Eating Disorder @ MindSay

Recently I joined a forum for boys with eating disorders. Shear curiosity.

I always read that for each boy with an eating disorder there are 10 girls with the same problem. That's probably why I had never found boys in other websites that support this issue. I remember checking livejournal and seeing dozens of very active communities dedicated to pro-"ana" or pro-"mia" users, but none of them was a boy.

On this other forum, users are mostly boys and men, it is actually called " Boys with ED - The Forum!", part of the support site www.boyswithed.tk. Ed is our friend "eating disorder". By the way, "Ana" and "Mia" are also great friends, they're "anorexia" and "bulimia".

Amazing photos of underfed bodies are posted one after the other as each boy tries to thin out to perfection. Others post photos of their "thinspirations" or "thinspo", mostly male models. Occasionally we get to read funny stories that they come up with to avoid eating in front of other people. Good stuff to read with a good dose of irony and an open mind. It's incredible how chewing gum actually makes it into their daily calorie count..

What makes it so special is the fact that I'm talking about boys and men. GUYS not WOMEN. Unfortunately I won't post any of the content from that forum, since it is user restricted, but here's some interesting cuts from other public sites, inevitably, female examples.

From http://proanaquest.blogspot.com/ Kat describes herself:

"I'm a girl of contrasts. Caught between (...) hunger & self-depravation [deprivation?]. The desire to eat and the desire to be thin. Call it "food issues" or call it self-destruction. Call it suicide. I don't care. All I know for sure in life is that I MUST be thin, and that I will do anything and everything to get there."

From http://anabootcamp.page.tl/ (now disabled) we could read about the "Ana Boot Camp" diet, or "ABC" diet, fifty days with a promise of tricking our metabolism into high catabolism by means of a rather irregular intake of calories:

1: 500 calories
2: 500 calories
3: 300 calories
4: 400 calories
5: 100 calories
6: 200 calories
7: 300 calories
8: 400 calories
9: 500 calories
10: fast
11: 150 calories
12: 200 calories
13: 400 calories
14: 350 calories
15: 250 calories
16: 200 calories
17: fast
18: 200 calories
19: 100 calories
20: fast
21: 300 calories
22: 250 calories
23: 200 calories
24: 150 calories
25: 100 calories
26: 50 calories
27: 100 calories
28: 200 calories
29: 200 calories
30: 300 calories
31: 800
32: fast
33: 250 calories
34: 350 calories
35: 450 calories
36: fast
37: 500 calories
38: 450 calories
39: 400 calories
40: 350 calories
41: 300 calories
42: 250 calories
43: 200 calories
44: 200 calories
45: 250 calories
46: 200 calories
47: 300 calories
48: 200 calories
49: 150 calories
50: fast

From http://thinobsession.zip.net/arch2007-07-01_2007-07-07.html the struggle of brazilian Nrichie into perfection, inspired by Nicole Ritchie from 70kg into 53kg (154 pounds to 117 pounds):

As a nurse, I should, but I can't condemn any of these attitudes. Actually, after seeing all the mess that exists inside our body, keeping our gastrointestinal tract shutdown is probably a good start to eliminate some of that mess.. I got to admit, there's some charm in fighting the urges and enjoying the feeling of hunger. Some insanely feel good charm.

"Nothing tastes as good as thin feels".

My day, again, was good. I've been staying positive (or at least my best) the past couple (or possibly several?) days, and I'm just... really happy, or at least content, I guess.

In Math, I had a resource appointment to go over my IEP (Individual Education Plan - it's a system for students with disabiltires, or learning difficulties, to go over what different methods would help you learn better. Eg. allow them to sit by a buddy, or allow laptop use within the classroom, photocopy notes, etc. It's a bit of an advantage. :3)

ANYWAY; so I went, sat down beside Ms. VanKessel, and she started going over it with me and making the odd accommodation here and there. She asked me if I wanted to change my career path, and I told her I had backup options - which were Web Design, so I could possibly work at home (incase I get married and possibly suddenly have a family to raise), and I also said I had a small desire that's growing inside me to be a child and youth worker. I looked at her, and said:

"To be honest, I want to be the mentor that I never really had... It's one thing to talk to somebody, like a counsellor, and get advice or help - but I find it's a totally seperate thing to go to somebody like that, and actually have them relate to what you're going through."

