Anorexia music

It's like an anorexia series.

Here's some of the music I was speaking about in "Welcome back, anorexia! Pt. 1".

Welcome back, anorexia! Pt. 2

So, why is she anorexic? I hear you ask. Because I was bullied, because I was insecure, because I wanna be pretty. I have narcissistic tendencies. I never realised it until recently, but my god, do I have great narcissistic tendencies! I want to be pretty. I want to stand out. I love the fact that pervs have a good look at me from top to bottom. I get off on it. I hate that guys I like don't look at me in the same way so I want to better myself for them. I want to be pretty for them. I want to fucking be loved. This is the only way I know to get attention and it's the only way I know how to get people to like me and accept me so I'm fucking sorry if I'm harming myself, I just want to be liked.

Welcome back, anorexia! Pt. 1

Have I ever spoken about my weight issues here? I can't remember doing so.

Without going into too much detail, I was a chubby child. I wasn't fat, I was simply chubby. I often got bullied by cousins, aunts, "friends" and strangers. When I was 10 years old a "friend" gave me a note saying these exact words: "you can't be my friend anymore because you're fat" and that was that. I screamed and cried and my dad got some powerful people involved. Nothing came of it, although my sister did go to school and threaten the bully. That was awesome.

FAQ 5: Do your family know about your mental health issues?

It's always difficult speaking to my family about my mental health. I suffer depression, which they know about, and borderline personality disorder which they don't know about. I also suffer anorexia (EDNOS in the DSM's pov, but I think the DSM is ridiculous) which, when they were aware of it, they would shout at me for having it, like it was my choice. They don't know I still suffer from it - they actually think I binge eat.

Telling them about the depression was easy - I simply Whatsapped my group with my siblings as soon as I was officially diagnosed and they just ignored it. They probably didn't believe me, or just figured I was being an overly sensitive drama queen. I've been suspecting it since I was 13 years old but I got the official diagnosis when I was 18. Telling them about the BPD is something that I can't imagine ever speaking about because they react to my mental health issues really inappropriately - they either shout at me or refuse to accept that there's anything wrong me. It's always "you're not mentally ill, you're just sensitive!" But they knows nothing of the real story. They have no idea what kind of life I lead when they're not around. They know the kind of mood swings I have aren't typical for girls my age (I'm 19), but they just blame it on hormones and my hypersensitivity to the world.

About the anorexia, well, the two times my sisters confronted me were probably the worst experiences I have ever had with them because they just shouted and shouted, and refused to accept that I wasn't in control of it. Over the last year I've managed to convince them that I binge eat so they've backed off.

I really want to be able to speak to them about it all. My eldest sister especially used to help me with my issues as a kid, but since I was 14/15 she just backed off and left me to deal with it all. It all eventually worsened. I can't speak to any of them because they just become completely irrational when it comes to mental health.

Some accurate shit

And don't I know it.

I haven't been posting as much as I should be.

I'm still alive. Completely forgot about the blog these last couple of weeks.. A lot has been going on with my general health so not fun at all. I've got a couple of FAQs that need answering so those are the priority at the moment. I'm hoping to write and post them by the end of next week, but it really depends on if I get better by then.

Have I ever told you how I'm a good liar? Part 1.

12 months ago I had just started going through a gradual and gruelling break up. 10 months ago I started working as a call girl. I was 18 years old and still in school. The best was that I was living under my Muslim family's roof. On one particular day I was with a client about 17 miles away from home in a part of London I had never been to before then. My sister called me at 6pm to ask where I was and I told her I was "less than half a mile away dropping my Muslim friends off at their homes because their parents want to make sure that they're not lying when they say they're with their friends -- their parents don't trust them." I got home an hour later and she didn't suspect a thing.

This is the summary of one of my very favourite memories. The longer story shall come on a day I remember to write it! Until then, ciao for now.