Fly far, far away...

   I am moving to another city next summer/fall. My mom got a job there, so she's taking us with her. Doesn't this always happen? Someone gets into deep shit and then pulls everyone else down there. I will leave my friends, my school, everything and everyone. I am a mess.

   Moreover, my parents have found my pills: Nurofen, Sedatif PC and Dulcolax. They lectured me and the bitch was so desperate to see them, "show them to me, show them to me, you are destroying me, i am your mother!!!" Actually, dad went through my things without my permission and that's how he found them. Fucked asshole, how could he look through my private stuff? They were well-hidden. So they made me promise I will throw them away. I said I will. I have taken all of the boxes and emptied their contents into a small bag. I am not stupid, I am obviously not throwing away my pills. It was very difficult to get that money from them and buy pills.

   And they expect me to trust them.

   Get out of my way, I will ruin your lives just like you ruined mine. How dare you force me to move to another city?

   "I know that you are mature enough to know that you should not take pills if they are not prescribed." No, I am, in fact, mature enough to know that DEATH is the only way out, taking those pills will hopefully kill me one day, or this eating disorder, or anything. I am mature enough to understand that I can't get out alive.

   You can't fire me, I quit. This Friday.

   (No, I'm not attempting suicide. Just a long, long sleep.. 34 sedatives and 4800 mg (12 pills x 400 mg) of ibuprofen should work. Oh, and 10-15 laxatives.

   Sing me to sleeeeeeeep..

No idea...

   I feel very confused at the moment.

   I have been purging everything I'd eaten. I lost weight and reached a BMI of 19.5, which is lower than I have been lately. And It felt.. okay. I could not stay away from food, but I didn't binge, either. I purged what I ate. My throat hurts and I can no longer purge, since I'm very used to it now. I have taken 20 paxatives today. I have probably eaten a bit more, but my weight is the same as in the morning. I have gained probably one kilo from not purging yesterday. I feeeel.. awful.

   Not because of the gain. But because I am psychologically messed up.

   I keep dreaming of him, I want to get him out of my mind. I hate the fact that I obsess so much about him. I don't want to be with him again. I can even accept the idea that he might be seeing other girls now (though I don't have any evidence). I... I don't know. I want to die, to fade away, to have never been born. To have never had an eating disorder, to have never been depressed, to have never done anything, never, anything. Sometimes I wish I were just an average person, with a bunch of friends and superficial and dumb and ugly and just a stupid bitch whom everyone would hate. That would be better because bitches are stupid and don't give a fuck about what people think about them, they don't care that they are stupid and attention-seeking and all that.

   I want sedatives.

   Last week, I took some "sedatives" (they are called Sedatif PC, so I guess they're some sort of sedatives) and had such a good sleep. Last year, on the 12th of October, he and I were officially together. I also had my first therapy appointment on that day. Since I am the kind of person who "celebrates" things like that, I wanted to take 34 (all that's left) of those pills. They are harmless, but I think and hope that they will bring me to wonderland. I can't do that next weekend (the 12th is on Friday), so it's planned for the week after that. Sedatives, Nurofen (risk of ulcers..? Who cares? -- I am sarcastic here, I don't want ulcers, but the idea of doing harm to myself is tempting), probably some beer and probably some laxatives. I just hope I won't sleep too well and wake up surrounded by.. you know, the thing that happens when you take laxatives.

   And I've already written too much. Have a nice day and hope that just breathing will magically kill me.

The joys of having an ED

WARNING: If you are easily disgusted, you should better stay away from this post. At least the first paragraph will be about *drums please* pooping.

   Because I don't eat, abuse laxatives (one lax-free week! wooo!), purge what I eat and so on and so forth, getting that little bastard out of your body will be a little bit worse than hell. You will sit there, pushing and pushing, hoping you will never give birth -- because it hurts so badly. It will stick there, it won't come out. You can't get it out, so the only option would be to push it back (yes. push it back) and hope you'll poop some other time. You will take some toilet paper and send the poo back inside. OR, still using the paper, you will try to dig your finger inside and get "the little bastard" out. Nothing will work. You will push and push, trying to get it out, but every time you do it, you will get dizzy because of all the blood going up in your head. You will want to die. You will bleed. You will be sore. You won't be able to pee (oh, the joys of that..). You will eventually have to use laxatives and mess up everything again.

   Enough with that.

