Prove Them All Wrong

Tonight, I was running through my usual google search terms to find new thinspiration and tips, when I came across the definition of "Pro-Ana" in Wikipedia. Out of curiosity, but having a strong hunch as to what it would say, I clicked the link. Wikipedia proceeded to explain to the world that all Ana's had deadly disease and were all trying to kill themselves through starvation for one reason or another blah blah blah...nothing I haven't heard from my parents all through high school. And, quite frankly, I hate people who jump to those kinds of conclusions. We are all not striving to end it all through elongated suicide. I'm just trying to perfect my body. But that's an argument for another day.

What I really wanted to mention was a picture I came across on the Wikepedia page. What I saw was a very thin, almost cartoonish looking girl, crouched on the ground, her knees to her chest and her face buried. And she was entirely disproportionate. Her limbs were elongated past reason and all forms of fat, muscle, hard bone angles were polished out. She was literally lineslineslines.

It was a "caricature" of thinspiration.

I call it a dare.

For me, this only shows that there are people out there who fully believe that perfection is out of reach and that, to show this, they must make fun of our lifestyle.

Well, I say, prove them all wrong. Prove every last person who laughs at you and your goal that it's possible. Prove to the world that perfection is not out of reach.

If you would like to see the gallery, here's the link.

http://www.ivonnethein.com/en/art1_1.html

Good luck, little Anas.

~Anna

A day in bed

Why do I only feel worth something if the clothes that fit yesterday are loose today? I don't know. I do know that I changed into some jeans and a white t-shirt, took one look at myself in my bathroom mirror in all the yellow-white lights and fought back the urge to cry. I stripped and went back to bed.

That was two hours ago.

I feel like no matter how little I eat, no matter how many hours I work out at the gym, no matter what I do to myself, my body absolutely hates me. Every time I get half a step closer to my goal, I'm jerked back two or three. Some days I feel like the only thing I can do is hide out in my bed and wait for the fat to starve away.

I want so much and it seems so impossible. I want thin thighs that don't rub together when I walk. I want collar bones that stand out in elegant lines. I want clothes that are loose to make me look smaller, not bigger. I want people to notice me, not my huge weight. I want big brown eyes not clouded and hidden behind fat cheeks. I want arms that don't bulge out of cap-sleeves. I want so much and some days I just want to throw up until I'm there and I've achieved it.

I swear there's something wrong with me.


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It's been a few hours since I last posted. Around eight or nine, i'm not really sure. My boyfriend called a few moments ago. He's driving back into town for one reason or another and wants to see me tonight, a coffee date I suppose. I honestly don't want to leave my apartment. It's so much of an effort to find something to impress other people in. I'd much rather have him come over for a bit where I can stay in my ratty jeans and a hoodie and hide out from the world for just a bit.

My parents invited me to dinner. The "i'm feeling a bit sick," excuse is wearing old. I don't know how i'm going to continue on in that department.

I really am trying to keep this blog as up-beat as possible, but sometimes that almost feels like asking to much.

I'll try to be happier tomorrow.

It all depends on the numbers on the scale.


~Anna