Flirting with Ana…

So I’ve started having ANA habit urges. It started about a month ago because I had gotten to the heaviest I’ve ever been (120 lb) and I was horrified because I remembered well the days of being 102, 105 lb. Yes, I was a child but those numbers still stuck in my mind because I hadn’t really grown since those weights and I was used to always being the smallest girl in any room. I wanted to at least get back down to where I was at college last semester where I felt totally healthy and normal (110 lb).

The other piece, at it always is with self destructive behaviors, I’ve been battling with some mental stuff. I was out of college for the second time, hadn’t completed a full year of school in 3 years, was watching my brother get into every college he applied to, and still dealing with the fairly recent trauma of my rape.

I was definitely looking for some form of control in my life.

My parents had decided for me that I didn’t get to go back to my college. I didn’t have my own room. I didn’t have friends. I felt purposeless and directionless.

I bounced back and forth from thinking okay at least my weight/appearance is one thing I have control and could succeed at, to I’m such a massive failure, I don’t deserve to indulge in anything.

Also when my self esteem goes low and my depression starts spiraling I start looking for more new self destructive behaviors to try. It’s how I tried smoking weed for the first time, having tons of meaningless casual sex, wanting to get drunk most weekends, and cutting for the first time.

Plus I was also spending a lot of time on Tumblr. Oh, Tumblr…

It’s just a sea of thinspo, meanspo and self hating triggers.

I also was watching my mom skip most meals and seeing her legs get thinner than mine. I was horrified and worried and pestering her about it constantly but it also made me a bit jealous, and competitive.

I’m the daughter, I should be skinnier.

I also think as I’m writing all this that a part of me believes if I can get back to my old weight, I’ll get back to my old self. Succeeding in school, sleeping regularly (I’m writing this at 4:45 AM) and not riddled with panic attacks and suicidal ideation.

I wouldn’t label myself an anorexic because I don’t have a calorie limit or obsess about it consistently. I know it is a very serious and dangerous disease and I don’t claim at all to know how true sufferers feel. But I am horrifyingly starting to see, how far too addicting this all can be.

Even the hunger pains and the knowing you resisted is so addicting. It’s strange.

And of course watching the numbers go down on the scale.


Updates and late night feelings

I didn’t update what happened when I went back to my college to clear out my dorm room because my parents did not permit me to return for the spring semester. I won’t get into it now because I have other thoughts on my mind. Short version is I had one last face to face talk about my assault with my perpetrator. I cried a lot and I almost made him cry for the first time in front of me. It was heart wrenching and terrifying but it felt victorious to face that and unload so much of the hurt. He needed to know the true extent of his damage.

Since then I am still battling whether or not I want to report.

My 1AM thoughts were revisiting the idea of getting some kind of justice that might be more doable than a full prosecution. My assailant belongs to a frat and I have heard many disturbing instances of assaults, aggression and general ill behavior from these guys. Especially towards girls. We even have a derogatory name for their party house. Since I used to be in an ill defined non-relationship with one of its (the party house)’s main tenants, I know very well how deeply the school already dislikes this chapter. They’ve been trying to shut down, especially their party house (the location I was assaulted) for years. I thought if I said I had an assault at their house, this would be enough fuel to the fire to get their party house taken away or even the chapter temporarily disbanded. I whole heartedly believe that their chapter promotes rape culture and general chauvinism and I think they are toxic and dangerous. My psychiatrist and parents are weary of me taking any types of steps of reporting as they feel this will only open a can of worms of negative emotions for me and will only worsen the trauma. I’m also am supremely aware of how little chance I would have at getting any results from this. I didn’t take a rape kit the day after, I have no visible bruises, colleges want to save their asses, and I’d be going against a popular straight white male (I am a black female) where it would be a he-said-she-said game. I feel and worry this.

But I also worry about other girls. I know I retreat into a savior complex often into the point of ignoring my own mental well being but what I went through was truly alarming and I can’t help but feel hard pressed to stop this from happening from even a few more people. -> I have helped a couple times at parties telling guys to go away from drunk girls who were uncomfortable but too shy to be assertive enough to get them to leave them alone. ->  This is significant, but still feels lacking reach.

I’m terrified and torn apart and apprehensive and heart broken and confused crying still into 3AM…

Assuming the worst(s)

Tomorrow is going to be a really terrifying day.

My family and I are driving 6.5 hours back up to my college to clear out my dorm room.

I’ve convinced them to let me stay overnight so I could have one last night of young adult freedom and say goodbye to all my friends.

This presents many possible complications. And I have anxiety so let’s delve into literally all of them.

I feel the need to use up all of this temporary freedom to the fullest so I already know I’m going to go overboard with partying. Will probably have a nasty hangover, deal with some vomit, and it might be fun until it’s not.

Fun fact about alcohol. It is a depressant. So when you’re depressed, you inevitably will hit a point in your night when you’re no longer yelling “shots” but lamenting in the corner of how you’ve wasted your life because you’re now shockingly aware of time.

I’m also afraid my inebriated state will lead me to do something stupid. Like get into a fight or sleep with my perpetrator.

I was sexually assaulted last semester (big reason why I’m taking a leave of absence) and it’s been a couple of months but I’m still in that very precarious time when I’m processing through all of my emotions and if given an extreme situation, an emotion will feel overwhelming enough to give in to that urge.

I don’t know what I want to do with my final confrontation with this guy. Part of me wants to yell and hit him because I have all this anger and betrayal bubbling beneath my bones but part of me wants to be so shockingly calm and explain in beautiful prose just how deeply he has damaged me from this.

The latter would seem to be more rational, but it also feels like too respectful a gesture. He didn’t bother to check in with my emotions, why should I his?

I’m also worried I might sleep with him because I have no idea how to get over this fear of intimacy now. The one entirely bonkers solution I have is to face it with the person who took advantage so I can feel empowered again with any future relation (ew, hate that term) that might occur. Also amidst all my disgust with him, exists remnant feelings for him and a need to impress him, causing therefore more disgust with myself.

And finally, when I’m drunk I convince myself that I’m invincible and I can be cool enough to please others and worry for myself the consequences later. ah, don’t we all…

A simple solution to all of this of course would be to stay sober but I’ve been living at home for 6 weeks with nothing but arguing with my parents and I’m giving up a scholarship, friends, multiple leadership positions and a prominent social circle-I think I deserve a little taste of youth.

Also even when I am sober (like now) I entirely spiral and fall and shake from my emotions. My panic attacks even make me vomit.

So might as well get a good snap story out of it.

Why Bare All?


We hide under a lot of shit.

Clothes, make up, friends, smiles, social profiles…It’s exhausting and it’s dishonest. It just makes you unhappy. Of course it does. You can never measure up to a curated image.

I am currently on my second leave from college and fourth leave from school. I’m reinventing my expectations for myself and in order to do that I need to let myself explore what I’ve been too afraid to do.

So this blog is going to try to be honest. You’ll see my exploration through dance, choreography, music, poetry, visual art.

And how managing a balance of mental health and a full course of life is really, freaking, challenging.