   I am dreaming of myself and my ex every. single. night. Kissing, talking, lovely words, romantic walks. Everything we used to have. I love the dreams, but once I am awake, they will turn into one more thing that is worse than hell. I cried today at the church. I was hoping that my two little cousins will never have eating disorders. That they will never have to go through what I am. I hope that they will never literally understand me. Then, after I came home, I cried listening to love songs.

   My throat is messed up again. I have only eaten on 4 days this week (Tuesday, Thursday and the weekend) -- the first ones were restricted anyways, especially Thursday (2 Maoam stripes. A LOT, right?! *sarcasm*) That's not even "real" food, but I counted it. I think I have lost 4 pounds, but the weight is probably back on. Can't we just.. skip the weekends?! Gahh. Tomorrow I'm turning back to not eating, because I don't eat on week days, but then I'll probably binge again during the weekend.

   Or not. Because yesterday I went to a friend's birthday party and that's why I gained.

   I want to take Nurofen and laxatives and sedatives. The last ones are only supposed to make you sleep better and I'm pretty sure they have no dangerous side effects if taken too many of them. They are not liek actual sleeping pills (which you only get with a prescription). A pill cocktail with some beer. The kind of beer I used to drink with him. We were officially together on the 12th of October, but my theater group and I are performing a play on that weekend, so I might just do it sooner. I like to "celebrate" this kind of stuff.

   Have a good night. Or whatever.

A bunch of stories I find ironically hilarious

   A few days ago, we had a "family talk." Dad brought us all together: me, mom and little brother sitting on the couch and he in front of us. He started thanking us for such a great vacation, in which we had both "good" and "bad" times (read: our fights, caused by my mistakes, obviously). He thanked especially our mom, because "she paid the entire thing." Give me a break... Also, "this year was financially harder for us, because these 3 weeks of visiting other countries were quite expensive" ("oh, not to mention having to redecorate this bitch's room, what an ungrateful little girl she is" -- they didn't say it, but I think they have at least thought about it). He told us to be respectful, to stay less on the internet, to clean up our rooms and wash the dishes.. After which, turning to me, he told "us" (no, he only meant to say it to me): "If you ever have a problem, you should come to us first. We are your parents and know what's best for you. We will always be here for you, unlike your friends or anyone else. If you have a problem, you discuss it with us, don't try to solve it on your own or with God knows whose help." Excuse meeee? At that moment, I started to laugh hysterically. I laughed for a long time. "When I look at you now, I see myself when my parents told me these things. You'll see, you'll do the same with your kids." To quote my beloved ex, "It's better to show things than to say them." If I'll tell you I have cramps, will you even hear me? Or will you wait until you have to get me to the ER? (It happened)

   Hmm, let me see, one more. Mom cooked yesterday. Lunch and dinner, huge amounts of food. Well, not huge. Just enough for the entire family. And I ate. And ate and ate and ate, because you know what, "I'll purge anyways." Right before puking, I weighed 62.3 (137). After that, I weighed 60.9 (134). Purged 3 lbs, ok. I had taken laxatives a few hours ago. In the morning, after the lax-effect, I weighed *drums please* 59.6  (131). This, my dear ladies, is how to lose weight overnight. Write it down in your tips&tricks notebook. (<-- obvious joke). I feel safe now..
 
   My therapist seems to not want to see me anymore. She made me decide until Thursday. It's because I can't speak, I can't find a way to speak out my thoughts. There are so many racing through my mind that I can't even speak out loud. She thinks that, because I'm not cutting (this was the only thing she was ever worried about, since my ED is just a "diet"), I am doing so much better. Well, I cut a few days ago on my ribs and inner thighs and lower abdomen, and I hit myself again with my toothbrush. I felt normal again. How can she give up on me when my cutting has decreased, but my ED is taking a turn for the worse? Gahh. She also said that, during this summer, I have been doing so much better with my self-harm. Excuse me? Remember in July, when I have cut the deepest I have ever cut? Remember when I was taking way too much Nurofen (ibuprofen) only to harm myself? Remember the sitting on window sills, remember every-fucking-thing? How can she only see the full half of the glass? She's the nicest lady I've ever met, but God, does she annoy me sometimes.

   I'll finish here, before I remember anything else, because this post is already long enough. I'll post pictures of my new room tomorrow.

Laxieversary

   I feel so stupid for writing that title. I'm the kind of person who writes down everything. First purge, first day without food, first time I took laxatives. It was one year ago, just a few days before school started. I think.