She agreed with me, a hundred percent. I figure that I might put the ongoing pain in my past, and even present, and even future to good use. I want to let others know that they aren't alone, even if they may feel like they are - and especially the world that I'm going to be sucked into in the future. I can't imagine how it is now, with kids (let alone my own, when the time comes) going through the same things. I want that "avoided", by all means possible. I don't them going through the same things.
So, all in all, a final note - experience is good. It helps us grow, makes us stronger. I can say that I'm glad that God put me through the things that he put me through, because without that, I wouldn't be the girl who learned that she had to rise above everything and truly value who she is. (Okay, I'll confess, I have the times where I actually don't. But you get what I mean.)

She asked me how my semester was going for me; and that was when I brought up how tough English was for me - and how my hand couldn't handle the amount of writing I was doing in that class. I asked if I could bring a laptop in, and they, even my teacher in that class, agreed. I also said to Ms. VanKessel that I dropped Academic, and went back to Applied (College) level. She said that she would talk to my teacher, and then I went back to Math.

Oh, not much to say about that period. Although, I notice Randy has gotten "worse". He has obtained an obnoxious habit of touching me, now. He was squeezing my right side as I was leaning over to zip up my backpack. (And I'm very ticklish, so it made me flinch and squirm a bit). He's highly entertained by my reactions to things. I don't even want to KNOW what's going to come next.

The bell rang, and I finally reached English - but I ran into Ms. VanKessel on my way there, and she told me she talked with my English teacher.

"I talked with Ms. Gudall."
"Oh?"
"She told me that she's actually surprised that you're an Applied student. She thought you were an Academic student."
"...Oh."
"She says that you're handing in work that's expected from an Academic student. She told me that you're doing great in this course, and everything you have handed in has been great."
"Oh. That's great!"

Then it just ended there. Had to get in class before the bell rang. I'm staying in Academic this year; and I would LIKE to continue on with it for the next two years... But I'd rather ace the Applied level rather than not really "enjoy" the Academic level. To be honest, I feel like a bit of a failure. I feel like I've let everyone down...

In History, we did some review for our test tomorrow. I'm sure I'll do fine. I'm not too worried.

In Computers, it's always a riot in there. We started a new unit (remember how we were working on Microsoft Excel?). Now we're working with Microsoft Word; which is a program that I've used practically my WHOLE life. XD
I was so hyper in that class (I always act like I'm on crack with my buds. It's awesome. XD). And at the end of class, I was talking about how I didn't want to turn 16. The bell rang, and I headed out, only to find Chase catching up with me.

"You know; being 16 isn't a difference from 15 at all."
"Yes it is! It's got a SIX in it!"
"Well, do you wanna be stuck in a LITTLE body forever?"

That was when he had to go to his bus, and I departed to my Grandmother's car. I'll be seeing her tomorrow, too.

I have a bit of English homework to do, which I will, of course. Gotta get a shower tonight, too - do a bit of History review as well.
Oh, and I've also got two new ideas for 'Did I Ever Tell You How Much I Loved You?'. I keep daydreaming about it. (Dun' worry, it's a cute idea. :3 Not a violent one. XD)

Oh, and it's also Eating Disorder Awareness Weak this weak... I might write something regarding that; you know, something to dedicate to all those who have struggled, died, or are struggling with an eating disorder. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. It all depends.

Have a good day, peoples! 8D

I keep wondering how desperate people will be to go to extreme measures to upset somebody. Dixie keeps bad-mouthing me; even though before I left she promised me she wouldn't (what made me believe her...?). She continues to paint a bad, false picture of the person that I am, for just merely leaving her because she wasn't good for me and my well being at all.

