I wanted to try something a little different and make a small blog post documenting the ideal images of women through the years, staring in the 1900's. Here we go.

1901:

Female models of the 1920's:

Women of the 1930's

Women of the 1950's

Women of the 1960's

1970's

1980's

1990's

2000-2007

How did we get to where we are now? What and who decides what is beautiful and what is not, and why do we allow the media to influence us to tell us our value based on size?

I know that the media is not completely responsible for eating disorders, but it does play a role as well as many other factors and the role that it plays is a big one. They set the standard, today's models, magazines, and TV shows influence us more than we sometimes realize.

It's always going to be there, you cannot escape it. You can either learn to ignore it, or let it take over you. I remember when I was a little girl I would stand naked in front of a mirror with my fashion magazie out, turned to the swimsuit section, and hold it up beside me, comparing myself to the models.

This is not healthy. How did we go from Marilyn to Twiggy? Why have we begun to measure our worth and out ability for success by the number we see on the scare?

I know I am not one to talk and that I find myself very often putting myseld down about the way I look. But this has gone too far. Some say nothing is going to change, but I say...nothing is impossible. And if we can go from idolizing healthy to dying, then I think we can do anything - including learning to stop idolizing body images and instead learn to appreciate the things that really matter.

Thought I'd give a rundown on the past few days and how they've been. I have dropped a pound but it's better from a pound a day, no?

Anyway, I went to a friends house to stay the night. We had pizza. I figured since I hadn't had anything all day, I could pretend to be normal and have a slice, right? Wrong. Total panic attack which was bad because I had to keep it quiet and not show that anything was wrong.

Today I had popcorn and some coke (not diet) and bread so I think I'm doing okay. My stomach doesn't even hurt. I'm afraid that I'm gaining weight because my stomach feels full so that's why I'm writing this so that I won't think about it. I want to be able to do something right finally, but my body and my mind are telling me I'm wrong wrong wrong. Either way I feel like I'm going to be dissapointed with myself.

I'm afraid, no...I'm terrified that if I eat normal...if I let myself eat, then I'm going to gain weight. This terrifies me because I'm disgusted with how I am now. So I don't know what will happen if I gain. I don't know anything.

I still visit pro-ana and or "thinspiration" sites, even though they go against my morals. A lot of girls I know use the excuse of visiting these sites because it's the only place they can go to to look for support. But with me, that's not the case. I visit them because it's easy. It's easier. They are most definitely not the only places I could go to for support or understanding. There are plenty of sites out there promoting health and recovery that would gladly accept and support me through my disorder. But taking that step to admit you have a problem, convince yourself that what you're doing is not normal and not healthy, and coming out about it not only to others but to yourself - that's hard.

Recovery is a very, very difficult journey. And yes, I have not washed my hands completely of these pro-ana sites. The thing is, they'll always be there. And I support their rights to the first ammendment and know that they're as necessary as all the good that's out there too. I'm just terrified for anyone I love to happen upon them. It's like my little guilty pleasure. I don't visit them for the belonging or the support. I vist them to feel normal. I visit them when I'm feeling guilty for the thoughts I have and the things I do. It's that whole "well...they're doing it, so I can too!" mentality for me.

I find myself a little more dragged in every time I visit those sites. But I want to be clear on one thing: I did not develop any eating disorders from these sites. Sure, I got tips and a little push ahead from them. But it took me to be sick to go looking for them in the first place. I did not happen upon them by chance, so I consider it my fault for visiting them. I mean, someone who eats fast food every day is responsible for how unhealthy their food choices are. They chose to go into the fast food joints in the first place even if they didn't know what they were getting into.

But I'm not pointing fingers and saying that visiting these sites doesn't make anything worse. It really does, it's given me the false belief that I can get away with starving myself. They've made me think that unhealthy is good. They've reaffirmed my reasons and my wants that ana so often throws at me.

So I haven't posted in a few days. Although my last one was full of success and hope, it's been a hard past few days for me since then. I've dropped another two pounds these past two days. I haven't changed my eating habbits much. My sleeping scheduale doesn't even make sense anymore. I don't understand what's going on half the time. I don't know if I'm anxious or terrified about seeing my new psychiatrist. I just know I am in desperate need for someone to talk to.

