Eating disorder…

Eating disorders are such Life Complicators. Life cannot be simple when food is not simple. My mind is a constant checks and balances. Every day, every meal, every thought of food is a battle. 

Today is my 14th day of not puking, not stuffing my face and eating Paleo. Fourteen consecutive days I should say, I’ve been at this Paleo way since December. If you can recall, the weekends have been were all hell breaks loose; sadly, this was actually improvement. Before I tried Paleo I was NomVomming mostly everyday. On Paleo, I managed to hold it together during the week. These past two weekends I’ve managed to refrain from succumbing to the behaviors of my Mind Fuckery. In all truthfulness, I’ve just stuck my head in a book rather than a toilet bowl. 

Reading has been my safe place. Everyday during the week I go to Chipotle (cuz they have food with integrity), I get my salad with guac and either chicken or steak and while I eat, I read. It slows me down and diverts my focus. The food, though still yummy, is less interesting. My food is then savored rather than inhaled. At home for dinner I do the same, read and eat. And these past two weekends, I’ve read to pass the time between…everything, so that I do not eat until it is time to eat. 

Between the two, reading and eating, I’ve managed to keep my bulimia in check. There is still an edge. An anxiety when I enter a store, see cookies and start mentally planning a Nomvom. I have managed to wrestle these thoughts into submission but then there is still that edge, that parting snicker of until next time. I want to cry after every match. I’ve ended up leaving the store on a couple occasions because I just didn’t trust myself, being around it only fuels those urges that I want so badly to be gone from my psyche.

And that is in a store. I am alone and there is a time and money barrier from me and the Food of Fuckery. At a Super Bowl party where is that barrier? It’s an unofficially Stuff Your Face with Junk Food and Drink day and all of my triggers just an arms reach away, or even just a simple yes when there is an offer. An explanation is required if I decline, or a comment of ‘being good’ and my mind is so muddled in anxiety that producing a somewhat normal/rational reply is mentally taxing.

I am still too fragile. Just going through the motions is difficult enough, but trying to come off as somewhat normal, or just not a fucking weirdo, at best, takes every part of me. Succumbing to the behaviors is not any easier, but at least there is a light at the end of the tunnel I’m dragging myself through.

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