Play your memory like a piper.

I am afraid to eat today. I don’t want to be afraid. I want to feel brave and confident about it. But alas, here I am. Afraid.

My disordered eating has grown exponentially recently. I’ve watched it and felt it and let it. All the safeties I put in place have been no match for all the bigger, heavier things. All the life and history (so much history) and depression and chemical imbalance and anxiety.

It used to be that even when things got overwhelming, I still had a code. That code has gotten blurrier and blurrier over the weeks. With my permission and without. The both and neither of me being me and me being my deteriorating mental health. The dichotomy of taking personal responsibility and also it being completely out of my hands. The subtleties of loving it and loathing it.

But today I haven’t eaten yet. Because I haven’t been hungry yet. Because I have been making the choice, and not because I’m letting the choice make me. And now it’s after noon and I’ve made food and I’m afraid to eat. Because after I eat, it becomes harder to feel like the choice is mine. And I like the control right now. I enjoy not having the overwhelm of insatiable. I miss just feeling normal.

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Icicle icicle, where are you going?

My love’s birthday is Tuesday and we celebrate all week long (as per my request) so we kicked off a pre-birthday weekend with quality time together and Queer as Folk,  and we traded sleep for pleasure and I roasted a duck.

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It was an amazing four days.

And R+S have been home for almost four hours now and the whole thing somehow seems like it was a dream. Back to this part of reality.

Are you the now or never kind?

I’m so proud of my body. It’s an outer reflection of the inner progress I’m making.

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I’ve spent a fair amount of time enjoying the lowkey Thanksgiving break Chris and I have made for ourselves. Tomorrow it’s supposed to snow all day. I’m going to roast a duck for the first time and make some roasted garlic potatoes.

Life remains so good.

A room where it’s nine in the afternoon.

I always pictured having a daughter that I connected with. Somehow I thought we’d defy the norm and hormones and adolescence and we’d have a connection.

I seriously underestimated hormones and adolescence.

There is a connection–don’t get me wrong. It’s probably often our similarities that keep us from being closer. Keep her from being close to me. But then again, it’s the similarities that she, at 14, cannot see that keep her distant. Being a teenager is hard.

One day, given the chance to think of me as a human instead of just her mom, I think she’ll really like me. I mean…she’ll still roll her eyes at my corniness, but deep down I think she’ll like me.

I can picture all that today.

The hardest to learn was the least complicated.

Dinner at its finest.

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This impromptu day of healthy eating was surprisingly easy. I don’t know if all the shit that happened today made it easier or harder, but I appreciate that food did its own thing and I never felt like it was one more hard thing I had to decide on.

I read some stuff from Sarah Rentfro about not having to make the food choices day in and day out and how you already decided and taking away the option of choice made it easier. And I just wanted to say yes yes yes to all of that. She took all the complicated out and I so appreciate that.

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Apart from the choices or non choices of the day, my body is wrecked by the detox. Even with the increase of turmeric and the addition of magnesium, my body is on fire. Best I can do now is sleep.

This holy reality.

I just drove halfway to the store and turned around and drove home. I want the chips or chocolate or <insert thing here>, but not nearly as much as I want to feel healthy and have a healthy relationship with my body and with food.

I don’t want to feel disordered and out of control. I also don’t need to feel “in control” per se. I want an *absence* of feeling out of control and disordered. I don’t want to feel detached from food; I want an absence of feeling attached to it. I want it not even on my radar.

So I turned around and came home. Because if the food’s not here, I give myself the opportunity to practice.

Also, I really fucking need more sleep. This is all so much easier with good sleep. I told Chris last night that lack of sleep makes me want to eat all the everything. It felt really relieving to say it out loud. It was truth and not an accusation. That’s really spectacular progress too. I’m proud of that.