Juliana's Blurty

Subject:	This cycle never ends.
Time:	3:36 am.
Mood:	mellow.
Music:	My Immortal- Evanescence.

Well it's 1:17 in the morning and I can't sleep. Due to something I must explain to those that feel as if they do not have an understanding as to why I am the way I am. This is going to be blunt plain and simple.

Hi, my name is Juliana and I'm a recovering anorexic.

What makes me an anorexic? One might ask.
Well it's my ability to cope with loss of control due to intrusive and upsetting situations in a disordered and irrational manor.

Why are you anorexic?
Well lets see, this takes me way back. Freshman year I was truly an obese girl, weighing 210 at 5'3". My disorder started out as a strict but innocent diet(as most eating disorders do) I wanted to lose the weight badly, so I limited myself to 1000 calories a day(which is more than half of what you should eat in a day) and exercised for about 3 hours daily. I lost 40 lbs by the time I returned to school sophomore year, I was thrilled. However, this was about the time I also began to have issues with my mother, discovering not everything she said was what I believed in(thank god for that). When my mother noticed that I would no longer except her views on life and what she insisted I do with mine, she restricted what I did severely. She began to monitor who I talked with, and what was going on with my personal life by reading my journals. When she found out 'disturbing things'(things I had experimented with which is natural for a teenager) she would become even more intrusive and angered, which lead to more restrictions and attempted sheltering. I realized no matter how much I yelled and fought back I could not win against her in fact she would yell back twice as loud. So I rebelled against her by controlling the one thing she could not take away or enforce upon me. Food intake. This was my way of getting back at my mother showing her I was in control. She did not notice one bit at first, she seemed to think that my resistance to yelling at her and submission to rebellion was due to my realization of her authority over me. Oh, was she wrong. Inside I felt I was winning the battle. When ever she would yell at me for something she would hear or discover about me, I would say mother you have no idea turn my back, counting the calories or lack there of and run or do stairs until I figured I nullified them with exercise. Her dissatisfaction in me only gave feed into it more and more. I began to restrict even more, 1000 calories became 750, to 500, and then finally, 200 a day. I don't think I could explain to you what it felt like knowingI could starve myself and get away with it, knowing you couldn't understand due to lack of that experience. I felt as if I were free, like I could do anything, I felt so optimistic, I felt so concentrated with out food, I felt cleansed of all impurities, even euphoric, I felt I had or could have everything I ever wanted just by lacking the 1 thing I needed the most to live. yes it is quite ironic isn't it. I became obsessed with food and calories. I memorized the calories of every bit of food I ate or could read about, down to the very last once. I remember that information to this day. Due to living in this world of euphoric disorder, I didn't even notice I was destroying my body. It was now eating itself to stay alive. Others began to notice however. They noticed the sunken bags and discoloration of my skin My baggy clothes could no longer hide the frailness of my body. I was confronted by 2 individuals at first both who were teachers and told me they once suffered from eating disorders and wanted to voice that they were very concerned about me. I just smiled and said I knew what I was doing I was in control and that I could easily maintain my weight. that statement was a pure denial, which ironically, is the first step in admitting to something being very wrong. My teachers of course did not by that. Finally I was brought to the attention of the school nurse. She called me down to her office one day that November and laid the food pyramid out in front of me. I remember studying it as if it were an alien artifact something that I could not comprehend, for there was too much on it. She then asked me if I was eating the recommended servings it said I should consume in a day. Lying to protect my disordered state I answered yes. Then she asked me the question which I could not come up with an answer for-"okay then tell me what you are eating from each of these groups I don't even care if its a product that's not on here." This broke me, I couldn't come up with an answer I was so overwhelmed I broke down crying. It was then that I realized something was seriously wrong with me. The nurse called my mother science I could barely talk, and told her what I finally realized. My mother was in worse denial than I was. She refused to even think I was anorexic, in fact when I went home that day she tried to convince me that I was not anorexic. And once again I had to rebel against her. This time I proved her wrong with my disorder and "won". She brought me to see my pediatrician and I was admitted to the hospital that same day weighing 105 lbs. At the hospital I had 2 EKG's, my heart monitored, and blood drawn to check my electrolytes. The doctors concluded I would have to stay admitted for at least 2 weeks, for re feeding. During the first day I learned many things about my pathetic excuse for a body. My body starving to death now, was starting to eat primary muscle tissues to sustain itself. By primary, I mean organs such as my heart were decaying at will. When the doctor told me that if I wasn't admitted that day I could have had a stroke that night and died not knowing anything. This was when my mom and dad broke down in tears. I just watched them and watched the doctor looking at me waiting for my response. Finally after over coming the mental numbness I felt at that moment I replied "I'm self destructive and didn't even know it ". It took him a while to respond to that one but I really didn't know what else to say to him, it was like the fact that I could have died didn't even phase me. I wanted to be perfect in the media's eyes that's all I wanted, and even then at 105 lbs I still looked in the mirror and saw the imperfections of obesity. And when my heart rate dropped into the low 40's at night, I would wake up to the sound of the monitor beeping and nurses over my bed making sure I was still breathing and marking it down on my chart. Then I would go back to sleep as if it were nothing. However after hearing this, when it came to my re feeding options my disordered self(which I would later jokingly name Kate Moss) was a lot more open to the 2 choices; 1) I could learn how to eat properly and healthily by constructing a meal plan with a nutritionist and eating actual food, OR 2) have a eyngy tube shoved down my throat to get in calories in the for of nasty liquid crap. I chose #1. First I was started off on a 1000 calorie meal, which bloated the shit out of my stomach since it had shrunk to the size of a tangerine, even on demanded bed rest I lost weight on that(no surprise), so it was up'd to 1500 and then 2000 which freaked the shit out of me but I ate it anyway, because I had to and so my disordered self could realize I wouldn't gain weight if I ate normally, over 1000 cal. which it didn't. Finally, at 2100 my body was sucking in the food and maintaining it's weight, and at 2300 it gained weight back steadily. Finally I was released from the hospital weighing in healthily at 123. I also re-learned how to eat. (as stupid as it sounds, I really didn't know how to eat seeing as I went from one eating extreme to another.) But as soon as I got my mother basically hover over me watching me like a hawk trying to control everything I ate making sure I was eating everything on that meal plan if not more. No more than a month later was I re- admitted due to a relapse. Can you guess why? About six months after that relapse, shit hit the fans again, and this time escaped before things spiraled downward for me. My mom was put in mandatory therapy for awhile, and was diagnosed as a manic depressive( Bi-polar). My dad was well, diagnosed as my moms bitch but everyone already knew that (random comic relief so laugh damnit). During this time of being away from my family(thanks to the help of DSS) I grew in ways I never thought were possible. I felt free of my disorder, and developed reliance, and dependability upon myself and not others(it was hard but not impossible). For the longest time I never wanted to see my family again. They would try to contact me obsessively at first, but then they seemed to give up or realize I didn't want to associate them, so saddened they backed off. Finally in the summer of 2003, after a long emotional talk with my (medicated) mother, It seemed my parents truly made an effort to get professional help and realize their faults and wrongs in parenting.