   In the morning, I went to get my legs&etc waxed. I knew I had to buy laxatives after that. Laxatives - what a wicked, strange and new term. The pharmacy was just a few minutes away. I walked inside and axed  asked if they had Dulcolax. The lady said that yes, they had. I asked her to give me one box. I paid and walked away. I had tears in my eyes and I felt sorry, because I knew it was wrong. But I had to take laxes, I just had to.

   As soon as I got home, I took three of them. I was in awful, excruciating, death-inducing,  I'll-never-do-this-again, pain for the rest of the day/night. I also remember that I had a volleyball game the next day, and the lax were still "working." It was embarrassing, because I had to use the toilet a lot and I had cramps and -- it was just awful. I swore never to take them again, even if being empty felt so good. I felt like a snowflake. Cold, light, white, fragile.

   Want to hear another awesome lax story? I was in school and hat taken lax the night before, hoping that I'll be done by the time I have to go to school. They didn't start working until 11 AM, while I was in school. I had cramps and wanted to go home. Anyways, I stayed in school until 2 PM, when classes finished. I went home with my boyfriend (now ex. I should do a post on this) and told him I had cramps, so I probably wouldn't be able to stay much with him.  Brace yourselves. Ready? Ok. I had a little accident on the way home. It was really little, but enough to make me want to run away. I hope he didn't smell anything, God. If I think about it, a normal person would laugh their asses off at this, and I would too, but I can't. I was so insecure, thankfully we were close to my home. AND, thankfully-er, he saw his mom across the street. We couldn't kiss while she was there, right? I don't want to think how weird it would have been if we had been very physically close to each other. So yes, ladies and gentlemen, this was my awesome, literally shitty experience with laxatives.

   Actually, all laxative experiences are literally shitty.

   Where am I now? Taking 15 laxatives in one round, almost everyday (because it's summer and I don't have to get out of the house). It's a 5 times larger quantity, but there is almost no pain/it is bearable. I am very used to them, that's why, and it is sad.

   By the way. I love Starbucks Caramel Frappucinno! Too bad it's probably 300-400 calories, next time I'll take the light one which is under 100 calories. It's so damn expensive.

I've found a breathtaking, heartbreaking paper.

   I wrote this years ago, while I was still a kid. It breaks my damn heart. It makes me want to cry every single time I read it. I was probably 10 or 11 at that time. It breaks my heart. What I'll write in bold is NOT part of the actual text.

Life's a shit, isn't it? I'm writing these words while swimming in tears. I don't know the sense of life. I never knew it. Always, when I cry... I think: "Why... Why do I exist?" My birth was, is, and will always be a mistake... a big one. I started crying. I was so young. I don't really know... why do I write these words? Maybe to calm down... Maybe I just want to write.. or maybe for no reason. I'm gonna write, why I cry...
I was eating. Now that's awesome, how every single bad thing seems to happen while eating. No wonder I associate everything with it now. My cousin, Ale, wouldn't eat. She was probably 3 or 4. They began to scream at her. I just told 'em to let her do what she wants. Well, not what she wants, but not to force her to eat. She was crying and it broke my heart to see her like that. Then, they told me to shut up. Next, my mom called. She asked me, who I sit next to. In school, that it. Apparently, it was the first week of school. I told her, and it was none of my "BF"'s. Then she told me, they are not true friends if they don't sit next to me. What does she know? Does SHE talk to 'em everyday? No. Then, my "grampies" (haha, grandparents) to wash the plates and stuff (dishes). Am I a slave?! Now, I wouldn't say that today anymore, but they never in their lives asked me to do that. And now, I heard 'em talking 'bout me. Bad things, of course. And now... here's my decision (hope I'll do how I say): (brace yourselves, people.) I don't want to eat anymore. I don't want to care 'bout me anymore. So... I'll write no more. Bye!

   That was it. My eyes were filled with tears when I started typing it. The piece of paper is colored with black pencil, and there are several broken hearts drawn. Even a face of a girl who is crying. Here it is, right in front of you. The proof that I don't have an eating disorder because I want to look good for prom. I knew that not eating would harm me. Now, I don't remember if I actually ate that day or not, but I know there were days when I was a kid when I only ate a slice of bread. Sad, right? Breathtaking. Heartbreaking.

The same

   I am back from the trip. 'twas okay. Ate. Purged. Bleeding throat. yay. And I also cut. Minor cuts. fml

   I want to fade, I want to exercise until 5 AM and take a billion boxes of laxatives, no matter the pain. No matter the pain...

