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,
Margaret.

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...
Stats:
weight- 93 lbs
BMI- 16.74

I'm quite happy about that.

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

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.
OHMYGOSHGUACAMOLEGUACAMOLEGUACAMOLEGUACAMOLE.
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,
Margie.

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.

CURSES TO YOU, MEXICO, FOR MAKING YOUR FOOD SO DAMN GOOD!

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

Love you,
Margie.

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,
Margie.

Frustrated.

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.
Update:
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.

Thanks,
Margie.

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,
Margie.

Why?

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,

Margie.

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."
"Don't."

Food:
b- assorted fruit (62)
l- two rice cakes with salsa and cheese (140)
d-12 pieces sushi (290)
s-0
e-brisk walking, 45 minutes (-188)
total: 304

94.5

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

Food:
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

Why Is It So Easy To Feel Accomplished & Ashamed At The Same Time?

So, I can officially say that I had a successful three day fast.
I'm so proud that I actually did it, and didnt even consider breaking it.
However, after eating breakfast this morning, I feel horribly ashamed and full.

He saw the worry in my eyes as I picked over my waffle today.
He gave me another one of his looks.
I sighed loudly and looked down at the buttery mess that was my waffle,
and took a small bite, finishing the quarter.
I chewed it thirty two times.
And then we left.

Love you,
Margie.

Craving.

I'm craving like a pregnant woman.
We were talking about food during 2d Design today, and I thought I was going to explode.
I actually started to talk about food, and got really excited, to the point where I was nearly yelling about how badly I wanted pizza, and tacos, ramen noodles, and fried cheese sticks and potato chips with guacamole and beans and zebra cakes and baguettes, and cake. And cookies.
If I let my mouth hang open right now, I literally might drool.
It's kind of pathetic.
Crackers sound so good right now.
And burritos. And french fries.
I just can't let this get the best of me.

We ate breakfast together today, and he offered me a forkful of hasbrowns, ready to spoon feed it to me, like I was a little girl again.
I smiled and shook my head no.
He just shrugged his shoulders and said, "You know, breakfast..."
"Is the most important meal of the day. Yeah, I know."
He kind of laughed, and then gave me a look.
I think he knows.

Love you,
Margie.

Sleepless Nights and Your Blue Eyes.

I'm running on nothing but sheer caffeine.
I didn't sleep last night much.
Maybe three hours.
It sounds so nice to me to say,
"I haven't eaten since Saturday night."
I'm gonna try and go until Wednesday.
Maybe longer.
Wish me luck!

Love you,
Margie.

Birds.

Days where I fast always end up being the best days.
I'm deliriously happy, and hungry.
So I listen to my favorite song, and smile all funny and goofy.

Right, birds can fly so high,
and they can shit on your head,
and they can almost fly into your eye,
and make you feel so scared,
but when you look at them
and you see that they're beautiful,

that's how I feel about you.

She said, "What?"
He said, "You."
She said, "What're you talking about?"
He said, "You."

Yeah, birds can fly so high,
and they can shit on your head,
and they can almost fly into your eye,
and make you feel so scared,
but when you look at them
and you see that they're beautiful,

that's how I feel about you.

She said, "Thanks? I like you too."
He said, "Cool."

Love you,
A very happy and giddy Margie.

So Many Things.

There's something about the feeling of fasting that I love.
The feeling of being sustained by only water and diet coke and black coffee.
It's cold and rainy today.
My favorite.

Sometimes I Wonder.

I lost it again.
I was ravenous...
ate yet another sleeve of crackers, but this time along with eight cookies.
I tried to purge but I couldn't.
It just would not come up.
I forgot to buy more laxatives; I'm out.
I'm crying again.

I guess there is a positive to this:
I have no more crackers and no more cookies to eat.

I plan on fasting tomorrow.

Love you,
Margie.

You Are My Sweetest Downfall.

