well, it is coming to an end.

thanksgiving was fun, excepting the food which you all know i hated hated hated. did it taste good? too good. i wanted to eat every bit of what was on the table myself (and i know i could have, in about... 2 quick trips). so it was hard. i had my serving of turkey, buttery :\ stuffing, mashed potatoes with NONskim milk :\ and butter :\, green beans, yams and marshmallows :\, corn with butter :\, and a slice of pumpkin pie made with fatty milk :\. so yes, it was DELICIOUS. and yes, i hated it because i wanted to get rid of it right after i ate it.

i was good. i ate the right amount, i didnt binge, i didnt purge. and it was distracting, in a good way, to talk to my family while we all sat together at a huge table and ate. i learned some things about all of them, and i think they learned some things about me. i tried to keep ed talk away from the table, but we touched on it a little, too.

black friday is always a favorite of mine. the only people i know who do it better are one of my aunts and my cousin. my mother the doctor was too tired to go, so i went with my sister adn my two sisters in law. we got up at 3 and hit the stores. i usually love black friday like crazy. this year, it was different because i had to deal with buying new "fat clothes". my therapist says that as long as i am keeping my old "skinny clothes" without buying new clothes that fit, it is as if i am hoping to one day fit back into the "skinny clothes". and even though, id love to, i know i cant think that way. so i had to use up some of my black friday trying on new clothes.

i spent the entire ride to the mall (and remember, my parents live in the boondocks, so i had a lot of time) convincing myself that a size 4 isnt fat, a size 4 isnt fat, a size 4 is ok, a size for is a test size, a size 4 is considered small, even if i dont think it is. it was hard, because all of my life, i have always considered a size 2 to to be the acceptable MAX. it wasnt great, but it wasnt failure. a size 2 meant that you werent a loser, but you certainly had more work to do. a size 4 on the other hand... the start of full-fledged failure. husky. big. fast. pudgy. especially since im not, you know, 6'2. so i had sort of, remotely, not really, but almost convinced myself that a size 4 was ok, i could live with a size 4 (because remember, its permanent now. its not, as it was before, me telling myself just get one pair of size 4 pants FOR NOW, and you can lose the weight and get rid of them. this was me telling myself, you have to be ok with a size 4 FOREVER. that was hard.

to i get to the store and i start trying on clothes... i bring in a PILE of cute size 4s and even though they look SUPER HUGE to me, i keep telling myself, its ok, its ok, its ok its ok its ok itsokitsokitsokitsokitsokitsok.....

and guess what.

it wasnt.

the size 4s were too small. i wanted to die right there. so here we are in two dressing rooms right next to each other, my sister and i. my sister, who is barely a size 1 or 2, who has only a gentle curve of the hips and a little butt and thighs that barely kiss eachother when she stands with her feet together (or maybe they dont even touch and i just want to believe they barely touch...?). and she is complaining about how the size 0 is almost too small, but the size 2s are too big. how do i buy jeans when there is no size in between and one is too small and the next up is too big?!

and ladies and gentleman, she just had two kids.

jack, how do yours fit? she calls under the divider.

um, ok... i think i want to try a different size. i call back. different instead of bigger.

so i gathered my pile of too small 4s and traded them in for 6s. 6s arent even baggy. they fit.

yeah yeah yeah, i KNOW 6s are still considered to be a size small to medium. so no one needs to say it.

i dont have to say that i dont see it that way. if 0 is small and 00 is ideal, 2 is barely acceptable, 4 is the start of failure, what is 6?

utter failure.

especially since its not a temporary 6, its a forever 6. im supposed to stay this way forever. because its healthy, because its my natural weight.

they told me in rehab, after taking various measurements, bone density tests, body shape and size considerations, that my weight would stabilize around 130. i totally blew that off, i didnt believe them AT ALL. i figured 120, 125 TOPS. but i have been eating regularly, a normal amount, enough calories, not too many, and this is where i am 130/131. my natural weight has arrived. and i am disappointed and disgusted.

i tried to forget about the jeans incident and the fact that i had to buy all medium tops when i am used to getting extra small. i tried to have a good day. and it shouldnt have been hard because the girls i was around are WONDERFUL. and yeah, there were moments i slipped into ease and smiled or even laughed and forgot about what i look like... but it stayed in my mind because it has to. i think maybe it will forever and i just have to learn to live with it. always try to stop listening to it, but always know that i will hear it forever. ignore ignore ignore...