Pretty random, I suppose

   Hey there. Not much has been happening lately. I am on my laptop all day long, I finished a book for school and am currently reading another, still in German. I don't eat very much, my appetite has decreased.. Or maybe I'm just very aware of the guilt I'll feel if I eat. I have been purging, anyways. I have been purging despite not feeling/looking full, but I hate having food inside of me.
   As a kid, I have always been forced to clean my plate, up to a point where I did it because I was used to it. I ate until my stomach hurt, until I was sick. I have always been surrounded by food. My grandma still cooks for us every week. She makes soups, potatoes, rice, beans, sweets, everything. And this has been going on since my parents got married. I hate that she is so thin. Not stick-thin, but I think she weighs around 60-something kilos. Probably more, since I'm around 59 now and compared to me, she is way larger. But still, thin for someone her age. So. She never eats. If she eats, it's a salad in the evening. She has osteoporosis. I have no idea since when she has it, but what if she had an ED in the past, or at least disordered eating? Because, according to my therapist, "now THAT'S what I call anorexia" (about my mom). My grandma might have had slightly disordered eating, my mom probably more severe disordered eating ("Oh my God, I went 4 days with only 2 slices of salami!" Bitch, will you please stop bragging?) and now I am the "lucky" one who has a full Eating Disorder. I don't want to have kids. Or if I have, I want to adopt. Imagine how awesome that would be.
   Anyways. I find it weird. And this random post just turned into a "Family history of EDs" post. I am no longer in the lower 60's in the morning, I am in the lower-mid 59's. or, super-high 50's, if you will.

   Someone, please tie my hands to keep me from purging tonight. I don't want to purge...

   But I can't. Do you know why? Because right after I eat, the food comes back up and I have to spit it out -- vomit. It does not come much, but enough to make me think that hey, this will be easy to purge, LET'S PURGE! Maybe the only solution is to stop eating, then there will be nothing left to come out, but heck, human beings eat. I am a human being. Or used to be.

"And everything went better than expected."

   At least if you have a messed up ED-mind, like I do. Or like any ED'ed person has. So, thing is, I've been losing weight recently (past 2-3 days, haha), very very little, but I am very satisfied with it. My appetite has decreased (or the laziness has increased) and I haven't thrown up or used lax (who am I kidding, I just had lax kick in yesterday. At least, no throwing up). Today I have eaten like a "normal person" and had some spaghetti in the evening. It wasn't enough to make me feel bloated, but it was enough to make the scale go up. From the 59.5 I weighed in the morning, I now weighed 60.8, and I have to add I've been drinking a lot more, mostly water. Why? Oh, because I am the Dehydrated Chick who has to lick her own hands because they are so dry.  Wicked, right?
   Ok, back on topic. So, I did not feel bloated and I only looked 5 months pregnant (not 9 month pregnant with triplets like I usually do after eating). I initially didn't even think about purging, but I couldn't resist the temptation. In fact, I could have. I just didn't want to. I went into the bathroom and purged. For some reason, the vomit came out so damn fast and so damn much. I have no idea why, because we rarely eat spaghetti and when we do, I rarely purge them. I was like a vomit waterfall. A vomitfall. After taking a shower and plucking and putting eye drops into my eyes, I weighed myself. 59.5, weight morning. And not everything was purged, meaning I really hope to be somewhere below 59 in the morning. PRETTY PLEASE?! My bmi is almost 20, I don't want that, nonono.
   Do you know what I hate? That I don't have a scale of my own. The one and only scale in the house is located in my mom's bathroom and I always have to walk there to weigh myself. How annoying, especially in the morning, when we all wake up and have to use the bathroom. I always have to wait for her to finish so I can weigh myself, graaaaghjghf.

   End of the post, I wish everyone a good day/night/morning/whatever and I'll see you around soon. ^.^

