Image by FlamingText.com I'm there as the day draws to a close.
I awaken you abruptly with cold, frantic pangs.
I will never let you hide from my critical gaze.
I am hunger, your friend and wanton enemy.

As long as I hide in plain sight,
Your loved ones will not have a clue.
As long as you surrender to me, my weak one,
I'll give you all that you want and much more.

I applaud as you whittle your fat body down.
And will frown when your iron resolve starts to wane.
If you strive for perfection, I'm here and I'm proud.
All that I want, is to look at your beautiful bones.

They're waiting to break free of your repulsive fat.
How on earth could you explain how euphoria feels?
That special sensation born of rapt self-denial.
The thin is the winner in spite of myself.

Those of you who come to this site to learn about both the pro-ana "lifestyle" and the pro-recovery one will see quite a different website now. I have FINALLY come to my senses and realize that, even with a substantial discourse on those who see anorexia and bulimia as a mental illness, there was way too many pro-ana essays, poems, short stories and a novel-in-progress that seemed to "glorify" the art of self-starvation and dieting, sometimes to the death. My conscience finally got the better of me, so I am completely revamping this website and deleting all "pro-ana"and "pro-mia" literature.

So what triggered me into abandoning the eating-disorder-as-seen-as-a-lifestyle-to-be-admired portion of my page? Well, I have been visiting a number of the pro-ana Xanga sites and boy, have my eyes been opened! I am now attempting to educate them, shaking them up and warning them that anorexia and bulimia are NOT worthy causes and something to be admired and revered. I have a Xanga site as well and am in the process of revamping that sg for six hours, seven days a week. I even went out in thunderstorms, determined to strip the fat from my body. There were many steep hills and my muscles would ache tremendously, but I forged on regardless. I only ate once a day and made sure to keep the calories to a minimum. At the end of this four-month endurance race, I weighed only 85 pounds at a height of 5 foot 3 inches. Any muscle I would have developed from the strenuous workouts wasted away, leaving a skeleton barely covered with skin.

One would think that I would have learned my lesson, as I was hospitalized for over a year and a half----16 months to be exact---during which I learned to deal with the pressures that drove me to run myself into the ground. I was given Zoloft, a pretty potent anti-depressant and intense therapy. I discovered that I had been sexually abused at two years of age when these horrifying flashbacks caused me to remember what an emotionally disturbed babysitter had done to me, before I was even able to walk or talk.

But my problems didn't stop there. I began slashing myself with razor blades at age 14, but had not self-harmed again until I was nearly out of high school. In the years between 1991 and 1999, while I was hospitalized on a psychiatric ward on and off, I cut so badly and with such brute force that my body is practically one big scar. At one point, I cut most of my body, causing a serious loss of blood. Fortunately, I haven't slashed since 2000, but the urge has never completely left me. I have to take things one day at a time.

Here's a poem I wrote when enmeshed in the ultra-frightening world of "Pro Ana:

Image by FlamingText.com I'll run far away from here.
Many miles from my hated mirror.
I've seen the beast; felt his fear
My future could not be clearer.

I must purge the fat from my hidden bones.
It repulses, sickens me.
And like flying, splintered stones
It hurts me----can't you see?

I banned you once, you fatted cow;
Sent you screaming into the night.
But now you're back and I must vow
To claw and tear and fight.

I'll reclaim my power----just wait and see.
You'll no longer taint my life.
I'll emerge one day; I'll be lithe and free
While you dig your grave with your fork and knife.

Running from you will diminish me;
Make me aerodynamic and small.
You will fall by the wayside and see
That I'm not fearful of you at all.

Lonelyheroine.

Image by FlamingText.com I did just what you wanted,
I starved my life away.
But never do I flaunt it
What would my family say?

How are you sleeping with the guilt?
Most likely very well.
Thin isn't how my body's built.
Are you happy there, in hell?

My friends have all deserted me.
They couldn't stand the pain
Damn, is it so very hard to see
That I'll never be free again?

I still see myself as an ugly bloke
So I heaved a chair at my hated mirror
Problem was, I was the one who broke
While my mirror stayed intact and clear.

My traumatized family sat by and watched their daughter, sister, aunt and cousin routinely starve herself into a state of near-death. And after the third episode, they all began to distance themselves from me. I was alone, having lost many friends to my eating disorders. I pretended that this rejection didn't bother me, that everyone was simply jealous of my svelte body and didn't want to have to compare themselves to me. It became a safe, comfortable and friendly place, this throne on which I stood, basking in the giddy notion that I was achieving perfection through starvation and purging and if that meant I was destined to live a lonely and skeletal life, then so-be-it. The thinner was the winner every time.

