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Showing posts from 2009

"That I essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft..."

What was it that made me this way?

I was talking to my ex boyfriend and he asked me if I still drew.
I'd forgotten that I used to draw.
I was talented at it. Like I was at all the arts I suppose.... drawing, poetry, music....
at least I still write.
And only when he brought it up again did it strike me - how dead I am now - how mechanical - how sober - how cold... like so much around me.
My creativity has been so slowly smothered by this heartless world that I didn't even notice it dying. And now I'm left standing in the middle of a choking expanse of city - just a plain face to be networked by soulless bellies full of money.

If I ever make it as a lawyer I will be dead. I won't be Ophelia anymore.
Do you understand?
I'd be one of them. The Unfeeling. Superficial Unfeeling. PLASTIC. A corporate mould of perfected plainness.
I don't WANT to be like that for the sake of being normal.
This is me: emotional, passionate, wild, untamed, full of pain and heart and insanity. But …


Dear everyone
I hope you are all having a very Merry Christmas, I hope you are all safe, with your families and I hope you are all well. I want to take this opportunity - in case you don't all already know - to tell you all how much I love and value you and how much you all touch my hearts everyday. I hope you know that I am walking and cheering you every step of the way until you reach your dreams....

* * *

I am so thankful for this cyber somewhere over the rainbow. Our buzzwords: 'beauty', 'perfection', 'thin' - they are so socially unacceptable - not right to think - not right to believe in or desire.
All I hear is their anger, whenever I explain that I want to be perfect.
"You should be happy and accept yourself as you are."
"BUT WHY?! I know I can be better than this, so why shouldn't I work to be better? Why should I accept myself in this lowly state? - WHAT is so wrong about wanting to better myself and strive for perfection?!"


I've been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past two or three weeks - Consciousness between this world and that, between London and heaven, between then and now... My name is Ophelia ... sometimes Sometimes I'm drowning, sometimes I'm soaring, sometimes I'm so alive I can't feel anything except the pulse rushing through my head, sometimes I'm so dead I need a knife to make me bleed. . . On Thursday I was 'happy' and 'normal'. I was SO happy and normal. I went to law school, made it in for the 9am lecture start, sat between two of my girlfriends, giggled though the whole day with them, went out with my tutor group for drinks and a meal at the end of the day, laughed, chatted incessantly and finally took the first footprints in the thick, fresh snow as I wandered home in the early hours with a sweet smile on my face. And then I shut the door, and I'm drowning again, until the next time...

* * *

His name is "D". Yes - another male nam…


I think this has been the longest I have been away.
Or it feels like the longest...
A combination of event planning, essays, job - and an overwhelming sediment of stagnant weight - are my excuses for abandoning you all - and I am aware that they should not be excuses. I haven't posted, I haven't read, I haven't commented and I haven't replied - but I will do better, so please forgive me.

In my last post I told you that I was being interviewed for a waitressing job - and I did indeed get the job - much to my joy and relief. I've done a couple of shifts so far and apart from my first night when I broke about 20 glasses and dropped cream cheese down a guest's jacket, it's been ok. The only downside is the food... every night the waiting staff get to eat all the leftovers - and there's a lot of leftovers, and it's all ridiculously incredible.
I have never found it so hard to resist food.
I'm not talking the urge you get for a midnight bread binge... I…

"...I want a perfect body; I want a perfect soul."

I've been wanting to write for days now. But it's all been quite depressing. And everything I wanted to write about... has somehow disappeared from my head... All I know is that I feel quite dead.
This week is going to be hell. Quite simply, full on, full throttle, burning hell.
Ok. I've got to submit my first assessment next Monday - one week away. Ok. That's ok, you know, it's ok. A week is ages. I used to knock out essays in a day at uni. I know my topic, I know what I have to do, I just have to do it. And I will. Fuck the rest of the shit in my life. I WANT TO BE TOP OF MY CLASS IN EVERY SINGLE ASSESSMENT. Perhaps more than anything I want to prove a point. Ask any member of my class who the least intelligent person is and I guarantee every single one would say me (yes I know I have an inferiority complex/paranoia anyway but I still think they genuinely believe this.) And I know it's my fault that they and my tutors all probably think this - because of the way I a…

Vicarious sensation

Little sparks of happiness...
from an ashen grey wreckage...
my world...
Yes there are bright little sparks sometimes which jolt sensation back into my fingertips.

When I finally found the courage to go back to law school this week after over a week of hiding away, I felt foolish.
It was fabulous to be back.
Fabulous because I was just normal. I just forgot about my eating.
I chatted and laughed, saw my friends again, felt emotion again and wasn’t alone anymore.