Lax night and feeling dead

   As the title suggests, I have been on laxatives last night. Before they "kicked in," I was dying because of the heat, was all sweaty and tired and just "blah." Then, sometime early in the morning, I started freezing and had awful cramps. I hid under the blanket and wrapped it around myself the best I could. I was still freezing. I went to the bathroom, but nothing came out. Not yet.. So I returned to my bed (what am I talking, it's just a mattress in an empty room, more on that later*) and covered myself with the blanket. I fell asleep. A few hours later, I wake up still freezing and still shaking and full of cold sweat. I went to the bathroom and.. yeah, you can imagine.  I went to sleep some more after that.
   I woke up at 10 am, home alone. I was so dizzy and so tired and my eyes and head and ears hurt. I got up from the mattress, but did it way too quickly. Which is why, after three seconds of spinning around, I collapsed back on the mattress and closed my eyes. After a few seconds I opened my eyes and the first thought that came to my mind was "Did that really happen? Was it just my imagination, did I dream? How did I get here?" It's always like that. I get up too fast, spin around, can't see anything, feel sick and collapse on whatever is closest to me, preferably something soft like a bed.
   I went downstairs and poured myself two glasses of water: I drank one of them and put the other one in the freezer. As I sipped, it felt so funny to have something in my mouth. I moved my tongue around just to "feel" the water. Next, I went where my book was and only started reading after daydreaming and taking short naps for a few minutes. I read a bit and then.. I can't remember what I did. I know that, a while later, I was on my dad's laptop playing some game and eating an apple. After these last few days, just imagine how much I had to weigh (pun very intended) this situation. "No, don't touch food. But it's just an apple. But then you'll start eating more and more and more and end up binging. No, I won't, it's just an apple, people do eat sometimes, you know? Yes, but you could go a little longer without food, just think about it! Yes, body/mind, but I am so lazy to even eat, so tired and feeling so sick, what makes you think I'll eat more? FINE, GO EAT." So I go into the kitchen, guess what. "Where are those fucking apples?! The only time when I decide to eat and actually feel okay with this idea, there are no damn apples!" I eventually found the last apple left and ate it.

   This was my purely awesomistic day, and it's not even 3 pm yet. Oh, oh! The "*" in the brackets above. I am getting new furniture for my room. I will definitely post pictures, because you know what? I would usually post them on my public blog, but I find it a little unfair to share personal stuff with people that don't know me at all. Fuck dem bitcheeez, I love you guys so much more than I like them! I can be myself here, this is our little dark corner where I speak and you listen and when you feel like it, even make some comments; and then we all pack our stuff and move on to someone else's place and so on. Yes, I'll be sharing the pictures with you guys. The furniture will be blue, different shades of it and some white. My walls are now  white (I'm not going to mention the color they were before..), and one of them will be full of pictures of my choice and hand-written quotes. I used to have something like this before, but it was just a poster on which I wrote. Now I'll have an ENTIRE WALL for that, can you imagine? Welcome to The Asylum, girls.

Woo-haa

   It is so damn warm here.. So, I just found a blog of an "anorexic" girl.. At least, that's what her name says. Her blog title is something like "Starvation diary" bur in Romanian. She weighs too much to be anorexic. She'd have to be 6'6" tall to reach a BMI of 17.5, so yes, she is definitely not "truly" anorexic. Despite that, she's only just started her blog, so I have no idea of her background. I don't know if she's ever been anorexic, but she sure as fuck wants to be. If I find she's a wanna, I don't know.. I'll either stop commenting or post negative comments, but hopefully she's not a wanna. I have already left her a comment in which I told her what "awesome stuff" eating disorders come with, she might not give a damn fuck, but I somehow give a lot of fuck about people who are trying to "catch" an eating disorder that will make them all shiny and pretty and get them thrown in the pool by Chad (hat off to anyone who knows what I'm talking about.)
   Yesss, ramble over. I had a therapist appointment today. We came to the conclusion that my parents are somewhat stupid for humiliating me in public. Then we came to the conclusion that it's good to let go of him. Theeen, we somehow came to the conclusion that I'm not doing "all this stuff" to be thin.
 
   I could write an entire book on that. It's not for being thin, definitely, because I know damn well that throwing up and taking lax (this is my 3rd day off them!) won't make me thin. So, if I know this, why don't I "just stop"?
   Because I fucking can't and am not ready to let these go. The therapist said it's all about my feelings that I need to get out, about the way I censor myself way too much, about the control people want to keep me under and the way I want to escape that control.

   I don't necessarily fantasize about being thin. I fantasize about "being dead, so fucking dead, like a corpse.. white skin, tired eyes, not being able to walk or breathe or speak or concentrate or even live. Ashes, ashes.."
It's a little weird, I know.. "Why in the world would you or anybody else wanna like that?"

