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I’m trying to edit an article so that I can get it approved for publication, but I can’t focus. I can’t focus because I’ve been under 500 calories a day for the past week or so and today, I am scared to eat. I tried to eat a baby carrot and I started to cry. I actually can’t do it. Usually at night, I’ve been eating while watching TV so that I don’t really realize what I’m doing. I’m pretty sure that is the only way I’m going to be able to eat until my husband gets back from the trip he’s on right now. I need him to ground me and keep me focused, and without him here, I am just so overwhelmed by self hate. I had 2 failed IVF attempts back to back. The process began in November and stretched through January. During that time, I gained 30lbs. 30. None of my clothes fit and we spent almost all our money on this horribly failed process. While my husband is gone, I’ve been spending 2 hours a day exercising, and then forcing myself to choke down enough food to let me get through the day and sleep through the night. And even so, I’ve only lost 5lb in the last 2 weeks.I feel like I fail at everything. Every article I’ve ever submitted comes back with a thousand requested corrections, I can’t have a baby, and I can’t even be a hot thin wife if I have to be a childless one.

I’m going to sit in front of the TV and eat 10 baby carrots with a diet dr pepper and then maybe I’ll be able to focus. I hate this life so much. I hate being afraid of food. I’m just so very, very tired.


ED “logic”

TFW the idea of eating one slice of bread at 110 calories sends you into a full on panic, but the idea of eating almost 200 calories in Easter candy seems totally logical. 


Don’t purge. 

You took your anxiety medicine. Give it some time; it’s going to kick in. 

Don’t think about how satisfying it feels to tear your throat up and punish yourself. 

Don’t think about how disgusted you are by the feeling of a full stomach. 

You know most of this is just liquid. Eating carrots is not a sin. You have to eat something every day if you’re going to keep trying to delay death. 

You’re not fat because you fucked up; you’re fat because your thyroid died and you had two back to back failed attempts at IVF. 

Sit with the full feeling. Breathe through the panic. 

Eating is not a sin. 

Don’t think about how much better you’ll feel if you atone for something that isn’t wrong in the first place. 

Don’t think about how quick, easy, and satisfying it would be. 

Don’t make an effort to hurt yourself, no matter how good it feels in the short run. 

Don’t purge. 



Today was the day I was supposed to start IVF treatment, but we had to put it on hold because of some worrying lab results. So instead, I spent an extra hour at the gym, had lemon water for lunch and ate a pan of fudge left over from an office party and spoonfuls of marshmallow fluff as soon as I got home. Now I’m going to vomit until I bleed and then take however much Xanax it takes to get me out of this day.  I am so sad and my life feels so pointless and empty. Every part of me is failing and I am ready to be done. 

Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not real.

When I’m on tour I often stop in the airport bookstores during layovers to do rogue signings.  I do them when I can and sometimes strangers stop to ask about the book.  Sometimes they buy a copy or two.  Mostly they don’t.  But last week one older woman in particular looked at Furiously Happy and told me that she […]

It Gets Better

I left this comment earlier today on a post that felt like it could have been ripped from my own diary back in 10th grade. It made me realize that I almost never post about the good things here, and there really is so much good in my life, even with my physical and mental health problems. My husband and I have been trying to get pregnant for a little over the past year, and as such I have been working so hard to eat and digest enough to make my body strong enough to support a fetus through a successful gestation. I’ve been working hard to avoid having access to triggers, both in terms of emotional stimulation and foods that are likely to start the binge-purge cycle all over again. I really do mean to post some of the recipes I’ve come up with for less-bad alternatives to entire boxes of cookies. I think some of you might find them really useful. 

No matter what happens, please remember that you are valued, you are precious, you are loved. Even when it doesn’t feel like you matter, you do. You are exactly where you are supposed to be right now, and fuck anyone who makes you feel like that isn’t good enough. I know it doesn’t feel like it most of the time, but you are enough. 


