hello again..

So, I haven't posted in a while. I've been going to a nutritionist for about a month (i think?) now, and lately, it's really been a struggle. For the first weeks, I had been gradually gaining weight, and the doctor (we'll call the nutritionist that) was pleased with my efforts. But honestly, my body image has really been suffering. It's getting harder and harder to force myself to eat each meal, and Clara is getting incredibly strong. I don't really know what I'm doing wrong.. But somehow, Clara is steadily gaining power. I find myself constantly rebelling at just the thought of letting go of her. My identity is tied up in this disease that has taken over my mind. When i think of myself, i think.. "Jeanne the anorexic." I can't separate myself from Clara, even in my mind. I can't imagine life without this, I just don't know what it could be like. I don't remember real happiness, how to feel carefree. I don't remember how to eat ice cream without guilt and self-hatred taking over after three bites.
i used to love ice cream.
but i'm fat, fat, fat, and i get fatter every day. when i'm out, i can see their eyes, everyone, only seeing me for what is outside. and there isn't much good to see. When i stand, i hate to let my arms touch my sides. and the day that I can see no sunlight through the opening between my thighs, will be the worst day of my life. See, this is who I am. this cold heart who is tied up in her identity of self hatred. I'm not worth loving, because I can't love well enough myself.
Just wait, and watch where I go.
have you ever seen the Manassas Fairy? she always walks alone. she walks for hours through the town, with her thin thin legs, and her long wispy hair. I expect I'll end up like her one day. Walking alone through the streets, working off the effects of the one meal I allowed myself to eat in my lonely apartment that day.

Don't believe anything you hear otherwise, anorexic girls aren't happy.

wintergirls

Call it selfish, call it cocky, but I like to feel strong. I like to feel in control. but just the other day, i read this quote, and it made me think. hard.
"You’re not dead, but you’re not alive, either. You’re a wintergirl, caught in between the worlds. You’re a ghost with a beating heart. Soon you’ll cross the border and be with me. I’m so stoked. I miss you wicked.”
it scared me. i read this quote, and i was afraid. I could no longer fool myself into believing that I'm strong. I had to admit that I'm just a frightened little girl who's in way over her head.
Because this quote, it was Clara talking straight to me. "Soon you'll cross the border and be with me." Clara wants me with her. I don't want to be where she is. I don't like the side of me that is Clara. Rather, I don't like the side of me that Clara has influence over. I am not Clara, no part of me is Clara. I am a wintergirl. i understand why the book is called Wintergirls. Anorexia hardens you. tries to shut out the love and the warmth and leave only the bones. only the cold bones.
Clara is waiting on the other side for me. she can't wait to have me with her. so yesterday i made a promise to my best friend: I will never cut again. Because although I've failed at so many things, I have not failed at keeping my promises. so I will never cut again. I made this friend promise to hold me accountable, and so the slippery slope has an ending, at least in this area.
God is good, love is here, life will go on.

Clara's new weapon.

it started exactly a week ago. last saturday. i was angry and upset, the reason is not important, so i came to my room to be alone. i had to be alone. i felt so upset, i had to do something! so.. i grabbed something sitting on the shelf of my desk. a screwdriver.. the kind with the sharp tip. and i cut a slit in my wrist. and another. and another. by the time i was finished, i had nine cuts on my wrists, one on my shoulder, and two on my chest. it was a rush while i was cutting. the physical pain drowned out the pain in my heart. but the pain faded. and so did the rush. i just fell to the ground.. i was too ashamed to stand on my own two feet. i lay there for maybe five minutes.. and then put on a long sleeved shirt and went back downstairs. i didnt want anyone to know what i had done. but Mimi asked what was going on, she could tell something was off. and I couldn't lie to her. we went to her room, and i showed her my wrists. she held me while I cried. Mimi supported me and took care of me that day, encouraging me to tell my parents and then even telling them for me. My parents were so kind too. I am so blessed to have such a family. i decided to never cut again.. i had to do it for the ones who love me.
 I had not thought about the aftermath of the cutting. my wrists ached that night... with a dull, tired ache. at school that monday, i wore long sleeves, and carefully hid my cuts from the world. it was hard to hide them all this week. eight people in all have noticed, to six of them i told the truth. to the other two, i did not answer. i could not lie about this, so i said nothing.
my cuts are fading into scars.
but Clara has this new weapon. every day since, i have been tempted to cut again. i crave the release of the pain. i've been doing the butterfly project to help resist this temptation. with the butterfly project, you draw a butterfly on the place where you are tempted to cut. then, you name it after someone you love very much. this makes it so you don't want to cut there anymore, because you'd kill the butterfly. and if you kill one, you kill them all. it's basically just a reminder that cutting yourself breaks the hearts of the ones you love.
i'll keep trying to resist these temptations. and keep praying.