   Don't ask me, ask the other me, ask my schizo imaginary friends, my bipolar rats, the homicidal monsters under my bed, my paranoid brain and my cannibal tongue and teeth. Mwhahahaha.

corpse

   ok, maybe this will be very non-sense and incoherent, i am not going to go back and spell-check and everything. i have just purged and my head is heavy. well. i have got some kind of infection-inflammation-irritation in my mouth, it hurts like hell esp when i eat. spicy or acidic stuff. i have only slept 4 hours last night and my eyes are super-sore. actually i think they're super sore because i've purged yesterday too, my face was red as fuck and my eyes were red and i looked like a demon or zombie or whatever. so i've been having these headaches for a few days now, the thing in my mouth for two days i think.. and yeah, only slept 4 hours. i am off lax for 2 days now because i get cramps out of the blue and then i go and shit and woaaaaah! some lax left in your system since 2 days ago, now that's not weird at all, is it? okokok. um. eah, i've bought some eye drops for my sore eyes, they are still very sore.

   like i was saying, i have just purged, i was not sure at first due to all of the above things. so after not really succeeding at shoving my fingers down my throat (which i rarely do now, i use a brush instead), i decided i should just hit myself with the toothbrush. that kind of sort of turned my entire body red, actually the arms and ribs and hips. ok... after that i tried to purge again and voilaaaa, *hurp*hurp*hurp* for a few minutes, then i just lay myself down on the floor with the toothbrush on my stomach. my throat is so damn numb. it hurts. do you know what it's like to move your toothbrush so violently in your throat that you can feel it like it's going to burst through it and out of th neck? yeah that's so damn sexy. no it's not. then i managed to stand up and my legs were shaky, i looked like a person with a disability or smth (by no means meaning to be rude or offend), my legs couldn't quite support me. then i cleaned up, took a shower and *drums please* went to weigh myself. i only purged 1.2 kg. that iiiiiis, let me google it, 2.6 pounds. Meh.

   i have a therapist appt tomorrow, i'll be full of bruises and with a disgusting hair and face and oooooh, body! and i bet i won't sleep tonight either, despite my eyes hurting so much and my head the same. fuckfuckfuck i sound so stupid. not to mention the way i wrote this post arghhhhhh/bye.

This woman deserves a medal

   I walk in.

"Hello, do you have any Dulcolax?"
"Yes, we do." (of course you do, damn.)
"Two boxes, please." (because I can't fit more into my purse)
"Two? Who uses so many laxatives? Do you use them to lose weight?" (imagine sarcastic, ironic, god-that's-so-stupid tone)
"Oh, no no no. My mom told me to buy a box for her and one for grandma." (what you don't know is that I'll use "this many laxatives" in 4 days. how fucked am I?)
"Ok, here you are. 26 RON." (that's our currency. it's worth 7 bucks)
"Thank you. Bye."

   I walk out. I am smiling. On the inside, I am laughing my ass off.

Edit: Oh oh oh. Something more. I think I walked past my first ex (you know, the one I was together with when I started having "trouble") yesterday, twice. We've both seen each other, though none of us said anything. I must admit I kind of went on that street purposely, to see if he's out and if my second ex (the one I broke up with recently) is out. By the way, today is his birthday and I just texted him, he said "Thanks :))." I suppose it's okay. My first ex's birthday is in a few days too, I think, but he never ever told me when it was. I think it's the 24th, but I'm not sure. Ok, enough about exes. I'm on lax and I have cramps. Yaaaay.

You don't just leave your ED at home (1)

   This is the first post of a series of I don't know how many posts. But I will talk about how things went on this side of life.

Here is what I wrote on my cell phone, I had to track everything, somehow. "(" means I was only there for the beginning of the day. "( )" means it was a full day. ")" means we only went there to sleep, so we were only there for the evening. Then, there will be either a number (of calories -- probably overestimated, or just right)) or a ?, because I stopped counting the calories. After that, there might be a "-" which means that I have purged. Here we go:

Vienna)1000
München)950
(München)1100 -
(München) 1200 -
(München)? -
Strasbourg)? -
Paris)? -
(Paris)?
(Paris)? -
(Paris)? -
Luxembourg)? -
Nürnberg)?
Vienna)?
Budapest)?
(Budapest)?
(Budapest ? - (This today -- I have vomited and also taken lax)

   Yes, that's it. I have purged 8 days out of 16. Which is why I say, you don't just leave your eating disorder at home. At least I don't. It lives inside me. I can't not throw up when my stomach hurts  because I have eaten a lot more than usual, I can't not check my body in every single mirror/window/water/anything I see. I can't not pinch at my fat. I can't can't can't.


Edit: Oh, yes, forgot to say. I have gained around 1.5 kilo, that's 3 pounds and something. I won't post my BMI since I'm so damn ashamed of it. I think I'm at my highest weight ever. Thing is, looking in the mirrors at the hotels, I actually thought I had lost weight/maintained. The lax will fix me. Then school will start and I'll fucking starve.

