More on Eating

It's not that I don't like eating, in fact I love it. I love the taste of freshly baked bread, or home made soup, and in particular I love fresh, warm scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. But I'm afraid of it.

I'm powerless over food, and the only way I can retain what little power I have is to abstain altogether. Not altogether, obviously, else I'd die. But abstain insofar as only eating a very small, very controlled amount every six hours. And making sure I get absolutely no pleasure from it. This is sick behaviour, I know that. I've had enough experience with sick behaviour to know when it's taking hold, but food is truly tricky.

In real life I'm goofy, and I make mistakes. I fall down and I feel like everyone notices when I do. How disgustingly self centred.

I also have successes, and people notice them too, but when I am successful I feel like it was a fluke and I get anxious thinking about when I'm going to be sniffed out as someone who doesn't quite make the grade as previously thought.

The only thing that no one but me can trip me up on is my eating. No one but me has control over what do or don't put into my mouth.

Of course factors contribute, like a change in medication or feeling generally low for a few days, but ultimately it is I who decides.

In a world where I often feel like a nobody and a goof, a clown and a fool, this small control is a big comfort.

This post tonight is from the heart. Not the hip, not the firey, lashing tongue. It's from where I'm at tonight, right now. It's from the isolation of my active head, in full act-out mode.

Is it bad to post when I'm at this level of 'loud head-ness'?

This too shall pass, I know that much.
:)