A clever way of combining the words thin
and inspiration.
Using the underweight as

I've seen pictures of girls analyzing
themselves in the mirror. Girls with their
feet together and thighs apart
the collar bones are where we start
feel the hips, count the ribs,
that's what makes us skinny, bitch.

Girls with long hair and thin arms
saying that they skipped
to wake up thinner,
because eating, well, isn't
very Chanel.

Girls asking girls with protruding
spines how they got to be so
thin and being told that hunger
but starvation

Look a little more closely.
Look at the scars
on their knuckles from the continuous purging
Look at the scars
on their arms from the inner self hatred
Look at how they
cry every time they undress.

You'll never see good enough in the mirror
Small enough
Pretty enough
Perfect enough.

You aren't strong for starving, you're strong
for eating
You aren't strong for purging, you're strong
for …


I'm thinking more and more of pursuing a fitness career. If I do get into my masters, I'll definitely do one, but after that I might leave mathematics for a while. But maybe part of me wishes I don't get in. I could be a personal trainer. Train my ass off. Join the circus.

I want to have the qualifications to lecture university or college math courses. I love teaching, but I love teaching adults. Adults who want to learn. I don't think I could stand being a high school teacher. The other problem with being a high school teacher is that I'd be stuck in this province, and my partner and I would love to stay here, but also want the opportunity to travel and move.

If I'm going to spend 2 years in school, I'd rather spend them doing a masters in math and learning more interesting mathematics instead of in teacher's college.

In my ideal world, I think I would lecture university or college math classes, as well as train in some sort of gymnastics/dance/circus …


I didn't write a note, just a simple I love you. What else was there to say?
I fell asleep.
I woke up to sirens and paramedics strapping me to a bed me screaming, crying no "I'll be okay".
I fell asleep.
I woke up to the sharp prick of blood being drawn by a nurse who clearly hated her job.
I fell asleep.
I woke up in a cream coloured room in a building with long bright halls and a doctor telling me that I was safe.
The first thing they ask you when you go to the psychiatric emergency room is "do you feel safe?".
I do not feel safe.
In this building with rooms with nothing sharp and no rapists disguised as my football playing ex boyfriend, I know I am safe.
But my hands still search for a blade at midnight
And my heart still starts to race when my nurse touches me on the arm.
I wonder how long it will be until I can be trusted with a pencil sharpener.
I wonder how long it will be until I can be touched without dissociating.
I wonder how long it will be until …

Opinion/rant: gyms and eating disorders

This is a response to the article linked belowOKAY BUT NO. (Also ED tw)1. Gyms are a company, Not a mental health organization.
2. YOU CAN'T TELL IF SOMEONE HAS AN EATING DISORDER BASED ON SIZE. I personally dealt with a bulimic gym member who was not emaciated. Had she not told me that she was struggling I would not have known. Are we only supposed to stop the emaciated people? Are they the only ones who deserve help? Should I not sell a gym membership to a girl with bulimia when she was trying to develop healthier practices, just because she has an eating disorder? Maybe an emaciated person is using the gym under a drs direction, recovering from a non eating disorder related illness, building muscle. Maybe this person feels very self conscious coming to the gym because they're underweight. Should we ask them if they have an eating disorder? No!
3. Gyms promote healthy active living. At no gym that I've been too have I seen signs encouraging over exercising or under eati…

After the purge

It takes all the energy I have to get myself off the cold tiled ground and face the bathroom mirror.
I stare at my red eyes and puffy face, sighing as I grab an antacid from the drawer.
I chew it slowly, making sure to get it all over my teeth while splashing my face with shockingly cold water before rinsing out my mouth.
I brush my teeth. I wipe off my makeup. I walk into the living room with shame.
He knows what I just did. He must know, he's lived with me long enough.
He gets up from his chair and greets me with a silent hug.
He whispers your wonderful while stroking my hair.
Thank you I say on the verge of tears.
He loves me despite this disgusting habit of mine.
He loves me not because I stay small, But despite my obsession to stay small.
I must remember that.
When he says I'm wonderful, it's a reminder that I don't have to do this.
When he says I'm wonderful, he's not thanking me for doing what I must to stay small.
I sit down and he brings me an ice col…

Self care

Self care is important. Sometimes, self care involves forcing yourself out of bed for that cup of coffee and medication so you can at least get through the day if not function. I’ve been functional lately but this past week my self care has been the necessities. Brushing my teeth has been a big one. I don’t know what it is, but I just find it takes so much energy to do. My teeth are so sensitive from the lack of enamel that it hurts as well. Showering also took a lot of effort this week, as did getting changed. The other hard one was convincing myself that I deserved to take my modafinil.
It’s reading week now though and I was able to take a break. I didn’t study Saturday or Sunday and it was fabulous. I went hiking, slept in, worked out and went shopping and picked up some more luxurious self care products.
I got a soap, bubble bar, skin conditioner and face bar from lush which I’m hoping will encourage me to take a few longer showers.  I really feel good after I shower but I just fi…


I had a vivid thought/dissociative episode/dream where a bulimic friend of mine died from a stomach burst while bingeing last week.

Today I had it again and I managed to convince myself that it was real and throw myself into crisis. I missed a lot of class over the past week and told myself it was because this friend of mine died. I even told my professor that my friend died. The thing is, I don't think a friend of mine died. Now, I now that an internet friend of a friend died, so maybe that's what triggered it? But I'm genuinely concerned and going through my twitter friends, making sure that everyone has been tweeting and hence still alive. I'm terrified that I'm forgetting someone and that someone has passed away unnoticed.

I've been having these episodes. They're semi-dissociative episodes where I'm convinced this happened. I can't seem to come out of them long enough to know that it didn't. I think DBT skills are useless. But even if they h…