Thinspo: Chasing Ana

P R O L O G U E

Each image provokes a new, horrifying kind of envy that causes my toes to curl and my stomach to clench.

Flat stomachs, sharp hip bones, protruding collarbones and the glorious thigh gap.

Nipped in waists, slender legs, delicate arms and elegant fingers.

Naughty pickers wear big knickers.

A moment on the lips, a life-time on the hips.

Skip dinner, wake up thinner.

"Your body can do anything, it's just your mind you have to convince!"

"You're not hungry, you're bored. Learn the difference."

"Sweat like a pig to look like a fox."

Words and images flash across my screen as I scroll through Tumblr before switching to Pinterest. Back and forth, back and forth I go, chewing hard enough on my lower lip to draw blood as my insides twist with uncontrollable jealousy.

Thinspiration.

Every morning on my way to work, I have to walk past the bakery at the end of my road, every morning I have to inhale the intoxicating scent of fresh bread and sweet pastries. Thinspiration is what helps me resist.

When the evenings hit and the cravings are at their worst, I slink downstairs and stare into my house-mates cupboards, filled with a variety of snacks and fatty foods, desperate for me to scoff them - thinspiration stops me in my tracks.

My own cupboard doesn't hold much. Herbal teas, instant coffee and some veg that's already been left alone for one too many days.

I do have a single packet of chocolate digestive biscuits - the good, expensive kind that have sat in the fridge unopened for the past week and a half. The urge to go and nibble, just one, maybe two is almost overwhelming most nights but having them there keeps me strong. It's like a constant test of my abilities and strength. I like to prove to myself that I can do it, that I have the power.

When the hunger begins to tear and rip at my insides, tears stinging my eyes and nose as the pain becomes unbearable, I fill myself with endless glasses of water. I drink enough that I reach the point where throwing up seems likely; despite there being nothing to come up, keep drinking until I can barely move and my stomach howls in pain. It does the trick.

I do crunches and jumping jacks, I go for a run, I grab bleach and sponges and go on a crazy cleaning spree - whatever I need to do to keep myself distracted from possibly breaking and giving in. I do it without hesitation, even when I have no strength left, no energy and feel sapped of everything.

I will be beautiful if it kills me.

I will be thin.