Confession time. (...and ED trigger warning from this point on...)
I feel like an epic fail.
But if I can't be honest with all y'all, there's no point in this blog, right?
I have stopped eating again.
This built up over time, I guess. The Sunday after Thanksgiving, I woke up suicidally depressed for no reason (that I could think of), and I have ridden a roller coaster of mucky emotions since then. That whole week, I got more and more cranky and depressed until it came to a head on that Friday, at which time I went home to my apartment and tore down all of my Christmas decorations, throwing most of them into the bin.
This used to be my favourite time of year. I LIVE for Christmas.
I couldn't let the depression take over again. I can't go back to that--living every day like a zombie, hating everything, spending most of my time contemplating different ways to end my life. It was a f*cking nightmare and I'm not doing it again.
Not eating stops the extreme depression.
It's a different demon this time, though. I still haven't weighed myself, so I have no clue how much weight I've lost. I know I've lost weight, though. My bones are starting to stick out and my size 0 jeans are baggy.
My boobs are gone. It's very sad.
I try to eat, but I just ........can't. Went out to dinner with M. last night to the Texas Roadhouse--which I love and which has delicious food--and I ate maybe 5 little pieces of onion blossom, and like 2 bites of my steak. I felt really guilty, too, because M. (we've shared ED's for years) has been doing really well, but last night he hardly ate anything and I feel like it's because I wasn't eating. (He did eat later; we had some smokey treats and then he ate all the leftovers.)
Stepmom keeps inviting me over for dinner and I keep making excuses, but now today is Dad's birthday so I know I can't blow her off this week, and so I'm terrified.
Mumsy wants me to go out to dinner one night this week, and I'm twice as terrified of that. I can get away with not eating in front of Stepmom (and Dad's not an issue because he's totally oblivious to anything I say and do), but Mumsy knows all my tricks. She's also psychic, and according to Lil Sis, has been secretly monitoring my weight every time she sees me because she "has a feeling" something is wrong.
I don't want help. (Not that I could afford it even if I did want help...) To start eating again, you need to want to do it. And I don't. I'm just not hungry. Not for food, at least.
I just don't know.