I did finally get some sleep. After being up all night Tuesday, I got the most amazing hour and a half of sleep Wednesday morning. It doesn’t sound like much, but what it lacked in quantity, it more than made up for in quality.
Then last night, despite going to bed a bit late and then Baby Thing waking to eat a couple times, I eventually got a solid three and a half or so hours. It’s taking its toll on me though. Everything feels just a little off. A little too…much.
I made good food choices today. And I made good eating choices. It hurts though. It’s mentally taxing and physically painful to keep choosing not to eat when I’m not hungry. I know it’s in part the devastating lack of sleep. But I know it’s the eating disorder too. I haven’t had disordered thoughts today–I’ve ignored them all so far. I never let them have voices. But I feel their presence nonetheless. And I’m tired.
I ate at…I dunno…5 maybe? And I ate plenty. But I never stopped being hungry. I never stopped wanting just a little more. It’s almost 10pm now and I’m wrestling my options. I don’t want another night of eating way too late for comfort. But also it’s been five hours since I last ate and the next meal seems too far away if I don’t eat now.
And there it is. Because no matter how reasonable that is, it’s the eating disorder talking. So I’ll just sleep instead. Goodnight Simon.