Thursday, 11 December 2008
Have you noticed...
...that I have stopped calling these entries 'Parts'? I got fed up of having to check back to know what number I was up to and realised the titles were rather dull and needed enlivening!
I haven't taken any laxatives today. It has, so far, been a conscious avoidance of the box of Bisocodyl sitting on my kitchen worktop. I feel a bit panicky, a bit brave, a bit naive and a lot scared. I didn't get a good night's sleep because I was on the toilet so often, having taken far more laxatives than I had initially promised myself. Damn. Just writing this is agitating me now...
Do any of you visitors look at the poll in the top right hand corner of this blog? Ian advised me to taken it down if we ever reached 100. That almost sounds mercenary, doesn't it, in black and white. That wasn't the intimation behind it...Almost every day, that poll depresses me more and more. It now stands at 47% current ED sufferers. 22% have never suffered, and thus the remaining 31% have been touched by an ED in some way, shape or form. So why, if this blog is public, open to any cross-section of demographic, do we have almost half of its viewers as sufferers and we are told by our health services that EDs affect 1 in 10 people. I did my Maths O'level one year early and got a B. I iz not thick. There is a vast difference between almost 50% and 10%...
Ok, ok, you could turn to me and say, Well, only those who are interested in EDs are going to be drawn to your blog. And I will certainly hold up my hands to that statement.
But the hard fact is that it's scary.
What is even more scary - and girls, this is not said with any acrimony, bitterness, condemnation or judgement; I am gratified that you deem this blog worth reading - is that there are some Pro-Ana authors reading. They are very quiet, peaceful people. They don't make waves, and they don't advocate their own beliefs. They are NOT to be condemned, but at the same time, sorry, girls, I don't condone it.
The next few paragraphs are going to be total juxtapositions; possibly hypocritical; extremely confused...
I see the photos on Thinspo. I see the bones, the tendons, the blank, bland eyes which are lifeless, devoid of emotion, care, feeling, yet filled with utter self-hatred - although that is my opinion. I can quite honestly say that there is nothing about those images which fills me with envy, desire, jealousy or longing. I don't want to look anything like this.
I wrote a comment on a blog today about an email I had received in response to a petition to the British Government demanding more help for ED sufferers. After waiting for about three months, we had a response from our glorious leader, Gordon Brown (who could probably do with staying off the pies for a few months himself) that parliament were proud to inform us that, over the next three years, the issue of eating disorders will be injected with a governmental grant of £135,000. (About US$ 210,000). Divide that by three. How many of you live in a family where the annual income is less than £40,000 p.a.? There aren't that many. So, to feed a family of two adults and 2.4 children costs around £45,000 p.a. And £5000 less than that is being spent on the so-called 10% of nationwide ED sufferers in the UK.
I feel like being sick. And that is without sticking my fingers down my throat.
I don't want to end up looking like that girl in the above picture. Truly, I don't. I don't enjoy any aspect of this 'disorder' but I keep driving myself on - it's like a competition with myself. Over the last couple of days, four extra pounds have come off. I was actually shocked, as I had been trying so hard to eat bits here and there - way more than normal. Our scales also seem to be out of kilter. When at the hotel two weekends ago, having worked out at the gym, I was 9lbs lighter on two different sets of scales than that which read on our own scales, my brow furrowed. So, if they stated I was 8.7 stone then, and my scales stated 9.2 and I have now dropped by 4lbs, things are going awry, aren't they?
I sit here, writing this blog and as I do so, my stomach naturally sucks itself in. It's not due to vanity as I am wearing my husband's big, baggy fleece as it is so bitterly cold. It just happens, and suddenly, I am thinner than I was five minutes ago.
If any of you readers hate this, too, and want to overcome it, we need to unite. We need to fight this bastard with tooth and claw. EDs create indolence, comfort zones, walls and pain. If nobody else can help us, surely together, we are a force to be reckoned with?
Don't let me down. Please. We CAN do it.