I don’t have to be alone and miserable. Behind the fastened doors of my silent home is an incredibly vibrant world. Living. Every time I need to get somewhere in the City of London, I walk. Just to fall in love with the spirited streets, the structures, the history, the visions, the pulse. Breathtaking. But I admire the sights on my own – because I prefer it that way.

I was 17 when, as a heart-broken teenager waiting for him to text me back, I fell in love with the City.
I stepped off the train at 09:30 and disappeared.
It was so liberat…

All the way

You guys are so kind.
Always - always - your comments mean so much to me.
Never in a million years did I think...

But it's been a bad week. I didn't go into college once.
This is not university anymore. I'm doing the law conversion course. I can't just take a week off because I feel fat and ugly.
But I...
I know I can't go in when I am. And I am. I am fat and ugly.
I couldn't bear to have to walk into that lecture theatre with everyones eyes on my fat thighs in jeans and then sit in the library where anyone can walk past and see my chubby and blotchy face. They'd all see me. My friends. M.
Fuck M. Why the HELL do I have to have feelings for him?!
I couldn't go into college because I was so scared he'd see me. I was so terrified he'd see how fat and ugly I was. So I hid away for a week and missed all my lectures. What-the-absolute-fuck-is-wrong-with-me!
... oh... yeah...

And now I have fresh red lines on my arms and I'm even fatter after eating this wee…


A narrative of the last few days…

So Friday was the big day. I went back to my university town for the Annual Dinner Night of my old society. All present members and all alumni – all my best friends, all my old lovers, and the place that made and broke my reputation.

Thursday: all I ate all day were two sweets.
And I only ate them because M offered them to me on two separate occasions in the library.
(M – the law school guy I can’t stop myself from being besotted with.)
I was convinced that I looked terrible that day so I hid in the library at law school during our break. I hadn’t seen M all week, but that day, I left my desk for two minutes and returned to find he had sat himself two seats away. I was mortified and pretended not to see him… although from that point on I found it impossible to concentrate on my books…
He spoke to me first, and obviously when he offered me a sweet I couldn’t say no for fear of looking weird / seeming rude.

Anyway, straight after my day at college was over I w…

Heading towards the light

It has, generally, been a very good week. I averaged at about 600 calories every day. Well, until last night and today – where I hit about 2000 in some relief binging – or whatever. Yes I am pissed off at myself. But no, I am not going to binge and moan and binge some more. I had a good week. Overall.
I had a week off from law school so I was on a work experience placement at a law firm in my favourite part of the City. Oh I had forgotten how wonderful it is to feel hungry!! Constantly fighting away that constant twist inside with a smile of delight.
Oh my God I’m shrinking! Visibly - I can see it!
I went right back to the glorious days when I was 15 - exactly the same diet - Half a sandwich at lunch, half a sandwich at dinner, and a piece of chicken/fish with vegetables/fruit. Gloriiiiiious!
I can't believe it, I'm finally getting back to the way I once was.

So yes, today I ate – two whole actual meals – and biscuits – and then threw up twice. Now I was NOT bulimic when I was 15 –…

Too much voltage

I’ve fallen for the most beautiful guy.
And nothing hurts more.
I’ve still got the scars from the last time I fell… all the times I have fallen.
My heart is aching - more than the tearing muscles in my over-exercised legs.

I hate it when I have feelings for a guy. There is simply nothing worse. Whenever I like a guy – every time I like a guy – it means heartache, insecurity, tears, binging, self-harm, anxiety, despair.
In other words, for me, men are synonymous with pain.
All the worst periods of my life – those darkest, bleakest times where I prayed I wouldn’t wake up in the morning – came off the back of heartbreak.

I keep trying to put him out of my head. It’s ridiculous that I like him. It’s ridiculous that I have NO control over my emotions. How can my heart govern my senses so completely?

He’s half Japanese, half English - Eurasian like me, but with more tan and unbelievably incredible green eyes. He’s a petite guy – so not most girls cup of tea – but to me… well… how can I put it…
I was…

Dear Non-ED (a.k.a. 'normal') Friends...

So, it appears that the girls at law school still count me as a friend after my excessive drunkenness last week.
But friends - female friends - they come at such a price for the eating disordered...

I'm at the college all day, everyday - a lecture first thing in the morning and a workshop last thing in the afternoon - which means that we have a four-hour break in the middle.
Since my very first day I've spent these four-hour breaks with a bunch of girls in my lecture group - and while they are really nice and I'm so grateful beyond belief that I made friends so quickly, it's a MASSIVE struggle for me.
Having an eating disorder is so easy when you spend most of your time by yourself - no-one gives a damn if you ate and no-one knows any better if you did or you didn't. Having an eating disorder is shit when you have to pretend to be all smiley and normal all day long. It's shit when you have to spend lunchtime with your 'friends' who constantly talk about foo…

Irresponsible post.

It was the Fresher's Party for my law school a few days ago.

