Okay, for those of you who know me, this will come a quite a surprise. It scared me at first, but I am okay with the idea now. But, I would rather sleep than have to eat. I hate sleep. But I am more afraid of food, of weight, of calories, of imperfection, than I hate sleep. Of course, four days with less than 900 calories will make anybody tired. It will make you cold too, but that is off topic. So, I did something and then I napped so I could have enough energy to do something else. Lovely, right?
Honestly, at the very heart of it, I am not happy that I do not want to eat. I would like to be much more normal and not have to fight to eat. Trust me, the 110 calories from the Pria bar today was scarier than Dr. B. calling me a moral savage. The 50 calories from the rice cake, absolutely petrifying. Eating should not be this hard! Eating should feel free, not out of control, but free. But I do not want to be as fat as I am right now or as fat as I have been in the past. I want to be thin. I want to have hipbones, almost as much as I want my horse here right now. The hipbones are achievable, the horse, not so much.
Maybe I do not want to recover. Somewhere deep down I might hate the idea of recovery. Actually, it is not that deep down, I just refuse to give it up. I do not know why the ED has taken such a sudden downturn and I have become so much sicker. I know I have to pretend this is going to work. I have to pretend I can and will recover. I have to pretend that I might not die this way. I have to pretend I love me and trust me and want to take care of me. Because in the depths of depression I find myself in, I am acting all the time anyways, why not when it counts?
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