Good morning.

   Well, hi there. It is almost 5 AM here, I have been awake since 4, making trips to the bathroom and back. I wanted to scream because it hurt so badly and I was freezing to death. Yes, I have taken laxatives again.. why else would I be awake at this hour? At least I'll be free from lax for at least 2 weeks from today.. More on that later in the morning, when I plan on doing a.. vocal post? Is that correct, anyway? It's like vlogging without any video, just my voice. I'll use the same website I used when reading the "How to break a heart" poem.

   I just want to go to sleep.. but I'm too lazy. And that just didn't make any sense. I guess I'll just hang around for a little more, since I've almost "gotten everything out." I feel slightly uncomfortable, but it's way better than a few minutes ago.

   Who the fuck invented eating disorders? Grrrrrr..

Smoking lunatic

   "To purge or not to purge; that is the question."

   Only 15 laxatives for today. Intake, lower than usual. Still too much, because anything above zero is too much. Go to hell.

   I smoked a cigarette last night. It took me some time to light it up, because there was an awful storm outside because of which I could not sleep. The cigar was stolen from my dad. I either don't know how to smoke or they were just awful, but I never want to do it again. It stinks like hell and the smell is hard to get off. But I felt, I don't know, relaxed. Still, I don't plan on doing it again anytime soon. I don't need more addictions.

   I like to think of this experience as a way to prove to myself that I don't need to be like everyone else, if I don't want to. Cigarettes are awesome when you are with your friends and everyone smokes, you suddenly think they are sort of okay and that you could do it for the rest of your life, but the truth only comes out when you are by yourself.

   I have always been by myself, I guess that's why I have the personality I have. I didn't let people influence me.

   I have been having chest pains. I want to be locked up in a psych ward, with my fellow lunatics. That place feels safe. Horrific, but safe...

Purge -- We're all mad.

   I can't even describe what I am feeling right now. Mentally, I am numb. I don't know if I am happy or sad or depressed or God knows what. I just.. am. Something.

   But physically.. Physically, I am dead. I have been purging daily these days; both throwing up and taking laxatives. My head is spinning, it aches awfully. I finished the purge a few minutes ago. I could not stand on my feet anymore. I lay on the bathroom floor, naked, toothbrush in one hand. My heart was beating fast. My head was heavy, my eyes were sore and closed, I could not breathe because of my runny nose. I felt like I had run one billion kilometers. My throat hurts like hell and my voice is hoarse.

   I am dead. Or at least, I wish I were.

   I feel lonely. I want someone to hug me and tell me that yes, I am stupid, but that it is okay to be like that. I need... I don't know what I nee, what I want, everything seems unreal. I do not believe in the world, I do not believe that I exist, that I am writing these things. It's all fiction, it's all fantasy, we do not exist. I'm mad.

   We're all mad.

Edit: This is the 100th post. How very nice.

Fade away

   I am back. It's only been a day, and I have already cut (after a long enough break) and taken a box of laxatives, I have binged and purged and my throat is sore now and my voice is hoarse.

   The trip was nice, except..

   "Well, you've got fat that's hanging on your arms and, umm.. your legs aren't that pretty either."

   Are you fucking kidding me. This is what a guy will tell you when someone asks him to tell his honest opinion on a girl's body. Go to hell, asshole, you mad me want to take all the pills in the world and cut until I can't anymore. He was an ugly, dumb guy. He's got huge, disgusting pimples all over his body, I don't even wanna think about him.

   Thing is, it is confirmed. I am an ugly fuck.

Normal?

   I don't know what to say.

   The blog stats show that this week's traffic was mostly brought by the keywords "columbine high school massacre." I have written a blog post on that a few months ago. The reason why I think people have looked for it is the recent Colorado Dark Knight Shooting. It seemed quite unbelievable to me, but I am sure it must have been horrifying.

   Things have been going on in a weird way lately.. I gained muscle weight from the gym, then started eating less and dropped 1 kilo (2 pounds). Now I am on the second round of lax today and I hope I'll be "done" by 8 o'clock this morning. I hate the unexpectedness they bring..

   I will leave on Sunday, but I'll be back in a few days.

   Everything feels more normal than usual. I am scared.

Chronically hallucinating.. (3)

   This is the last post from the "Chronically hallucinating" series. Enjoy it. (Warning: Long post, but I can't cure the passion, sorry.)

