Monday, December 19, 2011


I'm physically and emotionally exhausted.  I know that the insanity will only end with rest, nutrition, fluids, and love.  But then why do I chose to force myself to stay awake?  To deprive myself of food?  To let the self thoughts, the faceless voice, keep screaming at me the hatred chant of unworthiness.

Sanity is daunting for me.  I'm too exhausted with my mental illness(es) to get better.  What kind of a shitty excuse is that?  I spent the evening with my oldest daughter and my youngest daughter tonight.  It was at the dinner table tonight that I realized I am not in control any longer.  She is.  The ED is.  It took everything I have in me, all of the strength that an exhausted, insane person has to sit down at the table to a plate of food.

Dinner Details:

  • Put food on everyone else's plates first, of course - I'm the mom!
  • Next cut the pre-schooler's food, of course - she is four!
  • Oh I forgot the potatoes in the oven, jump up and get those!
  • Darn - forgot the drinks....
  • Mmmmmm I think this corn needs buttered....
  • Did you need a napkin????
  • I'm just going to throw some cookies in the oven NOW so they will be done for dessert time....
  • Okay, guess I'll put food on my plate now, but not a lot, but enough so people don't say stupid shit like, "Is that ALL you are eating?" but not so much that I feel like overwhelmed that I am going to eat too much (I'm not even HUNGRY for fuck's sake - I shouldn't be eating).
It was pretty much a combination of exhausting (notice a thematic element to my writing?) and embarrassing because I'm sure the teen noticed and was like what the fuck MOM, sit down and EAT.  And I'm trying to convince my disordered mind that even though I probably ate what a "normal" person would "normally" eat... I did NOT binge... even thought I layed on the couch all evening feeling like a fat lazy fucker.  I just cannot convince myself of this. 

To end this piece of shit on a positive word, my mail order prescription company finally got their heads outta their (insert preferred hole here) and my antidepressant showed up.  Thank the sweet baby Jesus.

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