Tag Archives: pro ana

Mono Inc. – Symphony of Pain

21 Aug

This song is  not exactly about eating disorders, but still, I associate it with that time.

Isn’t it true that you give to your ED whatever it wants? Drowning in her sea of sweet demand? Whatever you may need, I’ll give to you?
Dancing down on danger lane… that’s the way it always felt. It’s a dangerous dance. Whistling the symphony of pain? Yeah, I did. So many times…

And isn’t it a dark romance? My ED and I? Me and Mia? Me and Ana? Close this dark romance…

I know I’ve been lying in bed listening to this song over and over again… every line describes the way I felt. This song is not meant to be about eating disorders. For me it’s all about ED though.

Rising high and falling deep
reduce me to despair
drowning in your sea of sweet demand
feed me when I beg for more
bale is in the air
blink at me and I’m at your command

Whatever you may say
whatever you may do
whatever you may need
I’ll give it to you

There’s blood red rain
coming down on your bed tonight
blood red rain’s on your face
close this dark romance
as we dance down on danger lane
whistling the symphony of pain

Shadows on the bedroom wall
divert me from the truth
no way back
tar and feather me
discard the alarm device
sprinkle me with youth
close my eyes there’s no more need to see

Whatever you desire
whatever you may claim
whatever you may take
I’ll take the same

There’s blood red rain
coming down on your bed tonight
blood red rain’s on your face
close this dark romance
as we dance down on danger lane
whistling the symphony of pain


Ted Leo – Me and Mia

23 Jul

Classic. And one of the best songs about both anorexia and bulimia.
“Fighting food to find transcendence”
That is an amazing line… and so true. Sad, but true.

As I was walking through a life one morning
The sun was out, the air was warm
But oh, I was cold
And though I must have looked a half a person
To tell the tale in my own version
It was only then that I felt whole

Do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal:
To get a little self-control
I know how hard you try
I see it in your eyes
Call your friends, because we’ve forgotten
What it’s like to eat what’s rotten
And what’s eating you alive
Might help you to survive

We went on, as we were on a mission
Latest in a Grand Tradition
Oh, what did we find?
It was Ego who was flying the banner
Me and Mia, Ann and Ana, oh
We’d been unkind

Do you believe in something beautiful?
Then, get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal:
To get a little self-control
I see it in your eyes
I see it in your spine
But call your friends, because we’ve forgotten
What it’s like to eat what’s rotten
And what’s eating you alive
Might help you to survive

Even the nights that could get better
And even the days aren’t all that bad
And after a week of fighting
As more and more it seems the right thing

Do you believe in something beautiful?
Then get up and be it
Fighting for the smallest goal:
To gain a little self-control
Won’t anybody here just let you disappear?
Not doctors, nor your mom nor dad
But me and Mia, Ann and Ana
Know how hard you try
Don’t you see it in my eyes?

Sick to death of my dependence
Fighting food to find trancendence
Fighting to survive
More dead, but more alive
Cigarettes and speed to live
And sleeping pills to feel forgiven
All that you contrive
And all that you’re deprived

All the bourgeois social angels
Telling you you’ve got to change
Don’t have any idea
They’ll never see so clear
But don’t forget what it really means to hunger strike
When you don’t really need to
Some are dying for the cause, but that don’t make it yours
And even the nights, they could get better


Songs about Ana & Mia

23 Jul

I decided to make a  new category – songs about eating disorders. About anorexia and bulimia. About addiction in general. Everything that fits the big picture.

Music has always been important to me – especially the lyrics! I always asked everyone to listen to the lyrics… and usually, nobody will actually listen to them…

That’s fine with me. Most lyrics or not worth listening to anyway… but there are those special ones I really love.
I will share those songs with you.

Songs about ana and mia.

I will choose songs that move me personally. I hope you will love as much as I do! I’ll give you the lyrics and maybe a youtube video… listen, read and enjoy. Mind the lyrics…

I might also choose some German songs (I grew up bilingual…) and translate them for you. I hope you will like them as much as I do.

Here a list of the songs (will be updated each time I post a new one)

  1. Ted Leo – Me and Mia 
  2. Mono Inc. – Symphony of Pain

Wounds heal. Scars stay.

5 Jun

Scars. On the inside and on the outside.

Wounds heal, scars stay. Forever.

There are scars all over my arms. Scars all over my lower legs.