so i have a new wardrobe of clothes that fit me and will fit me forever because i cannot get smaller and i WILL NOT get bigger. i have to be this size.

i bought some things for friends, gifts for family, scaled the deals and bought out the stores :P it was, essentially, fun. im trying not to dwell on the clothes.

and this morning, it was time for some goodbyes already. my oldest brother and his family went back to md this morning around 10 so that they could have a day to rest before work/school and so they kids could to their homework, etc. i made breakfast-- egg substitute, turkey bacon, wheat toast, and cranberry pancakes. in the past, when i have made breakfasts like this, i avoided them myself like the plague while i watched others devour them. because even though it probably sounds pretty healthy and yes, low in fat, to most of you, to me, it sounds like death. but i ate it. it tasted good, but it felt bad :\ thats not a new feeling though.

we ate, talked, said our goodbyes, and now there are just the three of us "kids". the rest of us will disperse tomorrow throughout the day. my brother is leaving first, 8ish, he says. my sister is staying until i leave, because she lives in indiana, too. i think i will stay until noon so that i can talk to my parents for real, alone. maybe learn some things, if they arent too busy.

we'll see.

for now, life goes on.

happy thanksgiving, everyone.

i am at my parents' house (they are currently living back in pennsylvania). my brothers and sister are here with their families. i guess i can start by talking a little about them.

i have two older brothers who are married with two kids each. my oldest brother, who lives in maryland, is in his early 30s. he is married to one of the kindest women i have ever met and they have a teenage daughter (hers from a previous relationship) and a preteen son. the next oldest is also living in maryland and is 30. i love him dearly, dearly, dearly and i am closest to him. i miss him all the time and i wish i could see him more often. he is the reason i might move to maryland someday. he is also married and has two little sons-- who are both adorable and chatty and just a lot of fun! my little sister is 21 and lives in pennsylvania near my parents. she, too, is married with two kids (can you believe that?!). She has a little girl and a new little boy. i am the unmarried fool :P

they like to make fun of me, call me an old maid, its all in fun. they know i dont want to be married right now.. i think i am too young to be married, even though my sister is married at 21.

my parents are... busy. my mom is a doctor, my dad is a lawyer. they probably shouldnt have had ONE kid, let alone 4... but they did. in a way, i am glad that they did, because had they not, my brothers and sister and i would not exist. but still, they never had the time or energy for us. they both have high power, high paying, high maintenance jobs and when they got home, there was never really enough time to do anything but sleep and do it all again tomorrow. they are getting better... or trying.

so, here i am, in my parents' house, awaiting the "feast" which i dont want to eat because im scared it will make me magically and immediately expand to a size 14, but i know i have to eat it. no longer under the guise of being a vegetarian, i will eat turkey. i will eat stuffing, i will eat corn and mashed potatoes, i will eat beans and casserole, and so on and so forth... i will eat it. i will not like it, but i will make myself do it because i have to. maybe someday, it wont be so hard.

my bedroom is, of course, a guest room. i did not live with my parents when they loved back to pennsylvania (none of us did), so while i stay here, i will stay in a guest room that does not look, smell, feel, or seem like me or anything i am familiar with concerning my parents... and maybe thats better, considering my past.

they live in a modest house in indiana, pa. it is not, so much, like them. it is small for their usual taste (though not, in most people's vision, small), and it is far from "civilization" with the exception of a kmart or a walmart or something i saw on the way here. but i think they are happy and i am, for the moment, happy to be here.

it is nice to be around the kids again. to be aunt jackie, to play with them, to have someone treat me like i am not made of glass, like i wont fall apart any second, because in reality, i might. it is nice to ignore this for a while. it is nice to talk to my big brother... about maryland, about being a cop, about fishing, and vacations with the little boys, about his wife and what she is doing, about how one day, i might move up there and we will get to see much more of each other. it is, of course, a dream right now. it is nice to brush my little sister's hair and meet her youngest... it is nice to talk to my teenage niece like she is a grown up and listen to her talk about boys and hair and clothes... i feel normal.

almost.

my family is dysfunctional and my parents have not always been there when i needed them. they still arent. they claim that they are turning over a new leaf and i hope it is true... we will see, in time.

