar cookies, choclate chip cookies, tomato trinity, potato salad and mac 'n cheese. I'm fasting for christ's sake! Ugh.

But on a lighter note (you're so punny! hahahaha.) I weighed in today...
weight- 93 lbs
BMI- 16.74

I'm quite happy about that.

Love you,
a very tired, headache-y and light Margie.

29 September 2009

Fast Fest, day 2, part 2: Margie v. Guacamole & There Will Be Cake...And Blood.

HUZZAH, I AM VICTORIOUS! No guac for me, thanks!
Although I did kind of do the whole, "Well, I'm not going to eat any guac myself, but is it cool with you if I watch you eat it? I mean, I know it kinda creeps you out and all, but whatever," deal. And it sure smelled nice. Wow, it smelled good.
Okay. Done with that.

But, the temptation gets worse. Cake.
Today is my suitemate's birthday, so we're going to the park to have cake.
I plan on drinking around three cans of Diet Coke in around fifteen minutes so I'll feel disgusting and won't even want to look at the cake.

I will stay strong! (insert some sort of battle cry here)
And to all you other fast-ers: you stay strong too! (another battle cry)

No cake for me, thanks!

Yesssss. No cake is good.
You're happy when you're empty. You're light when your empty. You're happy when you're light.
You'll be thin soon enough. Soon enough.

Love you,

Fast Fest, day two.

So far I'm doing alright. I'm not craving right now, but man, was I yesterday.
Er made me go to the grocer's with him, and I was all over the place.
I was actually rather enjoying myself, kind of. Well. Enough.
I wanted soup so bad. Something really cheesy and rice-y. Anyways, Eric had to grab me by the wrist and pull me away from somethings, he said I was freaking people out, and that normal people don't pick up every can of soup/bag of chips/box of cheesecake/can of refried beans/block of cheese/bar of chocolate/what-have-you and walk around the store once with it, smelling it while gnawing on a tube of toothpaste, and then put it back in the wrong place.
At one point I was even chewing on my own finger.
But the first day is the day where I'm most ravenous and food crazy.
Days two and three are the ones where I feel tired and depressed.
After that, I'm home free. (Ahg, sounds way too much like home fries...which I smell right now. I think I'm imagining it though...STOPTHINKINGABOUTFOODMARGARET!)
Okay, maybe I get a little crave-y.

Oh, Christ.
Holy guacamole, Batman. I just remembered that my 2d teacher claims to make the best guac ever and that he's bringing it today for class.
I have to sit in close proximity to a big, whopping bowl of my most favourite food maybe in the whole world for four fucking hours straight.
Great. Just great. Fabulous.
Freak out, freak out, freak out.
And knowing me, I'll do something really weird/embarassing. Like stand over the guacamole and smell it, and look at it with my mouth opened accidentally. Or even better, reach for a chip, then realize what I'm doing, and hit my own hand away from the bowl and scream, "NO!" That always gets a few looks.


I'll let you know how I do.
It's gonna be a long day.

Love you,

28 September 2009

11:11 PM.

Make a wish.
I wish that I was beautiful.
I wish that things would get better more quickly.
I wish people didn't have to die.
I wish that I didn't put off everything until last minute.
I wish that relationships weren't so complicated and confusing.
I wish that two people could be in love and that was that.
I wish I was thin.
I wish a lot of things.
I wish too many things.

Sometimes I begin to believe that that's all life is becoming. Wishes.

Love you,

27 September 2009


I'm fasting again as of Tuesday, because I ate so fucking much this weekend.
I guess I'll just call it preparation for a five day fast.

So lets do some math:
After two days of fasting, my body turns to itself (my heaps of fat) for sustainance. After that, the average person loses about a pound a day. If I fast from Tuesday morning to Saturday night, five days, that should be a about three pounds. Ninety-one pounds. Thats sounds so beautiful. Ninety-one. Ninety-one. Ninety-one.

I'm not even going to add up this weekend's calories; I'll end up having a major freak-out/purge-fest. So to keep myself occupied from my horrid self indulgence, I curled my hair. And I really like it curly.

I'm so so so full. I want to cry. I would, if I wasn't about to go pose for my friend some more.

I don't know why I get used as a model; I really don't think I'm pretty, I'm short as anything, and I'm horribly awkward in front of the camera. I never know what to do. I just kind of look at it with a lost and slightly disgruntled expression, and he loves it.

Anyways. Off to the studio.
I'll leave you with a picture of my curly hair.

