Support groups that aren’t needed
They don’t advocate violence, child pornography or bomb-building, but they are outlaws of the Internet world. Web hosts like Yahoo shut them down when they find them. The sites soon resurface under different names, like ever-changing passwords in an underground resistance.
“Anas” always find each other.
Ana is shorthand for anorexia. It is also shorthand for those suffering from the eating disorder, though on these Web sites, anas generally consider their condition a lifestyle choice rather than a mental illness. Under pressure from doctors and therapists who say the sites normalize and even glamorize the sometimes-fatal disorder, Web hosts have tried to eliminate them.
But the “pro-ana” sites persist. Postings arrive 24 hours a day from Australia, Greenland, the Isle of Man, Spain and Germany. This isn’t a uniquely American phenomenon, though the sites apparently originated in the United States. The obsession with weight crosses boundaries of culture and geography.
In the United States, about 7 million girls and women are thought to have serious eating disorders. Because most keep their dangerous eating behavior secret, the precise number can’t be determined.
For the girls and women who log on, the sites provide inspiration to persevere in their food deprivations. Sites carry photos of rail-thin models and emaciated women that anas call “triggers,” meaning the images yank the wavering anorexic or bulimic back into the grip of the eating disorder — for which they are grateful.
To them, eating is a sign of weakness; starving shows strength. It’s why so many of the posts are tinged with an elitist tone. It is painful and difficult to starve oneself. Few people can do it. So these girls take pride in their willpower and self-control.
Excerpt from a posted essay:
“I refuse to give in to the pathetic whimpers my body makes. I refuse to accept its supposed limitations. I will cross every line it tries to draw. … I refuse to let the screams of hunger throw me off. “
Plea on Web site bulletin board:
“Guys, I’m having a really weak moment; I haven’t eaten anything at all today, but right now I really, really, REALLY want to. I don’t want to give in to the craving, tell me what I should do to forget about it.”
Reply from weepy: “I wish it was as easy as it used to be. If I told myself I wasn’t hungry, I wasn’t. I played some great tricks on my mind. It’s so hard now. I feel so isolated. Thank goodness for this place. I can talk to people who can relate. I need all the encouragement I can get.”
The girls and women see the sites as a lifeline, a refuge from the judgment of family and friends. For many anorexics and bulimics, the Web sites are the only place where others understand their all-consuming compulsion to be thin. It’s the only place they can share their shame about binging on entire boxes of doughnuts or voice their anger at what they consider intrusive interference from concerned loved ones.
The sites illustrate the unintended consequences of a tool as far-reaching as the Internet. It turns the entire world into a corner cafe. A person can connect with like-minded folks, no matter how twisted and self-destructive the common interest.
Acceptance and encouragement from fellow anas can keep sufferers from seeking help. They say without treatment about 20 percent with serious disorders will die.
The sites are also disturbing for what they say about us and our own contribution to the disorder. Across most of the globe today, no physical attribute is revered more in a female than slenderness. These girls and women are living in a culture of thinness not of their own creation but of ours.
Chocolate Chip: “Wow it is soooo great to talk to people who actually understand. What drives me nuts is that I know people think really skinny celebrities and models are beautiful. So why do I look “sick” when I have the same figure as them? It seems like some sort of sick joke that society and the media is playing on me … on all of us.”
(Joan Ryan is a columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle. Her e-mail is joanryan@sfchronicle.com.)