Date: Sept. 10, 2002 Time: 6:03 PM My current mood is: The Story of My ED Part 6: Stripping the flesh After quiting the animal hospital of hell, I got a job at another pet store. By this time I was trying not to eat so much, berating myself for eating nachos, restaraunt food, etc. I was so fat, why couldn't I just stop eating so damn much, I thought? I kept trying to diet, not much, more just stop eating junk food. I got more and more upset each time I fucked up and ate something "bad". Finally I had got so disgusted and horrified with myself, that I decided right then and there, I wasn't going to eat anymore. Well I was, but that I was going to starve myself, because I was so disgusting I deserved it. I didn't quite decide I wanted to be anorexic, I just knew I had to stop eating once and for all, and go back to how I was eating when I lost those 10 lbs a year ago. It was hard at first, my body rebelled and I found myself eating even though I had decided not too. Then it got easier. I started looking up eating disorders online, not sure if I was looking for "tips", trying to figure out if I had one, or mearly feeding in to my once again growing obsession(and for those of you like me, you know what I found). I became absolutly relentless towards myself... the fat on my body was the enemy to be defeated. I was obsessed more then ever, my one goal and one thought at all, was that I needed to lose weight NOW! I constantly grabbed at the places where there was fat, thinking about how I needed to make it disappear. I started learning more about calories, and started exercising. I decided I was not allowed to have more then 300 calories a day, and even that was the max. Surviving on 200-300 calories a day, I also started working out about an hour a day. I started up again on my being obsessed with a particular food, for months straight I ate Fiber One cereal literally everyday for breakfast. Two weeks into my starvation diet from hell, I went to a psychiatrist appointment I had made. I made it under the guise of wanting medication for my Attention Deficit Disorder, but really what I wanted was help for my depression, I was just to afraid to actually admit that I had depression though. I had already pre-decided that I would be totally honest, a gigantic step for me. I'd been seeing psychiatrists since age 5, and not once had I ever been honest. By now I figured there was no point in lying about anything anymore, I had my whole life and where had it gotten me?? Nowhere. So I went, and answered her questions as honest as possible. She was a bit concerned about my eating habits, and said I might get an eating disorder if I continued. It kind of frustrated me inside, because secretly I knew I was already getting pretty severe very quickly. I didn't want help about my eating though, and refused to stop. At that point I had already lost about 10 pounds, and I wasn't giving up now. No one could take this away from me. On a daily basis I had to make sure I didn't pass out, and had taken to trying to talk myself out of collapsing("Please don't pass out, please don't pass out" ran through my mind). I rapidly lost weight, in those 2 months that I was eating that little, I dropped 30 pounds. I felt awful physically and mentally. I started becoming obsessive in other areas, such as lining up /obsessivly arranging all the cans of food in the cabinets, cleaning all the time, becoming possessive about food being brought into the house, and other strange things. As I dropped down to 95 pounds, people started commenting on my large weight loss, except for my family. My dad hadn't even noticed. Mind you, I'm pretty short (5'2), so losing 30lbs is a big change. The only time he really started mentioning it, is when after awhile anyone who ran into me kept commenting on it worridly infront of him. Of course he didn't notice me skipping meals because I worked 2pm-10pm each day, I just lied about every meal I ate. I just wanted to get back to 100lbs, then I would be thin and everything would be fine. Soon I realized that 100lbs wasn't enough, for some odd reason I still looked like I was 125lbs. Oh well, I thought, I guess I just miscalculated, perhaps I would be thin at 98lbs? No try again, I then decided that wasn't enough and that I needed to be 95lbs. I soon hit that and realized I was still as fat as ever, and my new goal would be 90. In the meantime, my psych. had taken to weighing me and made me go to the docters. After having 3 appointments with her in a row that I was in the middle of fasting, she finally yelled at me and threatened to tell my dad and to hospitalize me. I'd also started seeing my therapist Joyce who would try to get me to admit that I had a problem, though I was convinced I was fine. This is me at 98 pounds I think? Perhaps less then that? And yes I have legs, those are just holes in my jeans! Leave a message Last Entry ~ Next Entry Enter email to occasionally get special or pointless updates: