A Head Full of Beauty

I studied a book at University called ‘Spasm’ in which the author suggests that someone might create an illness because she ‘knows no other way of telling her life’s tale...the illness a conduit to convey real pain.’ Is that what my eating disorder is to me? The desire to stuff my face and throw up, the need to run until my feet are blistered raw, the buzz from fasting and curling up in a ball locked in the toilet cubical - are these desires created or born from the inner pain I had for so many years and had no way of expressing or feeling physically? Cassio is in the dangerous position of making me remember who I am. I am the girl who devoured books and poetry, wandered around the galleries alone, writing, dreaming, opening up her bare, raw soul to the harsh elements of Art. He is a culture snob. Fine dining, classical music, expensive clothes, European languages, European cities. He could never love London like I do, even as an Italian, his heart will ...

So it didn't really matter that Harry wasn't there in the end. All it meant was that it was a pretty uneventful night in which I drank far more than I needed and... well, nothing happened. My friends have always expressed concern about my lack of fear in walking the streets at night, but I've been doing it for years. Sure, I've had to run off from a few shady characters, I've been jumped on by a licenced London Black Cab driver, I've searched desperately for a friendly taxi on dark streets I didn't recognise, but it says a lot about me really - and as I said in my first post: 'I'm not afraid of any conventional fears.' We ended up in club called Fabric up in North London. It was gone 4am and I was done for the night. I vanished before anyone could start lecturing me. Naturally I hadn't eaten all day to ensure that my body was empty and at its thinnest, so my first stop was to buy food. Alcohol impairs judgement : half a pizza, half a subway s...

When I was 15, I used to wear a laminated tag around my neck, tucked inside my school blouse to remind me of how fat and worthless I was. I must still have it somewhere, hidden away in my cupboard, even though a few years ago I made an effort to throw out all my old notebooks and memories of self-hatred. I made the tag myself, put a picture of the beautiful Scarlett O'Hara on it, wrote about how I could be like her if I tried hard enough, laminated it, ran a long piece of string through to make a necklace. I wore it every day for months. When I was 13 I had to get dressed in the dark, never exposing my body while I changed. I had to lie face down in the bath - I couldn't stand and shower. I had to wear jumpers everywhere to swamp the curve of my growing breasts. When I was 8 I cried alone and in agony because I wasn't pretty. I decided I was the fattest in my class and I never let go of that. However high I hold my head, the truth is that this eating disorder has destr...

Of course, thank you to Anonymous who commented in the last post - I forgot Natalie Portman! Natalie is one of those actresses who I've adored since the first time I saw her for having such flawless and dainty features - I mean, the woman still looked stunning when she shaved all her hair off for V for Vendetta . I went to see Black Swan twice at the cinema and am counting down the days for it to be released on DVD here in the UK. I love that you can see all her ribs in this picture and she has practically no breasts (I would give anything to be totally flat-chested). Anyway, not only am a big fan of Natalie Portman, the film and its ridiculously sky-high thinspirational quality, I am also a big lover of ballet. This Spring I've been to see Swan Lake and Cinderella and have also booked to see Manon and Anna Karenina in London later this Summer. I just love ballet...for all the obvious reasons. And yes, I am the only person I know who likes ballet, and yes, I go on my ow...

Funny, isn't it, the effect alcohol seems to have on my writing. I suppose that's when I feel and write at my most intense, 100% raw and 100% real - no craft. All night I was conscious of the words and paragraphs forming in my head as I danced, as I stood in front of the mirror, as I kissed, as I drank... all I was thinking was how to write it down and speaking it aloud in my head. I don't know when I will stop hating Alex or when I will stop remembering how it felt to touch him. I don't know if I could ever let another man back into my life or if I'll ever want to. History dictates that I always do anyway. It was a shame that I had to drink on Thursday night, and that the drink inevitably led to eating foods that I had cut out of my diet with my Dukan Diet regime. But I'm back on track again, eating only chicken, fish and seafood and drinking only water and skimmed milk. The new gym I joined is totally worth the £100 a month that I am paying. However, I...

So, I have recived this Honesty Award from both Harlow and Flushed  : very touched, thank you :) I've always attributed my brutal honesty to the fact that in my real life and towards real people I have to be so fake. This is the only medium through which I have the freedom to be able to tell everything as it is. As protocol is to give10 facts, and I feel in a 10 facts mood, here are 10 facts: 1. I regularly photoshop my photos on facebook to make myself thinner. 2. Yesterday I threw up three times after eating an uncountable amount of calories. Today I have burnt 500 cals, eaten 1,000 cals in protein/veg/fruit and kept it all down. 3. I'm going to watch Black Swan for the second time on Monday because looking at Natalie Portman's ballet body makes me hyper with the desire to starve. 4. I haven't had sex since I broke up with Alex in August and I'm probably not going to have sex for the whole of 2011. (Watch this space). 5. I miss hot sex. But not as much as...