misery loves its company.

Today, i was just looking up anorexia, just to see how other people feel about it, and learn more about my condition. A blog came up in the search results. a pro-anorexia blog. girls post how they feel on it, how much they've lost or how much theyve gained. and the actual blog has pictures of thin models for "inspiration." These poor girls feed off each other's self-hatred. The more i read about this blog, it made me want to lose more weight. despite the fact that every post was unhappy. speaking of how much these girls each hated themselves, their bodies, their lives. It was heartbreaking to read. how did Clara gain so much power? These girls drag themselves and each other deeper into their depression. It's so terribly wrong. I know if i let myself read this blog and ones like it, it'd become easier and easier to stop eating completely. I'm adding every girl who reads blogs like this to my prayers. <3

Today's beauty

what do you think of when you think of beauty? I don't know about you, but the first thing that comes to mind is usually perfection. Our culture works to engrain this ideal of perfection into our ready minds. and to an imperfect girl like me, that's often hard to deal with. It's all well and good to tell yourself, "I am beautiful" and try to believe it, but that's not going to do you any good if your perception of beauty is skewed. Clara likes this.. because if we learn to depend on our beauty, we begin to feel like that is all there is to us. "If I'm not beautiful, not perfect, who will love me?" This thought has monopolized my feelings for years. It has made me believe that I am not lovable. Not lovable. It almost hurts to write it. I feel like.. if I don't change this, believe that I can be loved for who I really am, with or without my outer beauty, then I won't be able to see when true love comes along. I don't want to miss my chances. It's hard to trust. hard to believe people when they say, "you are beautiful." Who cares if i'm pretty. So many are, it's not like I'm anything special. The only special thing about me is who I am. Different from every other person in the world. I hope I'll be able to trust it someday.. trust that one "I love you."

my history with Clara

when I was little, I was never that pretty girl.. I feel like i wasn't myself for years. I didn't want to be a tomboy, but I never had a baby doll after the age of three or four.. I wanted one! oh, I wanted one so badly. But what would Johnny think? Johnny is my big brother, the most wonderful big brother in the world. I wanted to be tough, be almost as good as a boy. So no dolls for me. I stuck to bugs and animals and the things Johnny liked. A big part of my life, I don't even remember. I feel like I almost just blocked out the memories.
Then when i was thirteen, I met Clara. Clara made me feel like I could be that pretty girl. Clara gave me the confidence to talk to boys, they were beginning to notice me, but why didn't it make me happy? I started to listen to the things Clara said. I stopped eating breakfast and lunch altogether, for two years I survived on one meal a day. I still don't really understand how I maintained a medically healthy weight. then I left my school to homeschool for a year. Things got worse. Really fast. There were weeks where i would eat nerds. About a box per week. And that was it. Ive never been sadder than I was last year. Or lonelier.
 I finally acknowledged that I had a problem.. And told my family. They have been so amazing about it! Every single one of them. But one in particular. Laura. Laura is my second oldest sister, ten years older than me. I wish I was capable of adequately expressing how amazing she has been. She is so understanding, so loving, so.. so wonderful. Every day I thank God so much for her. I don't know how she does it, but when I'm with Laura, she actually makes me want to eat. no one else can do that. She has never gotten at all angry at me because of Clara. Many others have... I dont blame them, it's impossible to know what it's like to know Clara until you actually do know her.
Now, I go to a psychiatrist once a week. I've only been going about a month. She says I have depression. I'm not surprised. That darkness in my heart.. it couldn't be only anorexia.
Things aren't getting better yet.. I'm back at school, so there are more things to distract me from the sadness. But it's also getting kind of harder. I know I'm getting thinner... I'm eating less than before. But I have hope, I know God is on my side, and I have beautiful friends and a wonderful family who are praying for me and helping me in my war. Theres a light at the end of this long, long tunnel.

