Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Starving? Never.

I haven't purged since Monday or so. But I haven't pooed either, so I need to go get some laxatives.

I'm not purposely starving myself all the time. A lot of the time I just don't feel the hunger anymore.

I'll weigh on Friday. Though I already know I'm lower than the 135lbs by my birthday goal. I wonder if I'll be at 130lbs...

It's getting harder now. Samir knows I'm being sick and keeps doing things like going straight into the bathroom after dinner. But it makes me all the more determined. I need to be perfect for him. I need to be perfect for me.

Tits and Banter say I've become more womanly in my  figure. I've actually lost over half a stone in two weeks. Hooded jumpers make a welcome return.

I'm playing the game. But am I winning or losing?

Dear me, get it out quicker.
Let's lie again... You loved your dinner.

Friday, 19 August 2011

Bump In The Night

Can't sleep. Won't sleep. Minutes tick by and hours pass by, but all
I can feel is the violent clawing of something within me. But there can't be
anything within me. I'm empty.

Boyfriend is awake and asks what's wrong,
Nothing's wrong, can't you see? Nothing's wrong.
Drink some water to dull the pain. But this sort of pain never leaves you.
She never leaves you.

You embody her, know her. Now you are her.
When you purge, you are her.
When you pick at food to paint a false picture, you are her.
When you've lost all hope,
but she's in the back of your mind, telling you to carry on,
You've lost yourself.

I've lost myself. Within the numbers, the negatives, the lies and deceit,
I've lost myself.
I'm losing you. Within the numbers, the negatives, the lies and deceit,
I've lost you.

We used to count on eachother, remember? Through thick and thin,
through tears and smiles.

But I'm not me anymore.
I'm sorry.

Thursday, 18 August 2011

Grr, who is anon!

Anon please just reveal your name, I can't keep doing this! Tell me who you are and I'll come to you, but you can't come to me because I don't live in the same place anymore. I moved to near the Tescos in Heath.

I purged yesterday. Leyla was downstairs with my mum, and my mum's fiance. It's like I've taken a million steps backwards. But secretly I'm thrilled. Secretly knowing what I'm doing to myself makes adrenalin rush through my body.

Physically I'm not ill. Mentally I'm not ill.

Maybe if I repeat those enough they'll come true. Now 9 stone 4lbs.

Wednesday, 17 August 2011

Anon, who are you?

Ring ring, the telephone goes. I won't answer it because I know
what's waiting for me on the end of the line.
My partner is looking for excuses not to be mine.

Waves wash through and cause decay, when did my emotions
become this way? I'm devoid of everything. Can't feel a thing.
All I know is that something is missing.
But there are no metal hangers at this new house,
and the prospect of knives scares me to hell.

What is this that I've become? A trickster of my own right.
Painting a picture for all to see.
On facebook I put the older fatter pictures of me
But don't say a word, or else they'll all know.
The Hazel they know died a long time ago.

Monday, 15 August 2011


Hazel. You need help, coz this ain't right. Ana is not a person, it is a figament of your mind that impairs your visual outlook your on body. You've been like this for years, I thought you were getting better and moved on from this. for Leyla's sake. But cleary not give her 2 more years before she starts sicking down the toilet if she already hasn't now. Well done on your journey to come a skeleton. Well Eventually you'll be 6 feet under. and 4 stone and dead. So maybe your sister might be saved from this horrible mental diseased., Unless by some miracle you see that your lifestyle is not healthy and you get a reality check. Coz this ain't living.

By Anonymous
Anonymous, you brought me to tears. Who are you? You're one of two people, this much I know. Leyla can't end up like me, I won't let her. Yet sometimes I see glimpses of what she could become. I don't want this, I don't want to be ill. The prospect of dying, though sometimes welcomed, is scary. I don't know how to change. The weight drops, some comes back, more drops, then a little more comes back. It's like my mind is playing a game over and over again.
It's not about a reality check, I know this is wrong and I know this isn't healthy. But I can't live any other way.
Please tell me who you are.
I feel suffocated. This isn't living. My BMI is in the 18s now, and I have ready access to scales, and a gym around the corner. I can't keep doing this, but I can't stop.
One friend, two friend, three friends four,
How many more will you throw out the door?
You don't need them, you only need me
I'll show you how many lbs lighter you will be.

Friday, 5 August 2011

Tick Tock.

Tick tock. Tick tock. You're wasting your life. Run down the stairs, one at a time.
You fat bitch, look what you've done.

Feel your ribs, your lungs expand. How empowering it is to run your hand
along each one...
Keep up the pretense, you know you don't need to eat.
Let me do the talking, they won't be able to tell.
See I've taken over and the lies start to spill.

"I'm happy. I love you. I can't wait to break fast." Why're you squirming?
We're beating them at last.

Don't you remember what I told you before? You can't run and hide anymore
 because now I've got you back
And I won't let go. So smile and dance and put on a show - who're you fooling with that shit sharade?

Put some effort into it.

One potato, two potato, three potato, four.
Let's hide dinner in the drawer.
One retch, maybe two or three.
"I love your dinner" says the toilet to me.

Can't escape, won't escape.
I'm lost in the tunnel.
My soul died a while ago.

Thursday, 4 August 2011

Fasting for thirty days.

Oh how I love having been born a muslim. I can fast during Ramdhan and no one can question my reasoning.
I don't believe in God.

How can he be there when we walk, trailing bleeding wrists. When our stomach are stretched beyond repair.
When people are dying and no body cares, how can he be?

How can he be there when our tears are falling, and stomachs are heaving. When yet another lie is told:
"I'm okay". But how can you be?

Our bodies rot, but we aren't dead. Not really.
We walk and we talk and we laugh empty laughs. But our souls aren't here. Not really.

So don't wax lyrical about the Man Above, when children are dying, and marriage isn't love,
Don't tell me He's watching, and he has a plan and he's there. How can he be?

So now it's thirty days of soul cleansing fasting?
Ha, I'll meet you in Hell. We'll see who's laughing.

Wednesday, 3 August 2011


Work internet is about to die, so just thought I'd quickly update! Only eaten 200 calories since the day before yesterday, and I've signed up for spinning classes. I'm not at my highest yet, but I am back at 140lbs which is disgusting. I'll be at 130 by my birthday.

Fuck being a fat 18 year old.

Monday, 1 August 2011

Bitch had it coming.

I told you it would happen. You knew you couldn't carry on this way anymore. Filled out nicely they said. It's good to see you aren't ill anymore they said. Look at those lovely new curves.

How dare you. Only I can fill the hole you try to fill with food. Only I can make you worth something. But you go against me every time. You fight me. Why? For normality? |Don't make me laugh, you could never be normal. Just look at you.

I see those rolls that're developing, I see that muscle losing tone and definition. Just because the numbers are smaller. It doesn't mean anything. You're fat. You make me sick. Why should I even bother? I should leave your ass to get fatter and fatter. I should leave you to follow in the obese footsteps of your mother. You're going to be just like her. And it's all your fault.

I'm sorry Ana, please don't leave me. I need you.

See. You come running back everytime. But now I won't even let you go in the first place.