The search terms people used to find my blog made a short poem.
I bake cookies
I’d much rather
Eat all the food
You and me both. But only if I could eat it without gaining and without needing to purge.
Today I wore one of my 2 “skinny dresses”. They’re the same dress in different colors. They’re tight on me. My mom says they’re not, but I feel they are, and I feel uncomfortable in them. That’s why I wore it. It was a constant reminder not to eat. That if I lose some of this weight, I will be comfortable in this dress. That if I don’t eat, this won’t be my skinny dress anymore, it’ll just be a dress.
I loved steamed cabbage. I don’t like raw cabbage at all, but steam that stuff and I love it!
Today is my 200 calorie day. I’ve been trying to spread my calories out into two (or three on the 800 day) meals so I don’t feel like I’m binging, because that triggers me to get into a binge and purge cycle. Since I only have 200 calories today, and limited food resources, separating it into 2 meals is difficult.
Therefore, for my first meal, I had a couple cups of steamed cabbage. It’s like a warm, delicious salad without any of the stuff that adds calories. 44 calories. Woot!
While I was preparing it, my mom asked, “You measure your cabbage??”
Yes. How else will I know how many calories I’m eating? I didn’t say that. I just said yes, and went about making my cabbage.
I hate talking on the phone. I hate making and receiving calls.
At the moment, I have to speak with my school advisor every week by phone to check in and make sure I’m maintaining progress.
I hate it. I start dreading it the day before. I start having thoughts like, “Maybe I can ignore it. Maybe I’ll pretend it didn’t ring through. Maybe I can say my mom’s phone wasn’t working.” So on and so forth.
Panic twists my stomach into the tightest of knots once the phone actually rings. Reluctantly I answer.
When the call is over, I experience a flood of relief knowing that terrible task is done for one more week.
I have some vodka hiding away from my parents in my brother’s fridge. I want to consume it. However, I don’t have any chaser or anything to mix it with. I can’t do straight vodka. Shucks. It’s probably for the best, I’m almost at my 400 calories for today. Maybe in 2 days, when I’m on my 800 day. I think Friday will be vodka day.
I generally cook dinner for my family. My dad usually works around 12 hours a day, and other than my mom, I’m the only one in the house without a job. My mom is recovering from some surgeries, so I make dinner. It’s how I feel less guilty about being mentally broken and not supporting myself.
Last night I made French toast with syrup. Tonight I made meatballs and corn. My mind tells me there’s something really great about cooking food for others that I can’t/won’t eat. It feels selfless and giving. Maybe I’m just trying to justify it.
My mother sits next to me and says, “I ate wayyy too much.”
I smile, knowing I’ve had 582 calories today. Knowing I will have no more than 400 tomorrow. Knowing that each person ate more calories for dinner than I had all day.
It’s strange how I can feel so selfless and caring while preparing their food, and so smug and proud while they eat it. Perhaps I’m just a terrible person.