for now... well, for now, i will finish this post. and then i will go downstairs and have conversations, play with children, talk to my parents about treatment, recovery, and school... and then we will eat, *i* will eat. i will. and i will weigh 131 pounds and i will get used to that. because i have to.

from now on, i will LIVE. i promise to try.

concerning my ed. may be interesting, maybe not. but here goes nothin'.

it started when i was probably 10. not full-throttle, of course. but the first time i considered my own weight and size seriously, in an adult-manner, was probably when i was 10 years old.

by the time i was 15 though, i was gone.

i went from a happy(ish), healthy 5'1" 105 pound teenager (i was tiny because i was a gymnast) to a mere 75 pounds. i blamed it on everything else. i had a growth spurt, ive been sick, i dyed my hair so it must make me look really different, i dont know, im really not that much thinner, five pounds maybe, i'll gain it back, i promise, i didnt do it on purpose.

my parents sent me to treatment.

i lived with other girls who were ana and some girls who were bulimic or ana-bulimic (bulimerxic to some). i got better. i grew four inches (i guess people who eat grow) and gained almost 45 pounds. i looked human.

i joined the cheerleading squad, i only did gymnastics recreationally (aka, for fun-- i quit serious training because my bones were too weak and my body couldnt handle serious competition).

i felt fat

not just fat. HUGE.

i kept my weight up though. up to 125 pounds of up. i graduated. i went to college. i got an apartment. i did the college kid thing. and i starved myself. i was 5'5" (my current height) and i weighed under 90 pounds. i told people i weighed 100 pounds, it was natural, i was small boned. they believed me.

i started throwing up, just a little, not all the time. just after i binged, just about once a week. the rest of the week, i starved. i was taking diet pills, caffeine pills, energy pills, drinking energy drinks, i was high on that shit all the time.

i had a friend who helped me get better.

but then, i did it again. and i exercised and exercised and exercisedandexercisedandexercisedandexercisedandexercised..... at first, i was starving and exercising, so i got skinny. then, i started eating. binging. purging. and exercising. i gained. i stopped. i got better.

i weighed 115 pounds and i probably looked very good. thin, even.

but then.... again.

ive been more of a bulimic than an anoretic in my most recent bout. binging on thousands and thousands and thousands of calories at one time (i honestly dont want to mention how many, but suffice it to say, you probably wouldnt believe it) and throwing up-- multiple times a day. nothing i ate ever stayed down.

i looked normal on the outside. mostly because i was a binge-purger rather than a starver... that doesnt thin a person down as much as starving. as much as i wanted to be a starver, i wasnt. i worked out. some. i was 118.

i checked myself into treatment. i spent 6 months in an in-patient facility far away from home. i gained weight. they wanted me to be 130, i was 123. then i was 125, then i was 127, now i am 131. i am technically "better", but not "recovered". "transitioned", but not yet healed. i am living in the real world, i am regular eating meals and snacks, i am currently taking in enough calories. and they stay. mostly because they have to. because i dont know how many more "chances" i really have.

but i am not happy yet.

i am fat. i am fat. i am fat.

healthy means fat, fat means healthy... i sometimes feel like i will go back because i want to.

i guess i wont. not right now. too much to lose (figuratively and literally).

and here i am.

this is me:



i am decorating for christmas. early.
i obviously have a butt.
and thighs.
and hips.
and a belly that i am not used to having.
my jeans are a size i cant remember wearing. ever.
ALL of that, i am not used to. at all. not even remotely.

i do not like it.

i am trying to live with it. i used to be skinny, now i am not.

those of you who read this probably already knew all of that. but maybe you still learned something. i am an open book. feel free to comment to this entry and ask questions, i will reply.

xxxjb

i want to be thin.

i want to be happy, really happy.

i want to work out again.

i want to feel that grumble in my belly because its empty.

i want to be empty.

i want to have a flat stomach.

i want to have small hips.

i want to be pretty.

current fatness: 131 pounds
current fat measurements: 34-28-37.5

fatfatfatfatfatfat.

fat

i just want to be 120 again. i swear i would be happy with 120. at least for now. 131 is a pain and its pudgy and fat and disgusting.

and it hurts because being healthy means looking this way.

so i just want to vent.

there is this girl i know here and she is just about my height, a little shorter. about 5'4". she is 115 pounds and she is always complaining about being fat!!!

shes thin!!! christ, she's practically SKINNY, for god's sake!!!!! she told me her measurements are 34-26-36 and that's "omg, sooooooooo fat!!!!!" OMG. thats skinny. she looks like a freakin rock star. fuuuuuck.

