Who is Ana?


I’m an 18 year old girl in my first year of studying to be a doctor. Its the night before a big exam, and I’m in my room in my halls at uni, and still thinking about Ana.

At one point I may have described Ana as a ‘friend’. What is friendship then? Someone there for you? In one respect, I suppose that is true. Since Ana had discovered me, she is always there for me. Whether I like it or not. Or some feeling in the middle maybe.

However Ana isn’t supportive, as a friend should be, she has to have things her way. I suppose you could say she is very manipulative. She gets a kick out of your pains, and likes to put you down, and make you feel bad.¬†How about enemy then. Perhaps. Enemies are there for you too. We all know the saying. But there’s something about her, I can tell she isn’t an enemy either. Yes, sometimes I hate her. But I admit, being with Ana, it gives me a thrill.

When I gazed at protruding hips, or grasped the space underneath my ribs. When I measured the diameter of my wrists under the desk in lectures with my finger and thumb to make sure it had increased in the last 10 minutes. And the buzz of stepping onto the scales and nearing that target.

The feeling of power that she can give. The feeling of being in control. Ana – the liberator.

But you never reach your target. Not if you know Ana. She holds it out like a carrot on a stick. Taking it further away from you. Teasing you.

It isn’t power. It is a false feeling. A lie. Ana baits her acquaintances with this lie. She misleads them into believing they are in control. When really, it is her all along, calling the shots. Like an evil dictator.

And now, remembering Ana, what is Ana to me now? It hasn’t been long since I last saw her. A month maybe. It’s not uncommon for Ana to disappear for a while, and turn up again like an uninvited guest. In a strange way, I maybe miss her occasionally when she’s gone.

But at this moment, I feel like Ana is a pursuer. Someone who ‘follows in an effort to capture’. Although I can’t see her at the moment, I know she is out there, somewhere.

And on the night before a this exam, when I should be cramming, I’m sat writing about Ana.

Knowing Ana hasn’t been easy, and she’s not someone tell others close to me about, not someone I am proud of knowing. In fact, very few people know that I know her.

I am going to tell you the tale about me and Ana.

Are you sitting comfortably…

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