This anorexia episode.

I've had an ED all my life, since as far back as I can remember. Looking at photos from childhood, and medical height/weight measurements on report cards, I don't show any signs of overweight until I was 9 years old, when I was put on a low-calorie diet (inappropriately) by my mother. It was 1000-1200 calories a day with no change in eating habits and no increase in motion, although I was a pretty active kid. Placing a child on a calorie count like that is dangerous and would never be done today. She didn't know what she was doing, however, so she's excused.

She controlled my eating and weight, and my sister's, as long as I lived at home. She'd put me on a diet, then at some point say I was too skinny and force feed me, then say I was too fat and put me on a diet, again and again for a decade. By the way, I never reached that elusive "correct" weight. In her mind, it was always one or the other, fat or thin. There was never a day that went by that my eating was natural, happy, or otherwise uncontrolled. I was allowed no money, not even as a gift, so I couldn't buy any food if I was very hungry. I couldn't NOT drink her weight gain milkshake concoctions because my father would hold me down and she'd pour it into my mouth. It was easier to swallow than to choke and vomit, so after a while I simply acquiesced and didn't have to be held down anymore.

A little on the sick side? You bet. She was never in her right mind, and remains fucked up even today. During every phone call, she asks me how much I weigh. I lie. She then tells me the details of every meal she had during the intervening days between calls. Every meal, one by one. She's obese. Food is her life. She always talks about how little she eats, which is delusional. Obviously, she has a major ED, so it isn't any wonder my sister and I have them.

This episode of anorexia started, as is common, with a simple weight reduction diet. Probably people with a history of anorexia, or any ED, should only diet under medical supervision. I figured that at my age, there was nothing to worry about. I had to lose about 10 pounds, to get to 145, but wanted to lose 25, to get to 130. I lost exactly 60 in seven months. That's quite a feat when you're starting at 155, because the closer you are to normal weight, the more slowly you lose, as you know.

I've regained three pounds, up to 98 pounds. I'm now dieting to lose them as quickly as possible and get to 88 pounds. There. I've said it. It's out there. I don't want recovery. I want to be thin. I'm sure you can't imagine how fat I feel--immense. I feel as though I didn't even lose one ounce, and that's the truth. As I sit here, I can feel the masses of fat in my butt, waist, thighs, chin, everywhere. I can't stand to be this heavy. It's uncomfortable and makes it difficult to fit into bathroom stalls.

I sincerely believe I don't have AN. By my weight, regardless of how fat I feel, I should be thin, but I refuse to accept a diagnosis of AN. Some part of me accepts that I have an ED of some kind, but not anorexia. No way.

I decided to come clean in this post because of something PrincessDieter said in a comment. I talked about how open and brave Allan is on Almost Gastric Bypass. She basically wrote that we should all be that way, and that she'd broken herself of her fear to post photos, etc. I'll have to get a photo of myself at some point--just bought a cheap camera to do that. I owe a couple of people photos of me; thus I may as well put one up here.

So that's it. I might have to delete this at some point, but not tonight. Tonight it stays up.

Now for sure we're all in this together.