I feel that I'm living in a stranger's body these days, with someone else's mind. I feel like I'm watching someone else live their life each day in and day out. It's like I'm watching  my life from the outside. Last night I had a huge freak out and spent the whole night pacing my house up and down trying desperately to remember what things were like when I didn't have this problem.

I remember eating pizza, I think, and maybe not caring. I don't remember why it was all right to eat then. I can't remember what it was like to feel okay, like it's all right and that I'm not disgusting. I tried and tried to remember so that maybe I could eat now too and not freak out. But I couldn't. I don't know or remember what it's like to eat and not feel useless...and I'm scared maybe that I'm just lying to myself; maybe I never did feel okay. Maybe I was never healthy.

My mom is getting on my case way too much about my eating habbits. She's probably concerned but it comes off as annoyance nowadays and I can't say I blame her. I really can't stand myself, you know? If anyone else had my problems I would think they were stupid and that there was a perfectly logical solution to all of this. But when it's me, my problems...it's so different and alien. And nothing is logical.

I'm afraid of myself and what I'll do. I can't stop lying to all of my friends. I'm trying to put on the "recovering" mask. But I'm not getting better, I think I may be sinking in worse and I'm so scared. But I'm excited. It seems like no matter how hard my day is I can come home and feel my bones on my hips and ribs and back and feel calmer...like there's one thing I can count on. I don't know what I'll possibly do without those bones.

I went swimming with some friends and I really didn't want to. I mean, I came over with a huge jacket on in the summer but the water looked so nice so I ended up borrowing this girl's older swimsuit that used to fit her but was too small. She kept talking about how jealous she was of my body and that she wished she was thin like me. I thought I was going insane. I saw my reflection and was so angry. I was pudgy, meaty looking. I looked soft.
Soft has to be my most hated word. It's such a disgusting, suffocating sounding word. I never want to be soft.

My mom keeps buying me food even when I tell her not to and I keep having to throw it out so I won't eat it. It makes me feel so terrible. I can't eat it though or I'll feel worse. It's not like I'm not eating. I had popcorn and I think something else today. And I mean, come on...I'm an idiot. Who do I think I am? I'm not superhuman...I have a body that I'm selfishly starving...deteriorating, killing. This is a blessing that I'm abusing. I wish my mind weren't so retarded and I wish I would stop making excuses for myself.

I cannot sleep. So I thought I'd post this...that's about all that's been going on today. My fourth of July was dumb. I sat at home sick eating an apple and watching TV. This sucks.

I feel so proud of myself. I feel like I've finally taken some sort of a step towards recovery. I am scared but I feel so liberated already. Today I've been so nervous. I ended up posting on my blog (my public, real life one that my friends have access to) a lot of personal stuff and basically said that I had a problem and hopefully, maybe am trying to get over it.

I didn't expect the supportive, loving, understanding comments I got from my friends. I can't explain how good it feels to have people tell you they support you. I don't feel, for the first time in my life, like I have to hide as much. I just feel better. I feel a tiny bit less trapped within myself. And it's amazing. This is definitely what you could call another major "blink" in my fight.

Of course, nothing's perfect.

Today has not been so good. Mostly, I've had just water and a few more caffine pills than I probably should have.

I ended up making myself eat an apple. It's gross but I immediately got the runs as if my body was rejecting the food which worries me. I haven't weighed myself today though, which is huge progress.

I don't know, I feel like I'm less afraid because now people are aware and I know it's going to be hard and people are going to be just as unsupportive as the other ones have been awesome. So I know that the worst may still be ahead.

Ugh, my stomach is killing me at the moment, I can't tell if it's cramps from the runs or hunger pains or both...I'm afraid to eat anything right now but I may have an egg of something in an hour or so if my stomach calms down.

I know for a fact that just because I am more open now does not mean that things will be a cakewalk. I still want to lose weight. But at least it's not this huge secret that's destroying me and is kept silent. I think the hardest part is admitting that something is wrong, and I admit it: I HAVE A PROBLEM.

