let me ask you this

This isn't a unique and wonderful theory I have come up with all by myself, but it is one I have been seriously thinking about recently. Are all people with eating/weight problems (those that have body dysmorphia, anorexia, ednos and bulimia to some extent - basically all eating disorders other than obesity); do they hold ridiculous ideals for themselves? Do they hold themselves up to a higher standard than they do other people?

Are we all chronic over-achievers?

I have been a chronic over-achiever since I was very young. I learnt to walk before most kids and insisted on walking everywhere whilst my peers were pushed around in prams. I learnt to add, multiply and divide before I was out of nursery. At the age of 9 I had a very strong and distinct image of how I would be when I was 15. That image didn't exactly come true (no I didn't have a wonderful boyfriend whom I loved as did everyone else, no I wasn't head girl with perfect grades, a published author and accepted into Cambridge 3 years early). The images became more and more wild and wonderful and they continue to do so. I haven't succeeded in any of them thus far, although every once in a while I will suddenly realise I feel amazing, I look amazing and I am content and I flick back to my 9 year old self and look up at me now and realise that I'm doing pretty alright for myself.

But is ignorance really bliss? My first doctor told me I need to stop setting impossible targets for myself as it was a problem. I mentioned this in one of the therapy groups I had to attend and it was reported back to me that this isn't true. That goals are really very good for you. Sometimes I think I would be a lot happier if I didn't care and dream so much, but I can't get my head around having that mindframe in the first place! Do I try and tone it down? Will this be translated by my psyche as defeat and my self-worth eroded even further?

You are what you are, I guess.

bloodbuzz ohio

I had a couple of triggers tonight. I guess I have been searching for something to push me over the edge and, well, unintentionally I got them. I was in the neighbourhood where I used to live tonight. I walked past the counsellors' office and the doctors where I was diagnosed (whatever that means) last year. I went to a gig venue and stood in the exact same spot where I stood with *him* (see first post). It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. In fact I had completely ceased to associate this part of town with him and being ill last summer and so when I went and was reminded it was all quite weird. Inside I curled up small in a little ball and covered my ears and eyes, but outside I was perfectly serene. I have eaten a LOT. Two curries this weekend. Chocolate. Crisps. I'm going to start with giving up bread, drinking tonnes of water and sleeping lots. I hate food, I hate feeling full and heavy and wide. I need to get back to how I used to be. Cravings and hunger are horrible things - but would I rather satsify them or be thin? I want to feel clean and empty again.

I hope everyone's doing good and staying strong xo

sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare

I haven't danced with bulimia since last August (thought I would clarify, my last post might have seemed a little vague!). It made me pretty ill. More so than starving myself silly, actually (doctor's words).

I slipped tonight, I ate and ate. It was good food - not crisps and sweets but filling and healthy Italian but that still doesn't change things. I slipped up yet again. I need to maintain my focus on exactly what it is I want. Maybe I need to spell out more? Maybe that will make it real. I feel so silly saying it, but what I want is to be so very light and elegant. I don't want to make a single noise when I walk. I want to be able to wear short shorts without worrying that the dimples in the tops of my thighs are showing. I want to be thought of as beautiful on a unianimous scale. I want to model and be celebrated. I want to be successful. And the thing is - I know all of these things can happen for me. They *should* all happen. I just need the gap between my thighs to widen a little bit more. I need discipline. The starting is always so much harder than everything else and I really haven't started yet. I haven't started since December when I got to 110 and then blew it all for a chance to be one of those girls 'who eats so much but never gains weight' (and you guessed it, I gained 8lbs). fdjgelrs;dwltrf. I wish I would get into that mindset already. So jealous of you all who are there in that place.

live as you dream

Keep your eyes on the prize, dolls.

Do you really need that can of full-sugar Coke when there's a Diet Coke sitting right next to it that's not going to stick straight onto your hips? Do you really, really need that blueberry muffin, skinny or not, when you could hover around that tickling feeling in the base of your stomach for a couple more hours, knowing that you were strong and in control by the way you feel lighter and dizzier by the second?

I am a hypocrite but I need to start asking myself these questions a little more often. I am dehydrated and tired. These things push me to eat and drink things I don't really want and take me further and further away from what I want to be.

Bulimia is never the answer; it just doesn't work. Neither does jumping straight from a binge to starvation. It really does have to be gradual process. I have had about 1400 calories today and I'm just about to go to the gym to burn off 400 of them. I'm okay with this for now because I know it's the only way.

back in black

I'm back! Have missed you lovelies a lotlotlot. I missed having somewhere to record everything down, too. Egypt was wonderful. Saw a lot of amazing things and got a pretty good tan. Didn't manage to lose the weight I wanted though - got my favourite time of the month the day after I arrived and we were doing so much travelling I found myself needing full-sugar Coke just to avoid passing out. I found myself back to a lovely round 115lbs though this morning. I jumped on the weighing scales at the airport in Egypt (you know, the ones at the check-in desks that weigh your luggage then zoom it off to who-knows-where because it had been 7 whole days since I had last weighed myself and I just couldn't wait any longer) and it told me I was 53kg. A bunch of people I had met shouted 'anorexic' at me which was mildly ironic. Not quite, loves, not quite. 53 is pretty disgusting for me. Kilogram isn't my favourite way of measuring my weight (does that sound weird?!), but if I had to pick a metric value it would be around 48. This could be indicative that my obsession with numbers is beginning again, but, for now, the aim is still 105lbs and I'm still hoping to achieve this by the end of May.