Image by FlamingText.com I am a writer with an autobiography under my belt. Three chapters deal specifically with the anorexia, exercise bulimia and cutting and the passages are extremely graphic. Writing is my one true love---it has literally saved my life on many different occasions. I will be posting a lot of essays on this site, along with creative endeavors, such as original poetry, short stories and a novel-in-progress. These all deal frankly and honestly with all manner of eating disorders and self-harm. When this website was dealing with the pro-ana lifestyle philosophy, some of the verses and short stories reflected that stance. I have been altering them and will have them posted when they are finished. I communicate much more effectively by writing. I composed my first "novel" at age 12, a lengthy story about running away to join the circus. Of course, it never saw the light of day, as my book of short stories at age 13 remained my secret. At night when I couldn't sleep, I got under the covers with a flashlight, paper and pen and would write until I fell asleep. I ended up with far too little sleep and had trouble in class, but my writing was obsessive. If only I could have stayed focused on my craft. Maybe then I wouldn't have had so many emotional problems.

Image by FlamingText.com I just don't know you anymore.
You're snorting coke right off the floor.
If you falter, then your nemesis wins.
And then your life in hell begins.

Fame can be a prison for the emotionally lost.
You'll get ever-thinner, no matter what the cost. I can clearly hear your cry of pain.
You can't go down that road again.

As for your family: Cut them loose.
And please stay away from that Grey Goose. Find yourself some worthy friends,
Before you crash and your life ends.

Look, you can tell me where to go.
It's not my business----Yes, I know.
But if you find you're life's mess,
You have my number and address.

No-one hears your frightened screams,
Or sees you straining at the seams.
You many die young. Is that what you want?
You look so fragile and so gaunt.

To starve and slash: Does that work for you?
I really know not what to do.
You're so young, yet seem so old,
They left you shivering in the cold.

I guess that's all I have to say.
Please keep your demons all at bay.
Your family seems so put upon.
Before they reach you, you'll be gone.

I managed to get a book published in 1997 which didn't exactly set the world on fire, but at least it got me a publisher who's been very, very understanding and has always been very kind to me. I wrote it to help other people with Borderline Personality Disorder, so I don't regret the outcome.

You will no longer be able to read any pro-ana pieces of literature, as I was doing a disservice by promoting and supporting people to get and stay sick. They have been deleted. The only way I can carry on with this site without succumbing to rapid and constant guilt is to forge onward with my sincere efforts to help people with eating disorders that are severely compromising their health and happiness.

The book's title was "Let Me make It Good: A Chronicle Of My Life With Borderline Personality Disorder">

My Protest Video:
Here's Some Deathspo For You

Enter my Chat Room
Free Chat Rooms by Bravenet.com
Image by FlamingText.com After I had created my own Xanga site and checked out a myriad of sites that primarily advocated eating disorders as lifestyle choices, I met some pretty incredible, articulate, complex people that almost immediately opened my bleary eyes to the stark reality that anorexia kills, it causes the body to waste to such a degree that it ends up being consumed for fuel. I was touched and saddened to find girls and young women who were actively rebelling AGAINST pro ana "wannarexics" and some felt it their responsibility and raison d'etre to fight the dangerous mindset of anorexics-in-training before someone actually died.

One of the more vocal and intellectually gifted pro recovery women goes by the name of Tamaranyc. I met her a couple of weeks ago on her starkly-graphic Xanga site, when I was privy to a large number of photographs of her as a 5 foot 5 inch, 83-pound anorexic. These pictures are highly disturbing and that is the whole idea behind showing them to the world. Tamara has been struggling with serious eating disorders for years and has suffered, pretty much in silence until she gained access to the Internet and was able to put herself out there, to enable teenage girls to come face-to-face with the frightening specter of severe starvation and its sobering results. After I came across Tamara's site, my eyes were finally opened, forcing me to take a long, hard look at the potential damage I was causing by having a pro-ana section to my website. I'm sure I was destined to come across this remarkable and sad individual, so that I would see the error of my ways and get real about the messages I was sending out to young girls online. Thank heavens I stopped before any harm was (hopefully) done.

You are going to see a lot of pictures of rail-thin celebrities, but unlike the use of them as "thinspiration" to spur young women to diet themselves down to the waifish Mary-Kate Olsen, the ubiquitous Nicole Richie, Lindsay Lohan, Hilary Duff and Calista Flockhart, to name but a few. Xanga pages are rife with these vacuous images, along with self-portraits culled from camera phones and webcams of the girls themselves. They offer encouragement, support, as ill-conceived as it may be and, most importantly, they enable the wannarexic Xanga-dwellers to suffer in silence and to actively not seek medical help for something they hold up to their own mirrored images and see, not hollow cheeks, thinning hair and bodies in various states of emaciation, but complete physical "perfection."

