Ana - 1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I woke up early in the morning, around five instead of my usual six o’clock. I stepped quickly and quietly out of bed and to the digital scales in the kitchen. I looked down as the zero passed back and forth across the liquid crystal display, trying to keep from fidgeting. I calmed down a little when the scales read 170 pounds instead of the 5000 they did in my dream.

But I didn’t calm down much. I was still so fat. I could grab my belly, I could stretch out the love-handles on my sides; it disgusted me. I stepped off the scales, discouraged and depressed. Ten minutes later, I straightened my five feet eight inches frame in front of a full length mirror.

Again, I was disappointed. I was just fucking huge!

Slowly, I got dressed in the baggiest clothes I had, trying to hide the bulge of my stomach in so much cloth. I headed, wanting to sink into the ground, to the bus. A couple of hours later, I sat in class, looking around the room from my seat in the back.

“It was officially determined that the assassination of President Kennedy in November of 1963 was not a conspiracy, and Lyndon B. Johnson was sworn into office…” the teacher droned. I saw a boy lift the back of his shirt to scratch his back. The waistband of his underwear showed, and my eye immediately stuck to the bare skin. He was what I wanted, what I wanted to BE. His waist was so slender, skin so smooth. I stared, and then lowered my head onto the desk. Something had to change.

That night I turned on my laptop and began looking around, searching for ways to get rid of my problem. Banners and ads screamed at me, always exclaiming some unbelievable, amazing solution. “Lose weight fast with Xenadrine™!” “Try the 48 Hour Hollywood Miracle Diet™!” “Jenny Craig™ is for you!”

I looked at diet pills, exercise programs, the negative calorie diet, everything. I sighed, about to give up and turn off the laptop when a search engine item caught my eye.
“Pro-ana” it said. This was something I hadn’t read about with all the other diet pills and exercise programs.

Clicking on the link, I only became more intrigued. A warning popped up, saying that the site was not meant for anyone under eighteen. I quickly clicked “ok”. Immediately, another box popped up disclaiming any harm by or misuse of information on the site. Again, I clicked “ok”. Yet another box popped up, and without even hesitating to read it, I quickly pressed the button yet again. This had to be something interesting.

The site was run by a female anorectic. She claimed that anorexia nervosa was her lifestyle, and her choice. I had never heard of anything like this before. Everything I’d ever seen referred to anorexia as a disease, something socially taboo and shameful. I thought about closing the browser window.

But something intrigued me. This was a way to lose weight… wasn’t it? I’d simply not eaten before and lost about ten pounds, but that wasn’t anorexia. That was simply not eating things that were really fatty or full of carbs, only low-cal items. This was more extreme. This would work. There were tips on this site! I couldn’t believe it, tips for anorectics to HELP them be anorexic! Advice like “when you want to eat, suck on ice”, “try caffeinated mints”, “green tea extract can make your body burn up to 110 extra calories a day”, and “if you really want to eat, count to one hundred, naming a reason not to eat for every number you say. Chances are you’ll realize you don’t really want it” was everywhere.

The next day, I found myself in the health store, hunting down green tea extract, bitter orange extract, and protein shakes. Later I picked up a package of caffeine pills from the dollar store.

I had made a solid decision to lose weight as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to be fat, but I knew I had to keep this decision to myself. Not everyone would understand my choice. The woman who ran the site was a prime example of people not minding their own business, having been forced into treatment before by her family.

I started my plan the next day, taking all the extracts and downing a couple of the caffeine pills, swallowed with coffee. As I walked into the doors of the school, the energy buzz from the caffeine really started to affect me, and I liked the empty feeling in my stomach from not eating breakfast. It gave me a feeling of accomplishment, a feeling of control.

“Seth!” one of my friends yelled across the commons area. I smiled and gave her a brief hug.

“Hey Nicky, what’s up?”

“Not much, did you go to Brandon’s party over the weekend?” she asked. I shook my head in response, and she immediately launched into a detailed summary of everything I had missed.

“… so then the dumbass huffed some gas, and started mumbling and nobody could make any sense out of anything he said! A minute or two later he just snapped out of it, though, but somebody already called 911! It was so crazy!” she finished, with me laughing at someone else’s idiocy. “So come with me to go get breakfast!”

“Nah, I’m not hungry, but thanks Nicky.” I told her. That moment doesn’t seem like much. To me, it was control. It was a conscious decision to become what I wanted, to become what I should be.

The rest of the day passed slowly. During lunch, I sat down at the table and chatted with other people while they ate. No one questioned my decision not to eat. It was just as good, anyway. I always felt, well, dirty when I ate in front of people. It was like I was doing something wrong, or drawing attention to the fact that I was fat.

I zoomed out of school that day, and got home at about two o’clock. We get out of school at 1:30, thankfully, since seniors have the option of not taking a class during the last period.

I headed straight for the kitchen. I had pulled out a bag of chips and opened them before I caught myself. What was I doing?! It was so much of a habit to get a snack after school that I completely forgot my resolve. Was this how fucking huge I’d gotten? After all the careful planning and skipping two meals, was I going to throw away my work for a chip?

Fuck that!

I looked at the chips, and then tossed them into the trash. It would be better to not even have the temptation. I filled the biggest glass I could find with ice water, and chugged it down. I filled the glass again, and sat on the couch to sip on it.

I watched TV contently, proud of myself for having stuck to something. Proud of having control over my life. Proud of being able to become what I wanted.

My mother and siblings got home, and I promptly went to my room. An hour later I could smell food, but smiled knowing that I was getting more out of not having any than they were by eating it. All I had to do was avoid it. All I had to do was drink water. All I had to do was relish the empty feeling growing in my stomach, the feeling of purity, lightness, slenderness.

That feeling, it was amazing. There are no words for it. I felt as if I’d been ridden of my problem already, though it was far from over. But it encouraged me greatly. I knew I could do this. If other people could do it, so could I.

I would NOT be fat anymore. I would NOT be called names. I would NOT be afraid to wear tight clothes. I would NOT be afraid to go shirtless. I would NOT settle for less than what I should be anymore.

That was the day Ana became my friend, my confidant, my companion. She would surely be able to help me in life. She gave me control. Ana gave me a way to govern my life, to feel like I was the one pulling the strings. She replaced my depression and anxiety with feelings of hopefulness. She gave me something to try for, to work towards. She became my role model and partner.

Ana was my friend.