She keeps blaming everything on me, which I expected, as that is a trait of an abuser towards their victim. After what I went through, trust me - the world would be a much better place without people like her out in this universe. No, it's not a message of hatred - it's just the way I see it.

Dixie, I don't belong to you anymore. Just get over it and leave me alone. None of this would have happened if you didn't treat me the way you did; handled me the way you did.
Really. I keep wondering if I'll ever be sane again after what ensued with her in the past. I'm completely better without her, yes. But I will admit that I can't admit I'm fully happy.

I’m fine. Really. – That’s a lie I tell myself on a daily basis that is meant to be true. Or at least, it is meant – for about six hours a day, but only counting weekdays when I attend school.

It’s a simple concept to grasp. School is like an antidote I drown my pain in, or I numb it completely - and somehow, my mind does a clean wipe and my pain goes away, or at least it’s forgotten about when I am around the people I love. I mean love as in friendship, not in attraction or relation to relatives of my own. My friends that accept me, and take me as I am are seen, in my eyes, as something I wouldn’t be able to cope without. Without them… I don’t think I would serve a single purpose.

I tell my friends almost anything, and everything. With a friend of mine, we both desire and talk about finding “Mr. Right” someday. That’s another lie that I hide with a mask. Due to past experience, and threats from somebody in particular (it's Dixie, I'll reveal) saying that they would leave me if I ever got a boyfriend; I have come to believe that men are deceiving creatures, and I have grown afraid of them. I’ve made a vow to myself that I wouldn’t ever fall in love, for my own safety and protection – but yet, I still have a desire to marry a man. In the past, I have bumped into men online who have treated me merely as their little toy. Like I was some sort of game. They thought I was just for sex; serving very little to no value to them.

I don’t trust them; men. It’s all because of that single threat to betray me if I made certain choices that led me to this - to not be attracted to somebody. Our minds are very powerful, and the more I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t fall in love with anybody started coming to be. I wish I could love again. I want somebody to teach me to love again. But at the same time I debate the usefulness of it.

Come to think of it, it’s hard for anybody to gain my trust, nowadays. I view my trust as a spring – a beautiful spring, flowing with pure water, and anybody was free to drink from it. But now, my trust still is that same spring – only it’s been all dried up over the years. There remains nothing left of water due to everyone drinking more than they should, or they steal it for a cause that is unknown to me. Those who have drank from it are frantic and asking me how the water can be restored. I simply shake my head, and say without a hint of pity in my voice, “It can’t”. They stare back at me in desperation. They ask me again. And again, I shake my head, and my eyes are downcast.
“Sorry, but once you misuse my trust it can’t be regained. That was the choice you made.”

Some people, once I tell them this, become furious – and start spitting at me how I should have warned them. Warned them? Warned who? You? What, were they planning to misuse me anyway? Is that the point they’re trying to get across? You shouldn’t take somebody’s trust and break it – as, even with the most innocent and compassionate creatures, there are certain things that cannot be restored.

I do trust my friends, very much. But there’s always something I hide from them. Pain.
Although, most of my friends vent about what’s happening in their lives to me, and they talk about the pain that they are in, I choose to keep mine hidden. Not just from my friends, but from everybody. I don’t make it visible. I wear a mask; an invisible wall that nobody can climb over to peer into the very depths of what I’m experiencing deep down in the center of my inner core.

But what nobody knows is what goes on behind my bedroom door…

My bedroom is my little hideout. I like it in there, and it would be brought to perfection if it had a lock to the door. Over the course of the past two years, It has become my favourite place. In my bedroom, I used to cry, and I used to cut without anybody knowing. It’s a place where fragments from my past now haunt me whilst I’m there, but at the same time it’s where I can bring my world to a complete stop. I can be comfortable there, but for some reason I am not.

I am afraid of my own bed. When I crawl into the sheets, and pull the covers over my body, almost instantly, my past invades my head.


