"Just eat."

Last night was difficult for me. A decided that telling me to just "eat" during the day would be helpful. "Just have lunch, it's not a big deal." He made some mention about how simple it would be to eat a grilled cheese sandwich. My mind flashed to a time, shortly after I was out of the hospital, where I was terrified of cheese. It sounds funny, and it kind of is. But to me at the time, cheese equaled fat. Cheese equaled laziness. Disgustingness. It took time and some rather strange events to help me, as my mom said, "Become one with cheese." Eating a grilled cheese sandwich isn't simple. Eating isn't simple. Not for me. And you know, I'm okay with that right now. Maybe it's because when I do eat, I am totally in the moment. I am savouring the tastes and textures. I am marveling at the taste of the different spices, and I am grateful for the food that I have and that I am taking the time to nourish my soul and my body with good food.

Long story short, after A's unsolicited "advice", I spent 50 minutes on the phone with my good friend, LC. I was outside, in the dark, sobbing. He doesn't understand, and the killer is that he's not open to listening...at least he wasn't last night.

It hurts. My ED does not define me by any means, but it is an important part of me. It's shaped who I am today, and I embrace it for that. I hate it, don't get me wrong. If I could remove it from my brain, like a surgeon removes a tumor, I would. But it's not that simple, is it? I hate how my ED manipulates my thoughts and feelings. I hate how it denies me LIFE.

Does A think I enjoy this? I don't know, and he just was not able to listen last night. Again, that was the absolute most frustrating part. Here is someone who sees me at my strongest and my weakest, and he's in denial about this major part of me.

Ouch. And what's going to happen? (Here I'm able to remind myself to not get ahead of the present. Live in the moment. Live in the moment.)

I woke up this morning, tiptoed downstairs, and spent a good hour doing yoga stretches. I quietly cried as I stretched. I looked at my legs before me, my pale thighs, my taut calf muscles, my freckled arms reaching up to the sky, and I thought of all the pain I have intentionally caused myself. I felt so bad for my poor body. It's like a child, it relies on me to feed and nourish it, and for so long, I have denied it the most basic foods and nourishment.

I need support. I don't need to be told what I'm not doing right. I know I don't do a lot right.

I need to be told what I'm doing right. I need to get positive reinforcement, not negative.

But A...is not open to hearing this right now. In this matter, he sees the world as very black and white. Either/or. How can I possibly pick up C and drive her home if I haven't eaten all day?

I admit, this is not ideal. This is not something I'm proud of; however, I need no more I'm-a-shitty-mother-ammunition. I have plenty of that. I need him to understand that I DO NOT respond to hunger the way many people do. I need him to understand that I, in a fit of madness/brilliance at the age of 12 or 13, reprogrammed my body to NOT want lunch. Not only am I not hungry, but food is rather repulsive to me at that time of day. It's going to take time to work on it. I told LC last night that if I could afford it, I would admit myself into an inpatient program for my eating disorder immediately. I would. I don't feel like it's a major issue in my life, I do okay. But I could be healthier, I know this. And I'm ready for the next step, painful though it will be.

Alas, inpatient programs or even intensive outpatients programs are not an option right now. I have no insurance. I cannot afford this.

Nothing is ever the simple black and white, either/or A seems to think my anorexia is. His naivety is annoying, aggrevating, but slightly sweet. Do you really think anything in life is that simple? How cute! How wrong, but how cute! What a sheltered life he's led...

...and how I do not envy him!

[still feeling sad]