this is my truth:
I will ALWAYS have a “difficult” relationship with food. I hope I don’t always see it as my enemy. “adversary” is a better word. I have accepted that. my head is so utterly tired. I wonder if I’ll ever eat anything, EVER again, without hating myself afterwards. I really want to look forward to eating something I love, maybe with a family member or friend;. It’s been a long time. I don’t mentally count calories or carbs, etc. I have no idea about that stuff. it’s the act of feeding this imperfect, disgusting body, so it can continue living in this world. THIS is why I am so very weary.
so tired of stretching out clothing so it won’t cling to my body. exhausted from constant pulling on stuff, rearranging and tugging. I think if I can just ADJUST the clothes…just pull them as far away from my skin – my body’s outline – and they’ll float around me.
hunger is good. this is a recurring theme in my writing. I’m so unworthy and underserving of food. the hunger feeling is a stingy, cold bitch that only shows up when I’m doing something right. she feeds me positive reinforcement for the ed behavior.
just light a cigarette and grab a piece of gum.