Things were great when I first returned home. I felt things had really changed. But little by little the same dreaded faults began to surface again, and old habits established. My parents stopped going to therapy and refuse to go again, my mom is off of her medication and on my ass again. And I'm...well I'm.......I'm looking in the mirror and the reflection is not clear. I'm 118 but I can't see it. I know I need to gain weight but whenever there is conflict with my mother it still sometimes counteracts my will to gain and triggers my disordered defenses. I mean give me a break lady, it's hard enough to convince myself i'm not fat when I look in the mirror!(insert laughter here too) However I promised, this time I won't regress...and I won't let her get to me or give her the chance to impose upon me.

wow it's 3:33 am now I can't believe this took me so long...sleep...

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Subject:	:Overload:
Time:	6:26 pm.
Mood:	working.
Music:	Beastie Boys- Rymin & Stealin.

lets see, what to say what to say...

ok yesterdays training sucked big time. Sticking 9 Friendly's employees in a 8x6 room with nasty gray blue walls is just asking for blood shed. Especially when someone lets a wrank one rip, and it wasn't me ;). The new computer system is going to be a bitch to get used to. So many more added features. We are now supposed to punch in the very *suspifics* of the order which means more time and more responsibilities. Once I got home from training I brought Anthony to work up at Best Buy and decided to play DDR for an hour or so while I was up in the mall. Damn, I've become a real mall rat lately, it's horrible ha ha. The woman that owns the Israeli package store gave me a mall employee discount on my purchase even though I told her I was employed at the other end of the cape. That's when I realized it's time I take a break from my daily mall trips b4 it's too late for me as well ;-). Not like it's helping my grades any. So from now on I think I'm going to make an effort to recover from my self-induced case of senioritis and get my mother phucking sh1t together. Starting with math, which I'm not understanding once again since we started something brand new (Anthony, help! 0_o). And I just began to understand the stuff we learned last week... Oh well, so I skip math until I find someone other than Mr. I-got-a-seagull-in-the-back-of-my-skull, Lawson to teach me. Ok, so math is going to be the equivalent to that annoying cough or runny nose you're stuck with after recovering from a cold, plague, STD whatever the hell else. As long as I don't get another D in math this trimester I'm happy.

