Don’t Say ‘Cheese’

I am really struggling. The anxiety and guilt and the white noise are constant.

Yesterday was an especially difficult day. Slept in and didn’t pray and pledge before I got up. Skipped my morning snack altogether. Tried to hide my cheese at lunch. I won’t tell you where I put it, but Tony caught me. Gloria has a real problem with cheese. And trail mix.

Yesterday, I was in a dark place again. I mean I really wanted to hurt myself. Simply because I do NOT want to eat any more. I am sick of having to fight every second of every day with this voice. And having to deal with the self-condemnation when I do fight back and eat.

But you know what? I am still fighting. Somewhere I know that eventually I will win as long as I don’t give up. I don’t get to have a day off. It doesn’t work that way.

And Gloria isn’t like some sitcom bully. She doesn’t run off scared because I stand up to her. The more I fight, the louder, more insistent, ugly and frightening she becomes. I’ve been promised that as I keep resisting and feeding my starving body and brain the voice and impulses will lessen. I just wish it would come soon. I just wish I weren’t so terrified of the medicine. I just wish that I could help people understand what it’s really like in here. Knowing that food is the answer and also just as completely sure that if you eat it you will be an utter failure as a human being, for losing control. That to admit to such ‘supreme weakness’ (ie needing food to live) you are pathetic beyond belief. The self-disgust at eating, the loathing of fat on one’s body, the goal of ‘just one more kilo’ to perfection and self-satisfaction that never comes. The very irrational desire to be free of this fat and flesh cage, and to cause as much damage as possible on the way out.

I am safe at the moment. Again. Tony has been amazing through all this. He helps me to fight. He knows that:

Gloria is not me.

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