So. My body showed you, hey Gloria. Could you just give me a break, please?
Here I am today, even more tired than yesterday. On Tony’s orders to stay in bed except for trips to the toilet. And still that voice warns of consequences of eating. Prompts me to restrict. Tells me to exercise. Hates my body for being a traitor to her ideals.
I am so weak. I had to sit down in the shower. And fell asleep as soon as I was dry and dressed. Everything takes so much more effort, and exhausts me so quickly. And I have done it to myself by believing I’m not causing any harm.
I thought I was doing ok. I had increased my food intake. I didn’t slow down though. My busy day on Wednesday was too much after a busy day on Tuesday.
I don’t really want to write about what happened. But I promised the good and the bad.
I knew I was getting really tired and that I needed to eat (huge step forward for me) so I popped into the supermarket after picking the kids up from school. I had a craving for chips (!) and thought I’d stick it to Gloria and get some. But I got to that aisle in Woolworths and just ran out of steam. I couldn’t walk any more. I was holding on to the shelves falling asleep, when a lady stopped and asked if I was alright. To which I shook my head. She offered to get me a chair and I nodded. I sat down and then my body just shut down, except for my head. I couldn’t move. (This has happened twice before. And each time I said it wouldn’t happen again.) I had left the kids in the car (yes, yes, I know, but they’re nine and seven and I don’t breed idiots) so this lovely lady went and got them for me. But I had left my phone at home and do you think I could remember Tony’s number? Good thing my sister has had the same number for 10 years and I could remember that. And she just happened to be two streets away and arrived very soon. I had refused the staff’s offer of calling an ambulance. Tony’s done that once before. And I knew I just needed rehydration and rest. My sister carried me out to her car, kids following, and drove me home. Where Tony had to carry me in to bed. Where I slowly woke up. One side and limb at a time.
I want to thank Martina for her help. I want to thank my sister, Laura, and apologise for it happening again. And thank you Tony. I’m so sorry. I can see what this does to you. You are so good. I do want to fight this. I love you. And Phoebe and Tim, you seriously are the best kids a mum could ask for. You guys show me that somewhere I must have got something right, and I have to keep fighting so I can be the wife and mother you deserve. So that I can be Hannah. Fulfilled and free. As God made me.
Gloria is not me.