Saying that in itself, is a beautiful thing to do. To say it and know it. Because it takes a problem to have recovery, and there is hope.

Now I just have to FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT.

If you're feeling alone in your fight for recovery, know that you are not.

This is a song I can highly relate to at the moment, I find it very accurately describes the control my disorder holds over me. It's not very inspiration...but it is eye-opening.

"Sad But True" - Metallica

It's taken a while for me to realize how much I'm losing to this. There are the good days, and then there are almost always the bad days. But the closer I get to my goal, the farther I estrange myself from everything that used to matter.

I used to want to lose weight so I could get all the guys. Now, I don't care about anyone but myself. I don't want to be in a relationship because I'm afraid of getting close, and the only thing that seems to matter is losing weight.

I used to want to lose weight so I could be more sucessful in the acting industry. Now I feel too weak to get up and go to auditions. Now I almost don't care about what used to be all I wanted. Now what made me so happy is a source of stress and imminent failure.

I used to want to lose weight so people wouldn't make fun of me, the pudgy girl, anymore. Now I find myself not caring what anyone thinks. Now people are saying I have a problem and that I'm too thin. And now...what they say is something I ignore, it's not a concern anymore. And being what I am, is not enough.

I used to want to lose weight so I could wear nice, stylish clothes. Now I have a hard time finding clothes that fit my small frame. Now...I can't fill out clothes and I've lost my womanly shape to wear them.

I used to want to lose weight so I could finally love myself and feel beautiful. Now...I feel is ugly, ugly, ugly. And fat.

And I hate myself.

Things seem to be back to normal with my friend and I. I was really worried about that, and I really hope she won't worry about me or think I have an eating disorder because that would just...be bad. I don't have a lot of people I talk to period. So I don't want to lose her too.

So it turns out the past week I've lost some more weight. It doesn't just show by the scale, it shows in that my pants are getting big...my new ones. I'm not going to lie, I'm still proud about it. But I know it's probably not a good thing. At least...my mom didn't make me feel that way. She looked at me and told me I was too thin and she sounded all pissed off and said I couldn't see it anyway so it wasn't like it mattered.

I guess I've known for a long time that nothing great is going to happen if I lose weight like I used to dream it would. But I keep hoping something will happen. Something will happen, like I'll fall over or something so that I'll know I can stop now.

I wish I were skinny so I could stop now. Because maybe health doesn't matter to me. Maybe people all my life were telling me that it was important to be thin...not healthy. Maybe I care more about being thin then health. I know a lot of people do. Maybe it's because thin seems to visibly get people places. You can see it when you look at someone and you want it so bad.

Just like how I want to lose more. I don't think I have a goal anymore, I think I just want to lose until I can't anymore. But I'm supposed to get better.

I don't think I'm ready to get better. But that's such a stupid, selfish thing to say. But I feel like I'm not thin enough to get better yet, which is dumb. But I do.

How do you know if you're ready to get better, if you're ready to start living again?

I feel terrible. Awful. My one friend who's on vacation right now in the gulf called me. We had this huge argument about medication and I felt personally attacked so I hung up on her. She called me back, and long story short, I freaked out.

I broke down out of nowhere. It must have scared her because it was out of the blue. I guess I have a problem with keeping my emotions pent up and shutting them out with my eating disorder. So I just...blew up, I guess. I was bawling crying and saying random nonsense.

What shocks me the most is that out of nowhere without thinking about it, I cried, "And I'm so, so hungry!" and just started sobbing like a three year old who dropped her ice cream cone. Now, if you know me, this is a big deal. I do not like to cry in front of people. I do not like to cry period. I cry when I can't not cry anymore. End of discussion.

I guess I seemed like a psycho. She told me she loved me and I calmed down and just suddenly started freaking out again and begged her to forget all of what I just said and told her I didn't mean it and I was just tired. I guess today was more stressful than I thought.

She made me promise everything would be okay, that I was all right, before we hung up. I promised.

I don't know.

I don't want to face tomorrow, and I'm really tired. But I will anyway, 'cause I can't control this anymore.