Especially those on my arms can easily be seen by other people in summer. I remember my teen years. I was anxious to hide any hint of self injury. And I was so embarrassed when I failed. I thought of the most creative lie for any injury. Not just the neighbors’ cat. That’s lame. My father was building a wooden summerhouse (true part) and I feel and hurt myself on a wooden board with nails on it (lie…). There were more of those lies. But I didn’t keep it up for a very long time. There is a difference between wounds from self-injury and accidents. And once there are too many of those wounds… there’s just no other explanation.

I was always suprised that people would still ask what I’ve done. I am sure they wouldn’t have asked if they had know for sure that the scars were from self-injury. Well, after a short time, I stopped lying. Things were just too obvious, I couldn’t stand thinking of new accidents anymore and actually, I just didn’t care what people would think.

So I told them. “Yeah, this IS what it looks like! This IS self – injury. I DID cut myself. And people were like “Oh.” More often than not, that was the only thing they said on this topic. That was fine with me. Actually, I wasn’t embarrassed anymore. I would have talked to them about it. It became easy for me, I was frank with anyone who wanted to talk about it, it wasn’t awkward anymore. But I think most people just can’t take it. They don’t want to hear anything about these things. It doesn’t have a place in their ideal world. That’s okay. It’s not my concern.

A few weeks ago, something strange happened. I did cut myself again, on the backside of my lower leg. That’s bad enough, but okay… you all know, there are relapses. Always. And I am pretty sure there are still gonna be relapses for quite a long time. But they become fewer! That’s the good part!
Anyway, I did cut myself again. And it is summer. There were some really hot days. I do love the summer and I really don’t want to wear long clothes when it’s that warm… I love to feel the sun on my skin. And I didn’t want to bow. So I put on a summer dress and covered the injury with a little make up. I figured that most people wouldn’t look at that spot anyway, everyone is so busy with themselves… For the bigger part, I was right. But there was this one moment. Two friends and I were going to a bus stop. The street was steeply rising and I was going in front of them.

A mistake. But I simply forgot.

One of my friends was like “Devi, I just see this as I am walking behind you… what’s that on your leg?”
The other friend asked “Was it a cat?” (she was SERIOUS, no ironie or sarcarsm… I guess she doesn’t know it is a lame excuse for cutting yourself)

And at that moment, I noticed… it is much more difficult to talk about it when you see the actual injury. When you can see crusted blood instead of scars. When it is fresh. I have never been in that situation before! It was awkward.  My voice was very cool and dismissive. I simply said “Yes, it is what it looks like.  No cat. It was me and my scissors.”

My friends reaction:

“Oh.” “WHAT?” (very shocked voice)

Up to this day, we never talked about it again.

Hope dies last.

3 Oct

Hope does last.

It is not that bad. No, actually, I can’t complain. It’s been worse. The pain has been stronger. It could be worse right now. It could hurt much more, as it did in the past. it has been darker, lonelier.

I did hit rock button, but that’s over.

Now I am only falling down. Imagining, it could be worse. Be worse. Worse. Than I stand up again. This sentence is strengthening.

I tell myself: It is worth it. Soon the sentence turns into a question but I don’t want to listen anymore.

There’s my conclusion so far. Fate doesn’t spare anyone, there are always bumps in the road.

Hope dies last. Faith dies first.

Life goes on. It might be worth it. Im not sure though. Hope dies last.


22 May

How much time did I already squander for my eating disorder? How many time did you spend engaging in those behaviors, planing meals, purging, dieting?

Have you ever thought about that? Yesterday, a friend and I had a discussion about wasting time… My friend said, that he was mad at himself for all the time he wasted playing computer games. So unproductive. I told him, at least you enjoyed yourself. At least you had fun. So you didn’t really waste your time!

I told him, how I had wasted my time. How much time a eating disorder takes up. More than any computer game. And you never reach the last level and win. There is no happy end. You never kill the enemy. You can only kill yourself. That’s the end, that’s what comes at the end of the way, if you want to it to the end.

I didn’t enjoy myself when purging, when starving myself. I made myself suffer. And if I imagine I had read a good book each time instead of engaging in my eating disorder… I would have read through entire libraries.

Or if I had done something for college or school … I would have had the best grades ever.

Fact is, I did not do all these things.

But you can’t change the past. You can only ruin the present my worrying about it…

Time is what we always want most, but we use it very badly. What is time? What is a day?
Ask the dictionary…

Day, n.  A period of twenty-four hours, mostly misspent
Ambrose Bierce

Wiliam Ernest Henley – Invictus

22 May

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
looms but the horror of the shade,
and yet the menace of the years
finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.