You need one, I need one, everyone needs one.

This is overtherainbowthin, and from now on I'm stopping the bullshit. I have a feeling that a lot of people that have subscribed to me and befriended me will be confused or angry with this post, but everyone needs to hear this.

Anorexia Nervosa, Bulimia Nervosa, EDNOS, BED, etc, does not make you happy. It does not make you pretty, it does not make you confident, it doesn't make you healthy, it doesn't make you a better person, it doesn't  mean you have self-control, it means you're sick.

That's the bottom line. And if you're not smart enough to realize that, then you're in denial.
It can seem like your friend, your comfort, your safety net, your drug, your crutch, your everything. But ana and mia are only set out to kill you. I know I sound like a broken record, but if you don't believe me by now then you need to keep hearing it.

I'm currently in recovery, and I'll admit that at first it was against my will. I've been in the hospital before, in treatment before, I've done the whole song and dance all the way through about a million times. But until you actually want to get better, you wont. This is my second week of day hospital, and it's not easy. In fact it's the hardest thing I've ever done. I haven't been perfect in the process either, I've slipped up and even rebelled. My weekend home was horrible, I lost nearly 5 pounds last week, and I didn't eat all of my food if any.
I've had a lot to think about for the past while, especially today. And I've definately made up my mind, for the better.

I'm not cured, I'm not all better, but I'm willing to work towards it. Because I know that I do need to get better, I want to live. I want to spend the rest of my life with the people around me that I love, and not with ana.
I wont let my family, my friends, the love of my life, watch me die. I don't want to leave this world that has so much to offer, the world that I have so much to offer to.

I will have bad days, and I'll have good days. But my goals will remain the same,
I want to be healthy.
I want to eat normally.
I want to enjoy life.
I want to learn to forgive myself.
I want to accept myself.
I want to accept others.
I want to live.
I don't want to die.
I don't want to push everyone away.
I don't want to be pushed away.
I don't want to be miserable.
I don't want to starve.
I don't want to continue this nightmare.

I will beat this, and there's no doubt about that. I will beat this, there's no I might or I think I can. I will do it because I have faith in myself. And I have faith in those around me, the people I love the most. I trust them, and I trust them when they say that they don't want to lose me.

Anorexia will push everything that matters to you, away.
My mom already expressed that if I don't eat, I don't belong in her house. That's her bottom line, I don't recover, she wont watch me die.
My very best friend expressed that it's too much, he can't watch me die either. He believes that I want the eating disorder in my life more than I want him. He's frustrated, and ready to leave. He wont stay if I wont recover. In fact he's contemplating leaving now until I recover, if I do. And then again, he might not even ever come back.
And my friends? Oh, they've given up.
If you think that it wont happen to you, then think again.
An eating disorder doesn't bring happy fun times, it brings pain and suffering.

You deserve to recover, you  have worth. Weither or not you believe it, the people around you do. Even if you think no one cares, someone does. You deserve recovery, you deserve to live, to be happy, to loved and not be afraid to love back.
I deserve it.
I do not deserve to starve, I do not deserve to die. I don't deserve to suffer this way, no one does.
Never say you can't, because you can.
It's hard, and it might even seem impossible. But it's not.

Pro ana is bullshit. And deep down you know it too. It's a cover up, an excuse, a dirty lie. You can't cover up the elephant in the room with a bed sheet, because it wont work.
When you get as thin as you'd like to be, you'll either be dead, or too weak to do the things you aspired to do.
Once you get there, what then? Eat? Oh no, you'll get fat. Remember? Keep starving? No no, you'll die. You don't want that, do you?
Give up? Well that would be cheating, darling.

I'm sorry, but it wont work. You can kick and scream and whine and bitch, but you know what? It's all bullshit in the end. No one forces me to get up in the mornings to go to treatment, that's my choice. I go. At first I felt forced, but no one was forcing me. I always have options. I can either go and get better, have a life, have the love of my life, have happiness. Or I can be kicked out, go starve somewhere else, then die alone and in misery.

There's still a rebellion inside of me, kicking and screaming, clawing at the walls of my mind, driving me to insanity. But this is something that has to be done, and I know it. You know it.
At some point, we all hit rock bottom and break.
You can wallow in your misery and cry, feel sorry for yourself and stay broken. Or you can pick up the pieces and try to put them back together, they wont ever be like it was before it broke. But I can create something new.
It's worth something if you try. That in itself is an achievement.
What do you have if you give up? Nothing. You're left with nothing.

I might still lose the love of my life, the most amazing person in the world. But that's his choice, I love him regardless.
He said some things that hurt, I probably said some things that hurt him. But I will forever be thankful, that he gave me the push that it took to get me to realize that I need this. I need to do this. I need to get better. I need  help. And to get  me to finally open up to accepting it.
This will be incredibly hard, no doubt about it. I might not do perfect every day, but I want to at least have to strength to get up and try it again. No giving up, no breaking down and staying broken.
I
'm still in pain, I'm hurting tonight. I want to dissapear, I want to hide and give up and go back to my ED ways. Say, FUCK YOU. Lock myself away, die. Take that, see what you've done? See how much pain you've caused me? But what good would that do? Isn't that what ended me up here in the first place?
The place to start is to realize that it doesn't work. It doesn't help. Even if you're upset, even if you're on the brink of insanity. Instead of hurting yourself, start taking care of yourself. Start being a part of the solution. Understand that they hurt for you and that they love you, they care about you. But they're frustrated too, and they don't know what to do to help you. If you love them and don't want to lose them, take care of yourself. Show them that you care about them, by caring for youself. SHOW them that you don't want them to go, that you'll do what it takes to keep them around.