I often hear stories about teens committing suicide. I sometimes wish I could muster enough courage to throw those pills down my gullet, to tie the knot tighter to the rope…
There are times when my life when I grab a bottle of pills, stare at them, and then I finally put them back and shake my head. I often wonder why I am still here, or why I am as “perfect” as I am.

I have thought about continuing to commit the sin of self-injury. Not only did it feel okay at the time when I used to do it, but I will admit, I liked to stroke them when they would scab over. The rare time, I have debated on using drugs – or going anorexic. There was a time recently over the course of a month or two, when I would weigh myself, and cheer myself on when I would discover I lost a pound and went to a low number – such as 102, 101, or even in the super rare case, 100.
You may ask why I think about this, and I will tell you that it isn’t for attention – although that is what they all say. No, I wouldn’t take it up for attention – but I would take anything up just to admit that there is “something wrong with me”, and I would be admitted to talk to somebody.

“Why don’t you do that now?”
A very good question. The relationship with my parents isn’t the greatest, so I tend to just avoid them. I’m afraid of expressing myself in front of them, so I remain silent. I don’t open up to them. My mother knows about how I used to self-harm, and told me not to do it again. The only reason I obeyed was because I didn’t want her scolding me again. I can’t remember the last time I opened myself up to my mother, and I know that it won’t come soon.

Generally, there isn’t anybody I can completely open up to when I want to talk about how my life is going. I tell most of it, but I hide really important parts for fear that I may be judged, or I won’t ever be talked to again. I drown myself in my past. I want to run from it. But I can’t, it’s bound me by its chains.

A request from my new/not-so-new friend Bonnie. This was shorter than I planned it out to be. Personally, I don't like it, but hey, it was something I wanted to accomplish. And I did. So, Bonnie, here's your boot - even though how awful I think it is. =P
...Oh, great - now I gotta think of a topic to suggest. Errrm... I dunno, love? XD Hey, it's something. My mind is turned off. :P

---

Movement. It’s a simple word in today’s society that nobody needs to pull a dictionary out for. Simply, the action of physically moving your joints and limbs. Anybody can figure that out. But behind every word, is a door that only those with an imaginative mind can discover…

Movement. Yes, it’s a word associated with physically moving. It's running to the finish line. It takes a big part in the art of dancing. It's a life-impacting action that can affect millions, like Terry Fox did.

But doesn’t this word serve many more meanings other than the one it was first meant for? Instead of physically moving to get somewhere, maybe 'moving' is in reference to achieve something. Like a dream you've wanted to bring to life for the longest time. Like receiving that A on your test, or getting that job you've always wanted.

Movement. Nobody ever said it had to be physical. Maybe movement to you serves a different meaning. Maybe it's emotionally instead of physically. Maybe movement to you is the struggle to get out of bed every morning. Maybe it's the battle to conquer that haunting eating disorder. Maybe it's the pain you have to endure to get over the loss of a loved one. Maybe it's the battle to say no to the choice to decorate your arms with the sharp teeth of a steak knife.

Movement. It's using yourself and your willpower to embark on that classic journey to find out who you are and your main purpose for being placed on this planet. It's the determination that thrives within us that gives us the bravery and courage we need to face the daily obstacles and challenges in order to find this discovery. It's the battles we fight through to simply just move on.

Movement. It's a word that has made me press on in life to give you these words today.

I wish she would just stay away.

Not talk to me.

I don't need her input-I look in the mirror enough k?

I'M ON MEDS FOR THIS SHIT!

SHE MAY HAVE NOT TOLD YOU, BUT I HAVE AN EATING DISORDER!

Let's see...I take SEVEN pills a day to get this under control! And you are half the problem!

So fuck you.

Everyday it's "What did you eat today?" and "Did you exercise?"

I CAN'T STAND IT!

You know what? I don't care if our relationship is scarred because YOU think it may not be a good idea for me to move in with Austin. I'm going to do it because it makes ME happy. I'm not living to please you anymore!

After May 24th, life is about ME!

God....I need a cigarette.....