I was ravenous.
Ate a whole sleeve of crackers.
I'm shaking, crying, bloated, full, disgusting.
Someone please just kill me now.

Carrots, Kate Nash and The Taste of Failure.

My perfect day: have carrots for breakfast, finish my homework early [including drawing and 2d homework (yessss!)], get into a lovely argument with a violinist, still have time for a trip to the cafe for a delicious espresso, have a two-and-a-half hour free period where I sit in bed and eat carrots dipped in black-eyed pea hummus for lunch while listening (and singing along) to Kate Nash, and have drawing class to finish it all off.
Not to mention- it's Friday! Huzzah!
Ahh. I'm so stress free and empty and light. Mmm. I feel so great.
Nothing can bring me down today, I promise you. I'm floating; literally walking on a cloud.
I saw back ribs while standing straight up in front of the mirror this morning. I smiled. Big.
And I'm helping a friend with his photography later, and doing some portraits.
Today's wonderful.
And it's all thanks to the power of carrots. My little orange heroes.

Food:
b- two packs of carrots & coffee (75)
l-carrots (35)
d- one miniscule slice of pizza (160) [ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh...]
s- 0
e- one hour of brisk walking (-252)
total: 16

And then someone asked me to go get pizza with them.
I had a small slice. I ate it slowly, cut it up into tiny pieces, chewed every bite thirty-two times each.
A question:
"Wanna finish that slice there?"
"I'm working on it."
A voice says:
You're disgusting, fat, pathetic, etc.
Another question:
"Why don't you just pick it up?"
"I just don't want to."
Another voice:
Sickening. Look at you eat. You cow.

I wanted to lie down, right there in the middle of Bellacino's and die.
I'm tired.

Love you,
Margie.

Veggie-tables.

Today, while applying my make up in front of the air conditioner, with my poor little leggies screaming at me (AHHWE'RESOCOLDOHMYGOODNESSWE'RENUMBPLEASESTOPSTANDING INFRONTOFTHERADIATORAAAHHHH), I made a decision.
I've decided to take after a favorite blogger.
I'm going to eat just vegatables and fruits for the day.
No dairy, no bread products, no beans, no dressing!
Ahhh! Cleansing, eh?
Yes, I'd say so.
And I'm out of diet coke.
I guess all the more excuse to drink water?
Ugh. I need my caffeine.
So it's a good eight hours, give or take, after my decision, and I've stuck too it! (suprisingly...)
I had a lovely salad for lunch: romaine lettuce, shredded carrots, tomatoes, onions and chickpeas!
'Twas delicious. I'm considering skipping dinner.
Hmmm.

Food:
b-0
l-salad (57)
d-coffee (2)
s-carrots (35)
e- thrity min. brisk walking (-126)
total: -32

This afternoon, I bought a truckload of carrots. My favorite!
I'm eating only carrots tomorrow.
And I'm strangely excited about it.
I'm so weird.

Love you,
Margie.

OH MY GOSH GOLLY GOODNESS!

I decided that this deserved it's own post.
Yes, it is that important!
Attending class for 480 minutes, or eight hours a day burns 624 calories!
AHHHH! I never knew this!

Best discovery/epiphany/thing ever.

Okay. Excitement over.
Night all.

Love you,
Margie.

Dammit.

So, as you all know, last night I BINGEBINGEBINGEBINGE'D and then had a lovely purge. As painful as purging is, I've grown to love it. It's that feeling of emptiness and lightness and total purity you feel after purging.

When I weighed myself this morning, that damned scale said that I had gained two pounds. I hope that it's either broken or water weight or something else. Two pounds in a day is impossible isn't it?! Well, I really hope so. I plan on weighing myself after I workout today.
I had an orange for breakfast today. It was gross.
I have no appetite (thank god.)
The thought of consuming anything makes me want to be sick.
I hope it keeps up.

Food:
b- orange (45)
l-orange (45)
d- mexican salad (580)
s-scone (170)
e-walking & stair climbing (-173)
total: 667
TOO MANY CALORIES, MARGARET!!