mirrors

I think the scariest thing about Clara is her ability to put things out of perspective.. to take away my sense of perspective. it's like when you're in a show, and you're putting on your stage makeup. and all the mirrors are being used by other people, except one, and it's a magnifying one. So as you put on your makeup, all you can see is the imperfection of your face. the nose too round, the cheekbones too pointy. from far away, they don't look like this. but when you can't see the bigger picture, everything looks off, just wrong. When other people look at me, they see a thin girl. but when i see myself in the mirror, all i can seem to see is those fat legs.. that waist too big. I'm not even warned by the contradicting signs, all the bones visible in my back, every rib showing. Where is the disconnect? Why can't I see the bigger picture? When i was little, i used to wonder about anorexia. "why don't they just eat?" someone once told me about how anorexic people see a fat girl when they look in the mirror. i thought that wasn't possible, it was just a figure of speech. It's not. Clara is there... it isn't just Jeanne in that mirror anymore.

not our own beauty.

My mother recently told me that she read a study on anorexia that said that anorexic people often lose their ability to distinguish facial expressions on other people after a while. At first I was shocked, but then i began to see the connection.. Clara turns my gaze inward, on what i hate about myself. And when I'm focusing on what i hate about myself, i begin to believe that other people are thinking of what they hate about me too.. I've already seen that happen in my own case. It's almost like paranoia! Clara forces us to look only at ourselves, at all the bad things and not even see the good things. my beautiful sister Laura once told me that whenever i'm sad or feeling insufficient, i should just think to myself, "I am a child of God." Clara wants us to forget that. She wants us to think that we're on our own, if we don't have merit and worth by ourselves, we have nothing... we are nothing. she wants us to forget that on the sheer strength of being beloved children of God, we are beautiful. Clara goes along with the popular idea in this day and age that we have to be perfect.. she just takes it to a whole new level. Knowing Clara is like wearing sunglasses in a dark room... and it's already dark enough in this world.

knowing clara..

Her name is Clara. I've known Clara for three years, for three long years she has been my constant companion. Clara is the girl in the mirror, that girl inside me who never stops telling me that I'm not good enough. Clara hates when I eat.. Every day she does her best to convince me to stop. I'd be so much happier, so much prettier if I was only thinner. Clara goes by many names, has many faces. My doctor calls her anorexia, my mother calls her my cross. But to me, she is just Clara. I used to see her as a friend, a safety, but now I know that she is not. She is not me.. she sees beauty the wrong way. I myself know that outer beauty doesn't matter, that it is only the beauty within that counts. Clara tries to convince me otherwise every single day. Most days, my body is Clara's ally. I no longer feel hunger, it now goes beyond the mind games. I must fight to eat, against both Clara and my rebellious self. Every pound i lose, i must battle to win it back again, and Clara fights me every step of the way. She asks me why I want to be bigger.. Some days, i have an answer for her. Most days I don't. But I'll never give up on this Battle, I'll never give into my secret adversary. I can't give in to Clara, it's a life or death situation. So every morning, I wake up and go to the mirror. I look into Clara's blue eyes, and I tell her she is beautiful. and every time i do this, Clara loses her power over me. because she begins to believe that she is beautiful, inside and out. Every day, I put a smile on my face and try to muddle through. Most days the smile falters, most days Clara gets the better of me. But one day, I will be able to look at myself in the mirror, tell myself I am beautiful, and actually believe it. I pray and work for that day.. the day I don't have to fight to smile.