So today was pretty much routine. I got up, freezing my @$$ off. Took me awhile to realize what I was supposed to do. Went out the door and soon I was at school doing my teTCHy thing. The one thing I did learn in math today was that my good friend Heather got a job at Papa Ginos in Orleans less than a quarter mi away from where I work! Yey good going Heather, about time you became an over-worked, under-paid, part time franchise-whore again! Well anyway, I was supposed to stay after for make up in Physics but Mr. Brez. couldn't so that means more time to sit at home and do homework for me! Work called earlier and said they put me on the sced. for Friday. WTF is up with that shiz >_< argh, I already made plans to spend the day with Anthony. I think I can weasel my way out of working it should be quite easy actually...heh heh heh. Well I've said enough and I have so much to get done better stop procrastinating ^_^()

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Subject:	Happy Halloween -The Fetus Festival
Time:	11:31 pm.
Mood:	pleased.
Music:	The Datsuns-Mother Fucker from Hell.

Ah yes what a long but interesting day. Last night as I laid down to sleep I was quite disappointed that I did not have a Halloween costume. So I started to reflect on the characters I was planning on being . I thought I could pull off looking really good in a Buttercup Costume from the Power Puff Girls, and then decided that show was for babies. Then I was thinking along the lines of hmm, babies...dead babies...fetuses... abortion!!! I'll be a walking talking butchered pregnant teen who happened to be pro choice! Oh but the best part of this costume was that I wouldn't have to pay a cent because I had all the supplies I could possibly need right in my own room! So I put to together this powerful costume of an artists own rendition of an abortion. As I used the last of my first tube of red acrylic paint I remember smiling and thinking to my self yes this will be quite the scene and the best part is I can really make it gruesome by saying I'm pro choice. With that I went to sleep.

The Next Day I wake up to the chilly air of October 31, throw on the bloody white dress shirt, pull on the tights and put runns in my tights with the coat hanger (that would be used to hold the baby doll in place around my waste with the final deathly touch of the hook piercing through its forehead. After all, what screams abortion better than the primitive coat hanger days of the 50's? With that done I through on the blooded shorts which were extremely saturated in the crotch area and ran out the door. Once at school I went down to childcare and ask someone if they could donate a baby to my cause to complete my outfit. Once the doll was in my possession I beat it to a bloody pulp with my paintbrush and attached it with the coat hanger into place around my waist. Added lots of red paint running down my legs, blood on my face and a coat hanger around my neck, for a final gorish touch. And BAM instant gore brought to u by the creative disturbing intellect of yours truly.

The costume was loved by many and interpreted on many different levels on what I could stand for, pro choice was the idea I voiced to make a powerful in your face statement, but what I was really going for was to see how others interrupted it with out my knowledge. Most liked it even more that way. But no sooner after my true exploitation at lunch time, a gaggle of offended Cosmo girls were waiting for me at the entrance of my shop. I looked at them recognized a culinary girl who is known for starting bitch fights and getting in peoples faces before she gets her facts straight. Knowing that I was 1 vs. 7 girls plus a teacher I sighed and immediately put on my I'm- about-to-bullshit-how-sorry-I-am-to-your-face act. Suppressing the anxiety their presence caused me, I listened to them rant and apologized frequently hoping they'd just shut-up. Knowing that even if they got the slightest hint that I didn't give a shit about their upset emotional state caused prematurely by jumping to conclusions, I could run the risk of far more worse confrontations in the future. When I couldn't stand to keep quiet anymore I pointed out to them it was Halloween this is my costume and yes its gruesome. I believed I was not personally offending anyone. If they took it in the wrong manor then obviously there are some emotions of guilt for even thinking about an abortion if they were expecting or fright from what they could have chosen, but those are there own personal feelings and they shouldn't take them out on me. After I got this in between several meaningless apologizes, I continued to listen to them bitch and say how disgusting and appalling it was. I walked away the last thing I remember was one of the girls saying if I was truly sorry I would take the baby off. Which made no sense because I was not apologizing for wearing the costume I was apologizing that they were emotionally distraught from interpreting it in such a way. No sooner then 15 min after this incident did my hole shop knew what happened and they were enranged that "those dumb sluts" tried to make me take it off by bitching at me. After all it was just a costume. So Mike and Dave took it upon themselves to make this "I love pro choice" and flaunt it in the door window of the cosmetology shop. And of course once those pack of wolves set there eyes upon them they ran back into the shop. In fear of being given the same endless/meaningless bitching that I was. I don't blame them no guy deserves that from them. Within 10 min of that incident the principles secretary comes into Graphics looking for me I follow her to his office. With Mr Fisher, I explained I meant no harm and I thought it was just so gore and controversial that I couldn't pass it up. I also explained why I thought the girls were so offended by it in the first place. With that said he replied that not everybody is on the same open minded intellectual plane as me and therefore to not disturb those who just "don't get it" It is best I retire my bloody fetus and coat hanger until the end of school. Felling understood I did so and walked out with a slight smirk upon my face.

What I have learned by this is don't expect close minded over-emotional cliquey high school girls to understand an artists' view on powerful topics. They can't begin to fathom the complexity of it.

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Blurty for Juliana.

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