Weight check follow up:
So, I went and weighed myself in the gym today, and thank god, my scale at home is just broken. I'm at ninety-five point five! Huzzah.

Love you,
Margie.

UGH.

So first, I'll start with the good news.
I lost a pound. Ah, ninety-six feels so great.
I also went to the doctor today, and he was examining my stomach, and noted that I had about two pounds of water weight and constipation.

Bad news.
I decided to get a small, unhealthy snack earlier, and it turned into an enormous binge.
But, I'v taken a few laxatives, so it should be gone pretty darn soon.

love you,
Margie.

Sick.

So, I spent all of last nigh barfing my guts up.
And I got sent home to recover.
Today I have a splitting headache, and cramps.
Luckily, it keeps me from wanting to eat all the damn time.
But of course I ate anyway.
Ugh.

Food:
b- 0
l- 16 oz of sprite (192)
d- 7 saltines, 1/4 cup of applesauce (120)
total: 312

This Is The Price You Pay For Loss of Control.

This is me. You look and see thin; I look and see enormous.

I really wish this was me.

Remember?

Remeber way back when, when you could eat anything and everything, all the time and never gain anything?
I do.
I miss it more than almost anything.
Anyways. Today was alright. I chewed and spit for like three hours. It was amazing.

Food:
b- half a waffle (93)
l- crab cakes, fries & 1/3 of a cup of chocolate mousse (488)
d- 0
s- 0
e- 75 min. of light cardio, taking the stairs & brisk walking downtown (-542)
total: 39

love you,
Margie.

Honestly, Sometimes.

So, I realized that I really didn't tell anyone about myself in my first post. So I've decided to do that in this one.
The name's Margie. I'm nearly seventeen. I attend a boarding school for the fine arts as a Visual Artist. It's maybe the best thing that has ever happened to me. Watching the dancers float around everyday is tough though. They're all so thin, but they can eat whatever they like. It isn't fair.
I've had anorexia for a while now, about a year.
I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but I have a hunch.
Long story short, I lost about thirty pounds, and then I gained ten of it back in the past month.
So, right now, I'm pretty frustrated with myself. He is too; he worries about me constantly. I feel bad for upsetting him, but I just can't help it. He's sweet and understanding though, and I love that very much.
Anyways, my favorite things to do, as of now are:
Art.
Excercise.
Cook.
Yeah, basically.
But. I've got drawing homework to do.
More later.


***

Back. So, turns out that I didn't just have five drawings to turn in today, but five pages (front & back) of drawings. Ugh, now I'm quite stressed.
Anyways, I had an orange for a snack earlier, to keep my blood sugar up...which I'm angry about.
I'm going to dinner tonight with a friend, sushi to be specific. I'm already all jittery and planning things out, already counting. I tire myself sometimes.

Food:
b- 1/4 of a waffle and black coffee (50)
l- diet coke & hard candy (25)
d- four pieces california roll and miso (170)
s- orange(45)
e- stair climbing and walking everywhere (-180)
total: 139

love you,
Margie.

Hello World.

I'm Margie.
16.
Anorexic.

I'm not proana. That's a mistake.
I'm also not one of those bullshit "anorexic" and proana bloggers, who decided, "Hey, I'm gonna be anorexic. Anorexia is cool!" You know the kind. The girl who thinks she needs a diet, so she decides to "become" anorexic. That's just what I call being a total dumbass.

Anyways.
Stats as of today.

Food:
b: Piece of hard candy (25)
l: 1/2 a Veggie Sandwich with a 1/2 slice of bread (50)
d: Veggie sandwich with 1 slice of bread, 2 cups granola, low fat kettle chips (450)
s: 1/2 a pbj [goddammit] (155)
e: 1 hr 15 min Tae Bo (-850)
total: -170.

Weight & Junk:
w: 97lbs
bmi: 17.46

love you.
Margie.