   If you have been reading my blog for a while, you should already know that I am fascinated by mental illnesses. While doing research and reading the symptoms, I have found that some apply to me. I will now talk about the cases in which many/most symptoms apply to me.

   Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified

1. Meet all criteria for anorexia nervosa except have regular menstrual cycles
2. Meet all criteria for anorexia nervosa except their weight falls within the normal range
3. Meet all criteria for bulimia nervosa except they engage in binge eating or purging behaviors less than twice per week or for fewer than three months
4. Purge after eating small amounts of food while retaining a normal body weight
5. Repeatedly chew and spit out large amounts of food without swallowing
6. Meet criteria for binge eating disorder

(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/EDNOS)

   Let's take them one by one. I am a bit skeptical and unsure about the first two. I am afraid of weight gain, I have a preoccupation with food content and calories, I have fine hair over my body (lucky me), I purge, I do not see myself the way others see me (thin, etc), I have depression (oh yesss), I am "withdrawn and secretive," my hair is a mess and so are my nails, I have constipation, maybe calcium deficiency (both my dad and therapist said that, because my muscles go numb and because they hurt very much sometimes), I can't see anything when I stand up because I am getting dizzy, sometimes my teeth hurt even in contact with air (breathing). 

   In conclusion, I do meet some criteria for Anorexia Nervosa, but still am at a normal weight (BMI around 19; under 18.5 to be underweight; under 17.5 to be considered anorexic) and have my periods. Therefore, I am not anorexic. 

   The above symptoms apply for bulimia too, I suppose. The only thing is that I rarely binge, because the purging does happen in my case (vomiting, laxatives). Therefore, I am not bulimic.

   Number four does apply.

   Number five and six do not apply.

   I guess I'm left with EDNOS.

   Schizoid Personality Disorder

  I am not very familiar with this one, since it only hit me a few days ago that I fit some of the diagnosis criteria.

1. Neither desires nor enjoys relationships or human interaction, including being part of a family TRUE
2. Almost always chooses solitary activities TRUE
3. Has little, if any, interest in having sexual experiences with another person ? (I do not have interest in sexual experiences, but kissing and romatic-affectionate-ish things? Definitely.)
4. Takes pleasure in few, if any, activities with other people TRUE
5. Lacks close friends or confidants other than first-degree relatives TRUE (Not even first-degree relatives. I only trust my therapist, other people know nothing about me)
6. Appears indifferent to the praise or criticism of others TRUE (more indifferent to praise than to criticism)
7. Shows emotional coldness, detachment, or flattened affect ? (I have been told that I am not empathetic at all, that I am cold and sometimes mean. I feel exactly the opposite. I feel that, because I can relate to people's suffering, I am more empathetic than anyone, despite not showing it because I do not want others to see that I know what it is like to suffer)

(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizoid_personality_disorder#Diagnosis)

Other things that apply to me:

[...]have trouble establishing personal relationships or expressing their feelings in a meaningful way, and may remain passive in the face of unfavorable situations.
[...]there occurs an impoverishment in which one's self image becomes increasingly empty and volatilized, leading the individual himself to feel unreal.
[...] secret schizoids - presenting themselves as socially available, interested, engaged, and involved in interacting in the eyes of the observer, while at the same time remaining emotionally withdrawn and sequestered within the safety of the internal world.
[...] the schizoid individual is able to express a great deal of feeling and to make what appear to be impressive social contacts while in reality giving nothing and losing nothing; because he is only "playing a part," his own personality is not involved.
-Unloving, intrusive, or neglectful parenting is hypothesized to play a role. (I liked this one.)


   Selective mutism


   This is not a mental illness, but more like a symptom of anxiety disorder. 
   
   Children and adults with selective mutism are fully capable of speech and understanding language but fail to speak in certain situations, though speech is expected of them. [...] The failure to speak is not due to a lack of knowledge of, or comfort with, the spoken language required in the social situation.[...] The former name elective mutism indicates a widespread misconception that selective mute people choose to be silent in certain situations, while the truth is that they often wish to speak but cannot. To reflect the involuntary nature of this disorder, the name was changed to selective mutism [...] Despite the change of name from "elective" to "selective", a common misconception remains that a selectively mute child is defiant or stubborn.


   If you read everything that I managed to read/research in about two hours (SPD & Selective mutism - the EDNOS part was researched and experienced day and night for the last year or so), you, sir/lady, deserve a medal. Thank you very much.