You can already tell I fucked it up can't you.

I got drunk. I mean annihilated. Threw up everywhere.
My new friends... superficial friends - don't like girls that behave like me.
I told a girl I was bulimic - after I had to stick two fingers down my throat outside a new London club to get the liquid poison out.
"I could tell," she said, "You never eat."
I'd be amazed if those girls are still friendly with me on Monday.
I hadn't planned on acting like trash, but I hadn't eaten for days and my starving body couldn't take the alcohol
...and as standard, drunk and blacked out from sickness, without a sensation in my body, I ate and ate and ate - until I thought my heart was going to stop - but I wasn't scared.

Holly yes, I do believe. I've done it before. I'm doing it again. Stay with me. Be strong, you deserve happiness.

The pretty, paper mask is crumbling.

But it's so easy t…

I'm fine

I'm trying so desperately to be normal.
I've started a new life...with new surroundings...
and a new me
...a new me which is a fabrication
a lie
a wish
...everything I want to be.

I've had a couple of full days at law school now.
A nice, pleasant, friendly girl.
Very NICE.

I am the girl whose scars you cannot see,
I am the girl who won't eat in front of you,
I am the girl who desperately wants to pull out her pocket mirror every 5 minutes
but struggles to keep the monster at bay,

because I don't want anyone to know she exists.
I don't want to be the girl with the disorder.
I don't want to be the monster.

My body is the weakest it has been in a long time.
I'm not sure how much longer it can take.
It's scary, but I have to be realistic. I'm fucking fragile right now. I press my hands to my forehead and I can feel my cold skull breaking through my papery skin.
I can't eat tomorrow.
I almost fainted throwing up today.
And then I ate. about 2…
Pretty red beads bloom around my arms;
A chain,
Which I can never cut through
Never deep enough -
I just Maintain
Lord Mirror - The King -
Everyday I kneel
Before a cold ceramic ring
with a bottomless pool reflection.
False idol, you would never tell me lies -
I choke
on the ashes of your face;
And bleed
by the daggers of your eyes.
-You have such pretty eyes-
Glass vision
never falters
always staring me back down
because you know I’ll never break you back
Even when it all goes black.

Law School

I have returned from my overseas travels, sunburnt and pimply... yuck. Ok so I'm only sunburt on my shoulders and have like 3 spots but still, really, really not what I needed for my first day of law school.
How was it?
Better than expected to tell you the truth.
I had this image that everyone one there would be really intelligent, really boring and really aloof, but actually everyone I met seemed really nice and down-to-earth. I met two girls at the start who were really lovely and I hope I stay friends with them for the rest of the year, we seemed to have a lot in common. Of course there are loads of beautiful, thin girls in my lecture group, but not overwhelmingly so, like I had imagined.
In my class there are two pretty girls, one ugly large girl and the rest are average... (I know I'm a superficial bitch describing people this way.) There are two - maybe three - attractive guys, but none of them hit me in the face saying w-o-w, and that's probably a good thing as the last…

the other side of the world

I've been in Malaysia for the last week and am in Bangkok and Singapore for another week.
This is the first time I've had internet here in my hotel in Bangkok... even now, posting this I feel like a stranger to my blog, to this world...
I've been trying to restrict but it's been impossible.
I feel so ... lost ...
I've been visiting my mum's family (regular readers will know she's one of the tiny, doll-like, asian breed).

It's all so hard and confusing... this head.

But I haven't binged since I've been here (because all my food has been served up/chosen for me, and I haven't thrown up because I haven't had a single moment of privacy. (Even as I write this my Mum is lying on the bed behind me).

I guess it's ok out here, no one really knows me. My family members here will become forgotten and alien again to me when I fly back to my life on the other side of the world.

And yet when I do go back home, I know it will be worse than before.
I'm s…

Home is where the fast is

I am finally home.
My unhappy sanctuary.
I have come home for the last time.

I used to pack my bags on Thursday afternoons when I was at university and get the cheap train home for a long weekend. It was worth the hassle and the long journey just to have a house to shut myself up in alone – a house where things were ordered and sober – where there were no men; no threats, no temptations. Home was the only place where I could cover up my body beneath a thick duvet and forget that it existed.

It was a difficult two weeks at camp as you can no doubt tell from my last post. I got away at most mealtimes with just eating vegetables and fruit. There were many arguments as usual, but I give up now… I have yet to meet anyone (in the flesh) who understands and supports my desire to better myself. Perfection, to everyone I know, seems to be a mere fiction in a world that proudly accepts its disgusting self. If it weren’t for this blog, my followers, commenters, I would never be able to believe …


I'm on Camp.
Somewhere in some bleak, uninhabited part of rural Northern England.
Just under two weeks to go...
I meant to post before I left but didn't have the time. God I hate being away from home and internet! I'm currently paying £1 for this 30 minute connection in the bar so I can write.

