crash&burn.

I was just diagnosed with anorexia nervosa. What do I feel? Do I feel accomplished? Do I feel as if I have proved myself at last? I feel drained. I feel quesy. I feel ill and much smaller, emotionally, than I have ever been. I set out to erase myself and I did it. I feel regret. I feel betrayed. I feel foolish. I fell for fairytale that turned into a nightmare.

Years ago I thought being sick meant I'd be thin and pretty and in control. I liked the safeness of it and the numbers. I thought I'd be fucking magical, living on air and water like some fairy thing. I'd be superhuman. But the romanticism of fading away lost it's charm sometime in this last year. It became gritty and sickening and hurting so bad. There's no beauty in starving to death. There's no beauty in people pointing out that you're DYING, yelling it in doctor's offices and at home and in stores. arianna, you're dying!
There's nothing here for me anymore and I still want it though. 
Low weight, 90. High weight, 183. I've found no solace in losing 93 pounds. I'm endlessly surprised by this. I found nothing in numbers and nothing in rituals and nothing in blood. But I need it still.

"We never did anything because all the pictures you see are of these skin and bone girls and..."
"So you never did anything because I wasn't skinny enough?" I feel myself choking. Enough now, I am not good enough.
"Arianna, you are. You're too skinny."
I'm stunned into silence because my dad has never said that to me before. I've always assumed he thought I was large, pushing for me to go on runs with him and buying diet foods for me. I guess I'm shocked.

I haven't cut in 14 days. Eating 'properly' for five. I feel deprived rather than proud.

I'm on a 4500 calorie meal plan and it fucking sucks. I see a doctor in Stanford once a week, a lady in another town once every other week, and my therapist once a week. Regular doctor's checkup once a month. Nutritionist calls every day.  I get medications sometime new week so that means another appointment. I'm hardly excited about taking pills again. I've gained fifteen pounds so quickly. I hate this.