5'4" and 115 pounds, kiss my ass.

GRRRRRRRRR.

ill get back to you. i will.

arrrrrghhh. i am so fucking frustrated!!! im trying not to cry, but maybe i should. just to get it out.

i feel like such a fat motherfucker lately and i hate it. i am a disgusting pig. i want to stop eating and every time i eat, i want to throw up, i want to be empty.

but i also want to be healthy. and if being healthy means being 130 fat pounds, then im trying really hard to deal with that.

but its really, really shit. i look like a chunky, fat, porky gross person. i have never been this heavy and i dont know what to do. i feel out of control and it hurts.

im trying so hard to be healthy... but why does healthy have to mean fat? :(

current fatness, 130 pounds.

this was me when i was 126/127. def look fatter now. you wouldnt believe what a difference those 3-4 pounds make, but they do.



im going to be up late, aka all night, writing a paper for my stupid psych class. anyone want to write it for me?

sometimes i hate skinny people.

and maybe its just because i am not one anymore.

i would love to be about 120 pounds right now, i really would.

i am 130, are you happy?

my friend ed.

my eating disorder. my comfort. my solstice. my right through all of the wrongs. my proof that i am strong, that i can do anything. my savior. my ed.

sound crazy? im sure it does. right now, i am just heading into 3 months of recovery outside of treatment... scary. scary scary scary. i am 5'5" short (ha!) and 126 pounds. i feel fat, yes. in fact, i feel down-right BLOBBISH some of the time, but im dealing with it. i was once as low as 83 pounds and i looked horrible. sometimes i still think i looked fine. pretty, even.

yeah, youre right, i probably looked like hell. 5'5" and 83 pounds, imagine. (BTW, thats me in the user pic for this post. yeah.) i used to lie to people and say i was right around 100. some of them believed me, i think... stupid losers. or, maybe i was the stupid loser back then.

i think im doing better. i still count calories because honestly, its hard not to. i still want to restrict and eat less and less every day (who the fuck wants to eat 3 snacks a day on top of meals?!!! not me!), but im trying my best not to do that (and SUCCEEDING at the moment!!) and i hope it will last.

this was not my first attempt at recovery, thats what scares me. this is my FOURTH time at organized, in-patient recovery and my SEVENTH attempt in all.. talk about odds stacked against ya!! right there, bucko. so, scared? yes.

hopeful? well, yes.

confession, i skipped a meal today.

confession, i liked it.

confession, my adrenaline was PUMPING after i did it.

confession, i did it on purpose.

i will not do it again, i swear. and after i did it, i made sure i added some calories to my next meal. it didnt make up for what i missed, but at least i did something about it.

confession, i didnt feel that guilty...

so, right now, i am fighting that "slippery slope" toward relapse and i think, so far, i am doing a damn good job!

i want to try to post at least twice a week.

for now,

jb

hello random (?) audience.

my name is jacqueline and i am 23 years old. i am a grad school drop out who is attending community college trying to grab yet another undergraduate degree in something i may or may not decide to follow through with... and thus, i am currently deciding what to do with my broken, tattered, and confusing life.

i am an eating disorder survivor; having dealt with both anorexia and bulimia since i was 12. i am 2 months out of a 6 month in-patient treatment in missouri and i am feeling very good about that. even still, that along with everything else in my life... is a little out of wack.

i lied to family members, lied to a very good friend, brought other people into the lie who didnt deserve to have to deal with the shit that i put them through, and now, ive isolated all those people. i dont really know what to do about that, has it been too long? its been quite close to a month now that i havent spoken to these individuals. why? i cant say that im really sure. am i scared? maybe. am i just hiding? thats very possible. or...

am i working my way back into a shell so that i can isolate, starve, binge & purge, and sink back into a lonely but comforting hole? i sincerely hope not.

i am currently living in central virginia with family friends and i am deciding what i should do, where i should go, who i should reach out to, when things will be ok again... or, maybe more importantly, will they ever be ok again? of that, i am honestly not sure.

this is my life. this is a new start, a fresh look, a beginning.

this is... maybe therapy for me. i need to get my life back on track. starting now. join me...