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(no subject) [Nov. 2nd, 2010|04:26 pm]
[mood |calmcalm]

I wanted to re-post here the comment I left on this blog, which was one of many responses to a Marie Claire (which might be a magazine or something?) fat-hating blogger, who thinks that fat people ought get out & exercise & get thin, while at the same time shielding her tender eyes from their wobbling rolls o' fat.

You wanna know how to make 5 lbs of fat attractive?
Add a nipple.

"If you could shame people skinny, we would all fit into sample sizes. All the shaming has done is make people feel alienated and degraded, even the skinny ones. Promoting a single idea of what is aesthetically pleasing has damaged people at every point on the weight spectrum."

This is a fantastic statement, & I agree wholeheartedly with your eloquent observation.

I'm in the same boat as Rose. 5 years of anorexia, as well as 3 years of recovery, has led me to realize exactly how little my actual weight & appearance impacts my happiness, or even my sense of self. When people degrade & deride "fatties", it hurts, because I KNOW the speakers are talking about me when they have no idea. I feel like a secret chubby spy, finding out firsthand what people really think & doing my best to inform, infect & inspire them to be, well, not utter assholes.

What continues to enrage & sadden me the most is how lucky I've come to feel to have been anorexic, as opposed to having the far less recognized (& respected) Binge Eating Disorder. People with BED still have EDs, but because they're not scrawny, covered in white fur, & going bald, they get none of the concern & compassion that anorexics & bulimics get from complete strangers.

Now, at 22, 6 years after a spinal cord injury & 3 years after the damaged nerves began malfunctioning, sending garbled signals my brain can only read as relentless agony, I know what it's like to use food for comfort. When I'm out of opiate analgesics, I reach for sugar, & it's changing my body in ways I'm literally helpless (paralysis, yo) to stop. How can I exercise with wasted muscles & constant pain?

I’m still not overweight. But it’s been impossible, for a long time, for me to blindly judge a fat stranger for daring to leave the house. It’s the shamers who ought to be shamed, & ashamed, & possibly forced to eat their way out of a cake prison.

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(no subject) [Mar. 24th, 2009|11:17 am]
I has got a Twitter account @ http://twitter.com/kidvelociraptor. That's... that's all, I guess.
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(no subject) [Feb. 27th, 2009|03:37 pm]
Saturday night I stepped on a blender blade, tracked blood all over the living room, and then finally sat down to check my heel because I felt like there was something stuck to it, like popcorn. It was then that I saw the gaping wound, the blood everywhere, and went huh. It didn't hurt at all and in fact I could barely feel it, which is new, since that broken glass I got stuck in my other foot 4 months ago hurt like hell, and so wasn't particularly concerned, but Tom took one look at my foot and hauled me upstairs, tore up a shirt for a bandage and insisted that we go to the ER. His obvious alarm convinced me, as I was merely planning on hunting down some superglue to stick the muscle back together. I ended up getting a tetanus shot and 2 stitches, without a numbing agent (I'm allergic). I felt that. Even with the stitches, it bled for 36 hours, not slowing till Monday morning, and by Tuesday morning it was infected (I probably shouldn't have been walking around in the basement without a bandage. Or socks.) so I got crutches, which are a great ab workout but extremely inconvenient when inside one's house. I get to cut the stitches out on Monday, if the gash is healed (it hasn't been making spectacular progress, which might have something to do with the fact that I have been sticking it with a pin. I can get the pin 1cm into my foot before I feel pain. Cool, right?)

The moral of the story is that I am completely at fault for most of my health problems. I have negative money in the bank, so I'm living on otter pops till the check comes. Weee.

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(no subject) [Jan. 4th, 2009|11:31 pm]
Here goes nothing.
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(no subject) [Sep. 18th, 2008|12:47 am]

soothsayer is ripping my fucking heart out, but it just keeps growing back.
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(no subject) [Aug. 17th, 2008|03:36 am]
The weight limit for a pet taken on a plane as a carryon item is 15 lbs, including carrier. Fiona weighs 12 lbs. Obviously I would never leave her behind, so she's going on a diet, which means that she is being as adorable as possible in the hopes that I will feed her at 4:00am. When I started crying and rolled over to get out of bed to find my pills, she chirped and put her paw on my side and gently tried to pull me back into bed (we were spooning due to lack of space, after Sven rolled over and squished us). Now she's eating a goldfish cracker that I dropped to show me how desperately hungry she is. i mean, she ate all of it. She keeps giving my little kitty kisses on my lips and cheeks, and I can smell the goldfish on her breath. She's up in my lap, facing forward, looking at the screen and trying to type, but she thankfully continues to be distracted by the chirping of a cricket outside. I'm pretty sure it's the same cricket she managed to catch inside last night. It was beautiful, glossy black and big as my thumb, with long antenae and a 3-pronged rear, not one of those freaky stinger/spines. Fiona has tiny, delicate paws, so the cricket escaped easily... until i trapped it in a tupperware and put it outside. but not before it shat in the tupperware. now it won't shut up and I wish I'd let her eat it. It doesn't have a normal cricket call, it's a fucking tweaking opera cricket.
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(no subject) [Aug. 15th, 2008|12:13 am]
"I chose this life.
I know what I'm doing.
And on any given day, I could stop doing it.
Today, however, isn't that day.
And tomorrow won't be either."
-Bruce Wayne
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(no subject) [Mar. 3rd, 2008|11:16 am]

I got a kitty! She’s a tortoiseshell named Fiona, and she has about 2 inches of stub for a tail and a black face and green eyes and tiny feet. Steven paid her adoption fee, and I paid for all her gear, so we ended up about even. She is very sweet, she wants to know what I’m doing at all times and is a very affectionate lap cat, but she’ll also hang out by herself for a while. Last night she slept next to me in a little ball and purred and washed my face.

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(no subject) [Mar. 1st, 2008|06:06 pm]
since i didn't go exploring with blake today, i spent 4 hours cleaning my apartment, then went to the grocery store, washed the dishes, baked some blueberry muffins, and i'm about to fold 3 loads of laundry, then vacuum the whole place. who am i and what have i done with ana?? if only i could be this industrious all the time. alas, i do not have that many drugs. i still have at least 3 hours until steven comes over, and i'm definitely planning to take a nap. i figure that after tomorrow everything will be covered in cat hair, so i might as well get things as clean as possible while i still can.
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(no subject) [Feb. 25th, 2008|12:05 am]
tonight has been intense, both in good and bad ways. i'm going to leave it at that.
steven promised that he'll watch my cat this summer while i'm in MA, which means... i can get a cat! so many people have told me to get a cat that i no longer really have a choice in the matter; everyone says it'll be really good for me, and i agree. cats are a reason to live. early on a sunday steven is going to take me to the DMV to get my (third) permit, and then we're going to practice driving in his neighborhood, and then we're going to go to petsmart and adopt a kitty!
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