Love you, Margie.
self-esteem=zero. Zero point fucking zero zero zero. Actually, more like negative fifteen thousand, nine hundred forty eight.
So, tonight I get up on the scale. The needle rockets up. I slide the bottom weight to fifty, the top to forty five. Nothing. Ninety five is too light. I slide it up to forty six, nothing. Seven. Eight. Nine. One hundred. The needle moves. It centres.
My heart is litterally about to fall out of my ass. I get pale.
"NO! That's not right. It's not right. No. No. No."
It gets better. I start to cry. No, not by myself, in the comfort of my own bathroom. I start to cry in the middle of a crowded hall, filled with my piers and classmates. My best friend, Er, sat with his arm around me, trying his best to convince me that that particular scale is off by five pounds, and that the scale in the fitness centre is right. I still couldn't believe him. Just seeing that number on the scale, wrong or not, got to me. Iwanted to die. I really did. He went into the whole, "Margie, you are so thin. You really are. And even if you weren't, it wouldn't matter. You worry all of us, and I know you know that. And besides, you haven't even gained any weight! I saw last time you weighed yourself! That scale is off, and don't say it's not. The nurse said so herself." By now, I had several more people gathered around me, rubbing my arms, and putting their hands on my knees, offering me those cliche words of "comfort," the words that make me want to hit somebody: "Oh, Margaret, you're so skinny. You're so pretty." I hate them.
I hate everyone.
I hate me.

Dear God:

If you're out there and if you're listening, I'd really like for you to do the following for me, if it isn't too much trouble.

1) Please stop making my little sister so darn sweet, and keep her from buying me giant Reese's cups.
2) Please, somehow or another, make Mexican food fall off the face of the planet. (Or you could always just give me at least an ounce or two of self control.)
3) Make me stop eating so darn much so I'd stop having to ram my fingers down my throat and taking so many laxies.
4) Please keep me from buying food, so I might actually have some money every once in a while.
5) Please, if you can't do any of those, just make me thin.

Hope that isn't too much trouble.


26 September 2009

You Know You're Sick When:

You go to visit your dying grandmother in the hospital, who has cancer related anorexia and only weighs about eighty-five pounds; you find yourselve looking at her arms, grey, her blue veins tied up in knots around her meatless bones, and you feel a pang of jealousy.

You ask yourself: Why can't I be that thin?

And then you realize just how messed up and sick you are.
So you go into bathroom down the hall and cry.

Love you,

25 September 2009


If I were to describe today in a word, it would be binge.

Look how fucking bloated I am. And my arms look enormous. I utterly loathe myself right now.

Love you,


24 September 2009

Apres Moi, Le Deluge.

Gosh, I've eaten so much today.
I feel icky and full.
Although, I don't regret the mini fruit binge I went on.
I love fruit almost as carrots.
Especially orange.
What is it with me and orange foods?!

We ate breakfast together again today, you had a waffle. I had my little bowl, filled to the brim with assorted fruits.
He put a forkful of his syrup covered waffle in front of my nose. "I know want some of my delicious waffle, don't you?" He said.
He has the whitest teeth.
"Nah, I'm good with my fruit."
"Come on! Eat it. You know you want to..." He moved it to closer to my mouth.
I dodged it at first, but then he got me, right under my nose.
I still smell like syrup.

We ate sushi tonight.
I ate way too much; he looked worried cause I didn't eat everything on my plate, even though I had been eating off of his.
"Why don't you ever finish your food?"
"I just don't like eating too much, and I already ate too much already."
"You never eat enough. You're looking even smaller."
Secretly I glowed inside, but I frowned at him.
"I can't help it. It's just the way I am."
And I'm not gonna change it.
"I worry about you sometimes."

b- assorted fruit (62)
l- two rice cakes with salsa and cheese (140)
d-12 pieces sushi (290)
e-brisk walking, 45 minutes (-188)
total: 304

23 September 2009


Is how much I currently weigh!
I can tell I've lost inches too, my jeans are looking really saggy.
I'll try to get a picture up ASAP.
I'm so happy.
I'm going for a five day fast in two weeks.

Current Stats:
Height: 5'2.5" (158.8 cm)
Weight: 94.5 lbs (42.8 kg)
BMI: 16.9

b- 1/4 waffle (90)
l- tomato basil soup (80)
d-orange (40)
s-crackers, sprinkles & cereal (250)
e-stairs and an hour of brisk walking (-223)
total: 200