Profile
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| User: | esmeralda1234 (14409188) |
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| Name: | Taking the long way to Goblin City | |
| Website: | My Wikipedia aritcle on Anorexia Mirabilis | |
| Location: | Portland, Oregon, United States | |
| Birthdate: | 1980-10-24 | |
| Bio: | Esmeralda's private diary The straight way's short But the long way's pretty... _____________________________________________ For me- deprivation isn't about self-abuse or self destruction. Yes, I hate my body fiercely, yes, I have long babbling conversations with myself, yes, I restrict, yes, I fast, and yes, I'm obsessed. But this isn't about family issues, or emotional problems. My family was wonderful- emotionally available parents, undemanding education. I wasn't a cheerleader, and I wasn't popular. I'm not an overachiever and I don't seek PERFECTION... because I know it doesn't exist. I want to not be disgusted with my body, and this is what helps. They suggest that it's implicit that you will always see FAT and you will never see improvement- and that's a lie. I see progress, I congratulate myself- and then admonish myself to work even harder. So I do. This is the ONLY WAY for me. My body refuses to conform to normal parameters. I eat 800 calories on one day, and gain 4lbs overnight. They don't come out or off when I go to the toilet- they stay right there.So I fast for 2 days, and there it goes, gone. If I don't want to be a corpulent MONSTER, I have no choice. And I've given so much time to apathy and hedonism in my lifetime, it seems only right to devote myself to some measure of asceticism now. Self control is a virtue we, as Americans, are almost totally incapable of comprehending. That precious forgotten concept is nurtured inside the ascetic. Inside those with the ability to self-deny. To prohibit. It's mind over body-and we are some of the only ones who self-inflict such pain and strictness of edicts for a reward that we will not get. That we KNOW that we will not get. And yet, we do this thing anyway. Why? Because it's a forgotten skill- to be slender. Because Americans are beastly and morbidly obese. Because the whole COUNTRY is dripping with fat. Because everybody says "Oh INDULGE... just this once" (today, and tomorrow, and the following day) Because no one even KNOWS what TREAT means any longer. BECAUSE a place like McDonalds even exists. As a social protest. As a boycott of ALL food. To prove something. To prove all SORTS of things. To train yourself. To CHANGE yourself. To rebel. To conform. To hate and love and desire and deny; all in one. The term "Food Coma" is used sometimes, to describe the sleepy state one experiences after eating massive quantities of carbohydrates and fat. If you watch people walking out of Taco Bell or Arby's, you'll see that glazed over look in their eyes. Their brains slow and squeak to a halt while all that blood rushes to an engorged stomach, filled with unnecessary calories. It makes them slow, and weak. Deaf and mute. Blind and stupid. They wobble on overstressed ankles to their SUVs with extra-wide-seats and drive home to watch Maury "Not-The-Father" Povich. They fall asleep in front of the television with a Big Gulp cradled like a baby in their arms, massive appetites sated. Until dinner. KFC in big greasy buckets passed back and forth between pudgy hands; sharing family time squeezed in all around the big screen tv to watch 24 in their sweatpants and beer-logo t-shirts. Panting to get up, they shuffle to the phone to order pizzas all around and gallons upon gallons of sugary soda pop for all, huge sweat stains becoming visible as they reach for the phone in its cradle. The thought of becoming this person is terrifying to me. The idea that- if you let your guard down ::THIS COULD BE YOU:: Is so frightening that I can't even focus on the thought. It flutters around in my head like a moth by a porch light. There is beauty, intensity, grace, focus, valiant hardship, and martyrdom in the realm of the voluntary deprivation. There are precious, rare jewels- like the rush of waking up in the morning and realizing that you DID it- you ate nothing yesterday, long walks through the park now abandoned by everyone but you in favor of televisions and malls, and persistently death-cold hands that remind you how delicate your flesh really is. Vision is sharper, metaphorically and literally. Things are so very much MORE. The sky seems larger and more vast, cats softer- their purrs more comforting. Cold is colder, bright is brighter, sound is louder. It's gotten so intense that I've taken to wearing earplugs every morning on the bus to block out all the noise. I love that. I love that the world is too loud, that buildings feel like they'll topple on me, that my head is light every time I stand up. No one forces you. I don't believe that's even possible. Maybe I'm just not "sick" enough. Maybe My brain just isn't wired that way. To be honest though, I can't IMAGINE not making the choice. That's what makes us sentient beings, after all. The ability to reason and make choices based on those factors that we observe. My body doesn't make conscious action without my say so. I say when I eat, and when I don't. I think it's a cop-out to say you're "not in control". We've been blaming our troubles on everyone but us since the dawn of man: "The devil made me do it" "My friends made me do it" "My mom made me do it" "It was fate that I did it" "God willed it" "It was out of my hands" Bullshit. I did it. And I do it. Free will, choice.... It's your battle, and your decision, no one else's. I know this. And I choose. | |
| Interests: | 1: none for you | |
| Friends: | ||
| Friend of: | 19: 400aday, ana_forever_xo, anikka_ariella, constant_diet, corazonyalma, destitutely_me, esmeralda1234, fatalfai, hate_mistakes, jai_tres_faim, katieq_1388, love_2_b_slim, luthien51289, mklblb, porridge_oats, reaching4dreams, sayyouwillstay, sh91, slytherinwhore | |
| Member of: | 4: ed18, extreme_diets, pa_waiting_room, the_thin_i_want | |
| Account type: | Basic Account | |