I have a new training program in place - a 10k training programme to be precise. It's hard to have an eating disorder whilst trying to train intensively at the same time - the two things really do conflict... But the fact is, I'm going to be running some races with Alex and some other super fit guys in the Autumn - after a Summer away on the LDAC that is. Yes, for any American readers, I am coming over to the US for a month to take part in the ROTC Leader Development Assessment Course. I have very little idea as to what it all entails exactly... other than it is something similar to the Territorial Army Commissioning Course we have here in the UK at Sandhurst...? If any of you out there have any info or experience of it I'd love to hear! So, my fitness is pretty good - in fact I can meet the male entry standards for Sandhurst (well on the run and situps anyway - my pressups are sill rather feeble!!) so I know physically I'm in pretty good shape... however it's...

All the power I have comes from the mirror: it comes from seeing fresh, clear skin, big brown all-absorbing eyes, soft dark hair and plump pink lips. From toned legs, a trim waist and slim arms - my power comes from my confidence; my power comes from the way I look. It's a lie, when people say it's what's inside that counts. But we all know this. We all know that's a load of crap. The world is powered by superficiality. As a woman, being beautiful is more important than anything. Period. And I don't mean fake hair-extensioned , plastic beauty, I mean REAL beauty . I mean that naturally glossy smile, that healthy twinkle in the eyes, skin that glows and a body that's lean and fit: with charisma that sparkles. You see, when a woman has all these things, she can command anyone - any man, even any woman. I don't have Real Beauty. But sometimes, with a great deal of effort, I can come pretty close. The experiences I have in this state are simply ethereal . I can...

According to the scales, on Monday I lost half a stone (7 pounds) in 12 hours. Yeah. ERM. I wish?! But seriously. That's what both of my goddam scales told me. Seriously. Are my scales posessed or is my body just THAT ridiculous?! After a lovely 700 calorie session in the gym on Monday and a negative amount of food, I decided to do the same on Tuesday. I hit the gym at around 5pm on an empty tummy. 700 calories later, I left the gym, completely drained of life. I felt like zombie. On the train home it struck me: Stomach-churning nausea. The most intense and disgusting nausea I have ever experienced. I had to press my hand to my mouth to hold it in. My body was rebelling. My stomach was being vile. It was screaming at me to eat. I don't remember walking through the front door, I just remember the bread crumbs when it was over. According to ABC I was only supposed to consume 100 calories. I had burnt off 700, which meant that strictly speaking I could eat 800 calories. But I lost...

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 w...

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 ...

Mmm it's not so bad sometimes, is it? And the second I've written that, the tummy rumbles - it is such an attention seeker. Well I'm gonna teach it a lesson by ignoring it's pathetic cries. My fast is still going well and I am still smiling! Instead of raging headaches and wanting to sleep, I just feel really healthy and happy. I had a day off from all activity yesterday. I am a bad, bad person, but to make up for it, I enjoyed a killer session in the gym today. 600 calories on the treadmill alone and then 1,000 metres in the pool. Usually I'm knackered by the time I get into the swimming pool (always my last activity) but today I was just hammering out the laps easily... can't explain it, but certainly not gonna grumble! I've always had severe hangups about the size of my arms and rather than moaning about it, I've taken to spending that little bit extra time in the gym to use all the machines that work out the arms.Even in the last week alone I'v...

Hmm sorry for the last post. I tend to go all crazy, manic, poetic style when I hit the depth of hell. So last night was the biggest breakdown I've had for quite a while... well a least like two months or something? Really did some scary binging, like really 'think my heart and stomach are failing' kinda scary. And like I mentioned in the last post, I went for the horror look with regards to cutting my arms. Jesus Christ. Did my best to throw up all the food again, don't know how much I managed, but I ate so much I doubt it all came out. Just dissolved into tears and curled up in a ball under my duvet. Oh this might have had something to do with an overdue assessment and 'I need to eat to write an essay' and 'I can't write this essay!' Woke up the next morning and had to face a room strewn with wrappers and plates. Really, I ate ALL that?! So here I am, writing my essay ( yay !). I have to get it handed in tomorrow else I fail my whole year... which...