I thought this camp would be a great opportunity for me to get away from all the temptations of the kitchen at home. I have to eat three meals a day with the rest of the people that I work with. So no snacks and no opportunities to buy or binge on food when I get weak.
I get here and am given the itinery.
Massive piss ups almost every night with my team, led by guys with beer guts three times the size of the rest of them. Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol - the most calorific thing on the planet... that makes my belly swell and makes me crave food and makes me lose control of my willpower to restrict. Alcohol, alcohol, alcohol... that is all these people do! Oh and when they're not drinking th…


I found out that 15 years before he died from cirrhosis of the liver, my dad was prescribed Antabuse - in other words, he was being treated for alcoholism.
So he knew he was an alcoholic long before it killed him. I had always thought it was a secret.

I questioned her about it.
"If he knew, then why didn't he stop? Why didn't he get help?"
She defended him, "It was an addiction. He tried, I know he did try, he really did try... but he couldn't stop." So she knew too.
"But he knew! He should have got help!" I stopped myself from telling her she should have made him get help as well.
"No, Ophelia, you don't understand. It's an addiction... like a drug addict... they know what they are doing is harmful, but they can't stop. I know he did try."

So when I opened cupboard doors and found secret stashes of vodka, inconspicuous coke bottles filled with white liquid, cups of 'washing up water'...that was him trying was it? I was …

Who's in my head full of beauty

This post is not so much about thinspiration, but the women who inspired my vision of beautiful perfection, made me believe in it, aspire to it... head full of beauty inspiration.

Vivien Leigh

I've been in love with Vivien Leigh since I was about 5 years old. be truthful I was in love with Scarlett O'Hara. Gone with the Wind has been my favourite film since I saw it as a little girl. I was completely blown away by her; her beauty, her courage, her power...Vivien is absolutely tiny in some scenes of Gone with the Wind, her figure was perfect. According to the book, the character of Scarlett had an 17 inch waist. W-O-W. (Proof that my lifetime idol had an ED surely!)

This last picture is my favourite of the whole movie. It's where she walks into Ashley's birthday party and knows everyone is talking about her, but her poise and the look on her face just says it all: "I'm beautiful. I'm better than all of you." Oh, I love it. I've wanted…
for fucks sake.

I had to eat a MASSIVE lunch that should have been for three people and then half a pizza - a pizza - that's not even real food! It's fucking sickening. No wonder I'm so disgusting at the moment. I can't even seem to throw it all up any more its just all sticking to my body as fat.

I really have had enough of keeping up this act of eating shit so that people don't think I'm a freak. I'm gonna eat the bare minimum on this camp. Just bits of fruit and veg at one meal maybe. And if they don't like it they can bitch about me all they want. I do not care anymore. I'm an adult. I should be able to eat what I want.

I am so frustrated with everything.
How did I let myself get so fat again. SO FAT OPHELIA AGAIN. SO FAT.
No, no, no, they can stick their fatty food into their own oppressive mouths. Why should they have any control over mine.

I wish I could just be with people who supported me. Pe…

One of the girls

Apologies for the long, long absence.'s been two weeks - but it feels like months! I have some SERIOUS catching up to do with you all, I hope you are all staying strong and I promise to read all your blogs in the next few days. I know I say it time and time again, but I couldn't do this without you all, you're all so kind and supportive to me and you've never even met me! It really means a lot.

So, what has happened in these last two weeks then?
Well, I guess I'd better start with that party I was preparing for when I wrote my last entry.
All the weight I lost for that has gone straight back on. I don't even want to talk about it. I came home and binged constantly for three days straight. All that hard work. Thrown away.

I dunno what I can write about that party anymore. Did I look thin? Did I look pretty? Did 'C' want me?
I don't know.
I can only tell you that in my head I looked fat, my belly stuck out, my cheeks were chubby, my calves were mo…

Starving for

I hate the icky side effects of a starvation diet.
My hands are cold and clammy; the skin on my arms is dull and papery. My shoulders droop with weakness, I couldn’t lift anything at the moment. I’m just so tired.
I must apologise for not commenting/replying in the last few weeks, I've only been getting on the computer at work and am a bit paranoid about having a computer screen of ED sites. I'm finishing this week so I promise I will catch up!!

I’ve had some incredible resolve recently in order to get these sickly starvation side-effects. There's a big party at work tonight. I knew I had to starve for it. I have to look thin tonight; have to look beautiful; have to look the best; have to look perfect; have to make ‘C’ want me.

...I didn’t think he would have been invited. Then he told me on Monday morning that had been invited and was indeed coming, so I haven’t eaten since except for some cucumbers, tomatoes and apples. I’ve been pumping the laxatives as well to clear that o…