I hope that other people can realize it too, and if not now, then soon.
This is no way to spend your life, this is dying. Not living.

P.S.
After this, I'll be leaving xanga.
And I'll be deleting most of  my blog posts.
If you wish to contact me, email me at
overtherainbowthin@yahoo.com

...where exactly do the lines blur?

(I'll follow up on my last blog, just wait until I get these few things out of the way...)

Today I felt so out of place...like I was walking through a whole different world. Every sound, sight, sensation, smell...is sharper, more revealing.
When you know, that in a short while you wont be walking this Earth anymore, it's funny how you pay more attention to the little things.

The rust on the train tracks, the way they shake and squeel as a train comes by... the sickeningly greasy smell of the pizza place you'd never dare to eat at... the soothing pitter-patter of your footsteps down an empty hallway.
Everything is more cherished, and for a moment you think,
"I'll miss this place."
And the next thought is,
"But I wont miss the way I was living in it..."

I wont miss stepping on the scale and holding my breath like I was waiting to hear the death penalty...
I wont miss crying in front of the mirror, twisting my body every which way,  sucking in, breathing out...sucking in, breathing out. Pinching my flesh so hard my skin would stay red for hours...
I wont miss hiding food under my bed, and sneaking out of the house to dispose of it in the middle of the night...
I wont miss the sleepless nights I spent with only my obsessive thoughts to keep me company.
I wont miss living in terror every moment of the day, wondering if the 3 calories in the gum I had would make me gain weight.
I wont miss my hair falling out, my nails breaking, and my fragile and dry skin.
I wont miss being cold in the middle of summer.
I wont miss sleeping during classes because I had no energy.
I wont miss passing out 3-5 times a day.
I wont miss going for walks alone during my lunch hours at school.
I wont miss being a slave to my running shoes.
I wont miss being so self-conscious that I refuse to leave the house.
I wont miss any of those things...
and I will not miss ana.

I'm scared though...for the first time in a very long time.I feel scared...to leave everything  behind. But then I remember, that I don't want to come back to this life...there's nothing good here waiting for me.
I've only been hurt, and hurt myself...
People that I've loved and trusted have betrayed me, played cruel jokes on me, bullied me, tossed me around like a rag doll...
I've punished myself, and tortured myself past the point of breaking.
I'm a prisoner in my own mind, in my own body...I just want to break free.
There's nothing  here for me but pain and suffering.
Happiness is long gone..
The person I used to be is lost.
Who I am now...is blurred, and distorted.

I know that there will be people who will miss me when I'm gone...only when I'm gone.
"You don't know what you've got till it's gone"
It's very true...
I may cause pain when I take my leave out of this world...
But trust me, it's less pain that I will cause if I stay.

Much.
Less.
Pain.

Here we go.


Again.

[Haven't we been here before...? This place seems familiar.
OH WAIT! Yes, yes we have.
How many times have I had to put up with this bullshit over the past 5 years? Too many.]

I'm going to start with my situation with friends.
Most of my friends have caught me purging in the washroom in the past (grade 8 mostly) when I was more bulimic than anything. It was always that heart stopping moment when I'd walk out of the stall and there would be one of my friends just standing there, staring at me.
I'd have that moment of sheer panic...a cold shiver would run up my spine, the back of my throat would tighten, my whole body would feel like it suddenly left the Earth. Then I'd wonder, what do I say? Do I explain? Make up an excuse? Change the subject and act like nothing happened?
Usually it was the last option.
And things would go on like nothing ever happened.

I have what some people could call a best friend, and we'll call her...um...how about...Jillian. Well, she knows a lot about me and my past. She even came to visit  me once, when I was in treatment for 6 months...I both appreciated and dreaded the visit. I kept thinking things like, I hope the other patients behave when she  gets here...I don't want her to think I'm like them. Because, I'm not crazy. Right..?

Anyways, it got to a point where Jillian made up the excuses for me. She'd smile awkwardly after I came out of the bathroom after a long while (if other people were present) and she'd say,
"Hey, did the nose bleed stop?"
She'd make up excuses for me, and it both helped me and hurt me at the same time.
She's even taken up the 'responsibility' of eating the lunches that I take to school, and telling my parents that I've eaten if need be.

I don't know weither to be thankful or not.

My parents however...when they first realized that the shit hit the fan(again), they forced me to eat and watched me eat. Every. Single. Bite. ...wouldn't let me even go to the washroom even if I genuinely needed to take a leak afterwards.

But as the days wore on they got more slack and more slack again...and soon enough I was back up to all of my ugly tricks again, and now this is the end of my second day of the 30 day fast.
I want to scream,
"ARE YOU BLIND?!"
But then again I want to stay silent and thank them for the ignorance.
You'd think they'd had  learned by now.

I'm guessing that they're waiting for November 15th, as I am.
Waiting for the 'professionals' to whisk me away so they don't have to deal with me anymore.
I'm so lost...
I am broken.
And I don't know how to get fixed.
Or even if it's possible at this point.
I've done recovery, and I've done relapse, and more recovery, then relapse after relapse after yet another relapse.
Five years of the same tiring song...

I want it to both end and continue.
But I think that those who read this understand completely.

I hate to admit this.
But I truly want to die.
But not right now.
No.
Never.
I could never imagine the embarrassment of having someone walk in on my big fat walrus corpse laying on the floor in my own blood.
At least I'll weigh less without all that blood.
Oh shut up you, no one asked you to contribute to the conversation, Ana!
Alright alright, I'll stop with the inside ED jokes.

But I really mean it...I'd probably commit suicide right now if I didn't think that I was too fat to die.
And as I mulled it all over...
I realized.

I think I'm crazy.