Inspiration, Part 2

A few months ago, one of my favorite people in the world opened up to me about her depression, anxiety and eating disorder. She is working so hard at recovery, and every day I’m more proud of her. She’s one of the only people I love so much it makes my chest hurt. She’s smart, and passionate and so unbelievably kind. It breaks my heart in a thousand ways to know what she deals with, but I also know that if there’s anyone in the world who is strong enough to face this shit head on and wrestle it into submission, it’s her. She’s the kind of person who makes me want to be a better person. 

I don’t know when she’ll find the time to read this, but when she does, I want her to know that she’s the reason I ate dinner tonight. She’s the reason I didn’t throw up, and the reason I let myself opt out of teaching next semester so I can try to finally get my dependence on narcotics under control. Her honesty and her strength are the reason I am trying to learn how to practice self care. Her friendship is one of the reasons I have hope. 

Binging on Safe Food

Baby carrots, rice cakes and celery…I’ve somehow managed to binge all my safe foods in the last few days and it is taking everything I have to not purge.  What kind of weirdo cries in the shower because she ocer ate celery?  A bulimic-subtype anorexic, that’s who. My husband keeps trying to get me to just eat intuitively, but I don’t know how. My intuition tells me to either eat 4 bites of nothing or to eat whatever is in front of me until I’m so full I can justify a purge. I need to go back to portioning out my food before I start eating so that I can get my body an appropriate number of calories without getting to a panic point. But until I can make the time to do that, I’ll just whine to the internet until the most recent urge to purge fades. 

Study: Diet Culture is Screwing Up Five Year Old Girls

This blog has a LOT of pictures of overweight and obese people, so please don’t click over if you find large bodies triggering.

Dances With Fat

grade on curveIf you were looking for proof that our culture is unbelievably messed up around dieting, you need look no farther than the fact that a study has come out called “Dietary restraint of 5-year-old girls: Associations with internalization of the thin ideal and maternal, media, and peer influences.”

Yes, we have reached a point where we are studying dieting and thin obsession in kindergarten girls.  So what did the study find?


Thirty-four percent of girls reported at least a moderate level of dietary restraint. While most girls were satisfied with their body size, half showed some internalization of the thin ideal. Girls’ dietary restraint was correlated with weight bias favoring thinner bodies, and greater internalization of the thin ideal, media exposure, and appearance conversations with peers. Media exposure and appearance conversations were the strongest predictors of dietary restraint.

That is straight up horrifying, but sadly not even…

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It’s Not About You

“That sounds like something a person with an eating disorder would say,” said my husband. He had that look of false calm on his face that means he’s desperately trying to hide how upset he actually was. “You are so beautiful and I love you so much. I’d rather you weighed 300 pounds than starve yourself for a day or throw up even once.”

I laugh and hug him, reassuring him that just because I still have disordered thoughts, that doesn’t mean I’m still engaging in disordered behaviors. Yes, I tell him. Yes, I know you think I’m beautiful. Yes, I know you want me to eat and digest and to be as healthy and strong as I can be. 

But what I don’t say is that he’s not even bothering to think about what I want. I don’t say that it’s phenomenally self absorbed and disgustingly arrogant to think that I starve and vomit and claw at my lumps and wobbles because of him or anyone else. I don’t explain for the thousandth time how much I hate myself, how much I hate the flawed, broken, useless body I’m stuck in. I don’t explain that even though I only tell him I’m in pain when it’s too bad for me to type or walk, I am still in pain all day, every day. I don’t explain to him how my useless body doesn’t deserve food when it won’t move, but that when I’m well enough to go to the gym, I’ll make sure to eat at least as many calories as I burned off. I don’t explain the satisfaction and catharsis that comes from any self harm, including a strong, thorough purge. 

Instead I smile at him and touch his arm reassuringly. I thank him for loving what I hate. I thank him for the support he tries to give.