As you were.

I thought,
"I'm going to black out. Here, in the middle of traffic, at 70mph, with a semi on one side, two loaded pick ups in front of me, and a line of cars on the other side, and even more behind me...I'm gonna black out. Or I'm going to get cut off, and my response time won't work. Oh fuck me...."


...I didn't, obviously.
But it's the second time in as many days that I've felt it. That...sensation...where you've eaten too much to faint...but not enough to feel right. You're on that brink.


Which...is odd. It's not like I've eaten that little.
I'm not sure what my calorie intake was yesterday, but I had a minibinge before bed. I think I got up to about 1000 or 1100. And since I'm not working out, that's disgusting.
My aim is 900, because that tends to be the range when...well...I can avoid binging, get results, and still maintain some sort of nutritional levels. Plus, it gives me a greater option to vary my different foods, while taking away some of the anxiety of that choice. It's hard to explain. (I get panicked by having to make food choices sometimes....)


900, albeit still under requirements, is typically high enough to avoid such sensations as this, as during my whole 600 calories for 6 months thing, I never passed out unless I was physically ill or there was some other sort of external motivator (read: infection wherein I was caught by old lady a few posts back--yaaaaay humiliation!).
I think the cause now is that I'm trying those Mega-T Green Tea pills.

Oh, they work fantastic...if you take them on an empty stomach.

Lemme tell you...nausea? Best. Appetite. Killer. Ever.





My whole body aches from them.
I wound up at a stop light, literally writhing. Clutching at my skin. Rubbing my arms. Pulling my hair. My face felt twisted up, the muscles between my shoulder blades were knotted, my neck was tight.... It's the strangest thing, and I felt like that before I took it, but it just...exacerbated it. I think...I had forgotten what this hungry sensation was like. Not the in-the-stomach hungry. But the body-screaming, muscles-aching-and-clenching, brain-groggy hunger that happens after your belly has growled so much that its lost its voice and gone silent.

My world spins as I sit here.
My neck aches.

But I don't want food.




I reached a new high.
Not really.
But new high for this time period.
131.6lbs. Talk about near breakdown.
I slammed the breaks on the food.

128.4 this morning.

This feeling is something I had forgotten. Something I'm more sensitive to. It was easier when I started, because I didn't know what this feeling meant or how it could be relieved. Now that I know its hunger, and that food can make me feel better, it's like there's the whole mental thing going on. That whole psychological side of it trying to draw out what's left of reason saying, "Just have something, anything. Just EAT."
But reason replies very calmly, "...and then you won't stop."






I got turned down on a loan for the treatment center.
I think that's what pushed me back into starvation.
I had been banking on help.
Banking on something.
I thought they could show me how to eat without going full out COED.
But then I got the call... "The best we can do is defer payments until after treatment, and then you'd be charged $637/month for three years...."


....I think a huge part of me--fuck that, who am I kidding? A majority of me--was incredibly relieved. It meant I didn't need to go back there, where people I didn't know would pry into my mind, control what I ate, and force change. Change is terrifying. I could return to my security. To my control. I could go back to changing the rest of my life outside of me and be okay with it while I held tight to the familiarity and security of this sweet, succulent, swirling emptiness--this miasma of sensation, starvation, and ultimate salvation--and be safe from the prying eyes of others, and the questions of "Why are you going to so often to therapy?"
The disease is more readily hidden than the cure.

...the rest of me--the minority, the non-majority, the part that had driven me to make that call to begin with--wasn't disappointed. Wasn't angry. Wasn't stressed.
The rest of me was just...defeated.
Utterly defeated.



I feel like part of me has died.
Like I'm nearing some strange rock bottom of emotion.
Sometimes I'm in control, guiding my way along the currents of this hellish tornado that is my life and mind, and other times...other times I'm being thrown around, grasping to find that current to carry me smoothly once again....




There is nothing glamorous or beautiful about this.
I never thought I'd so relate to the words, "If I eat one thing, I'll eat everything, so I just eat nothing at all" until that day I was told, "We won't touch you if you're broke. You're not good enough for help if you don't have money."



I've always been told that.
Que sera, sera, I suppose.