But those girls seem to be in the minority on Xanga's turbulent pages. The majority of them are just veering, hellbent and with loud whispers of solidarity who have not, as yet, lost a significant amount of weight. They look for diet tips and chronicle their diminishing bodies in the form of blogs that are shared by like-minded individuals. They post statistics ("stats") of their BMI's (body mass index), their Current Weight (CW) Height, Highest weight (HW) Goal Weight (GW) and, more often than not, their 1st GW, 2nd GW and even up to five or six goals to meet, one after another. If one of them gives in to hunger (the enemy) and goes so far as to degrade herself to the extent that she beats herself up by daring to eat a piece of toast. It's really sad, actually. Their lives have been so damaged that sometimes, they feel all is lost for them.

The celebrities mentioned above, along with others like Kate Bosworth, Teri Hatcher and the notorious wasting woman, Victoria Beckham, will also be featured in my stories. These faces are plastered everywhere and the various tabloids are absolutely and completely fixated on stories about these womens diminishing weights. For example, one short story posted below deals with a young woman's gradual disintegration into the nightmarish world of bingeing and purging and this person will be represented by those actors, musicians and all manner of the privileged emaciated. This may seem a bit odd, but it's something that hasn't been done yet, at least I don't believe that it has. I have posted a message boards where those with eating disorders can come and meet like-minded individuals for support and friendship. I belong to a number of these forums, like the Something Fishy board and I am constantly in awe at the courage of those people I have met and I feel as if I have known them for a very long time.

---

Fighting the Battle Of Our Lives:
When Recovery Becomes An Option--But A Shaky One

---

Katharine McPhee Faces Her Bulimia Nightmare:
Purging Her Feelings Of Self-Doubt and Insecurity

---

Stories Of Grief, Of Hope and Of Extreme Courage:
The World Of Anorexia and Bulimia Through Original Creative Works

The First Two Chapters Of My Novel-In-Progress:

---

Susie Harper Disappears:
Live Journal Of A Tragic Heroine

---

The Hollywood Enquirer:
Featuring the Best and the Worst In Tinseltown

---

Gettionger pro ana, it deals specifically about our ambivalence when it comes to confronting our eating disorders. I find myself succumbing to the self-hatred of what I perceive as my body's stark imperfections in times of extreme stress. I lost a good friend recently and I am watching my old fears and views somewhat shaky at the moment.

---

Dying To Be Lindsay:
Her Life On the Borderline Of Despair

---

A Life-Changing Summer On the Beach:
Daphne Stone's Relentless Pursuit Of Ana

Lately I have been coping with one disaster after another, keeping me held captive in my own depression. Sometimes it gets so overwhelming that I cannot get myself off the couch or out of bed for that matter. But it is with sadness that this update concerns the untimely death of Polly Williams, one of the four women at the Renfrew Center for eating disorders and the focus of the HBO documentary THIN. Please take a few moments to try wrapping your head around just how badly she was feeling that suicide was the only option she had left:

---

Polly Williams From the HBO Documentary, THIN Dies:
Anorexia, Again Takes Another Young Life With So Much Potential

---

I'm Only Happy When I Starve:
Sara Jane's Introduction To the World Of Anorexia

As you can see, I have unsubscribed to all the pro-ana webrings and will be seeking out pro-recovery ones to put up here instead. I am sorry to have seemingly snubbed the "anorexia as a lifestyle" people who came here. It's not snubbing as much as it's redirecting you and showing that seeking treatment, such as an Inpatient care to literally save your lives. To those who are not ready to be helped with their disorder, I wish you well and that you will have a change of heart.

Powered by WebRing. Powered by WebRing®.

Crescent Moon Writer's Community

Powered By Ringsurf

Take a careful look at the three girls pictured below. They looked happy, albeit slightly chubby in the first photograph. They wore genuine smiles and appeared confident about themselves and their bodies. Still, as societal pressures forced them into slimming down, they all decided to lose weight. As you can see by the second picture, they are substantially thinner, but look miserable. Thinness doesn't automatically make you happy. If you have accomplished little because of obsessing about body size, you will discover, upon shedding the pounds, that there really is more to life than wasting away.

FreeWebSubmission.com

This site is a member of WebRing. To browse visit Here.

Search Engine Optimization and SEO Tools Last Updated:
February 8th, 2012.