Nothing, I want nothing. Holy moley !

A couple of you wondered what I wanted you to do with your tarot cards--ANYTHING. Paint it, decorate it crayon/pastel/coloured pencil, make a collage on it, cover it in glitter, cut it into tiny pieces and put it back together again. Anything you can think of to make it a little piece of yourself. 


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


I'm having a very difficult time getting back into the rhythm of starving that I had enjoyed before the holidays. 'Tis a combination of factors, I think:

- I went too long eating lots of junk, so now my digestive system is putting up a fight when I try to starve.

- The result of my carb-restriction is that when I do have something carb-y (even just a tiny something), my body goes into Carbohydrate-Annihilation-Mode, and there is nothing I can do to stop the consumption of every carbohydrate that isn't nailed down.

- I'm out of drugs vitamins again. 

- Like seriously, who the f**k do I have to maim to find a competent drug vitamin dealer?!!?

- I feel an irresistible urge to fast usually starting Mondays. Fasting leads to binging every time. You'd think I'd learn.

But there is a more important issue that I must address: my disordered eating affects my writing. 

I know many of you have gone through something similar--a few of you have written about it on your blogs, how the starving and binging and everything else befuddles our brains. It gets hard to concentrate, to think clearly about anything other than food and calories, and especially to think creatively. And I NEED to think creatively in order to write. 

So it comes to this: the pattern that I've been in for a long time--fast, starve, binge, fast, starve, binge, repeat, repeat, repeat--has really started to affect my writing. As in my brain turns to sludge a lot of the time, and so I can't write as effectively. My writing is my life. Without stories to write, I have nothing. 

But at the same time, starving has become my life as well. And at the same time, I feel like if I don't have starvation--if I don't have THIN--then I have nothing. Is it possible to balance the two? I'm not so sure it is. To quote a great author, I'd say neither can live while the other survives. 

So what do I do?

The obvious answer would be try and stop the eating disorder. But it's not that easy, obviously. I've thought about it. I've done a few half-assed jobs trying to give it up. But the result is always the same. I cannot eat normally--I binge when I try. And then I feel disgusting. AWFUL. The kind of awful that only you, my lovely readers, can understand--the kind of hellish disgustipation that makes you want to rip your skin off, flay yourself alive to get at the bones underneath. It's unbearable. It's why I have returned--after six whole years of sobriety--to self harm.  

So although I know it is not the best answer, I must find a way to balance the two. I'm not sure how, just yet. But I have to try.

I weighed myself on Sunday. 

o.O

 I weighed myself again Wednesday, and this morning. I fail to see how I can still be at the same weight as I was on Sunday (one pound HEAVIER than Wednesday) when I have not eaten anything besides coffee and V8 all week, and have been exercising like a crazy person. Sure I messed up slightly on Thursday, but it wasn't even a binge, and I did extra working out to destroy it. 

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So of course now I'm climbing the walls in anxiety because I'm a fat pig. And the stronger part of my brain is demanding that I simply not eat. At all. Coffee, tea, and V8--and that's only when I start getting faint. 

This is a bad idea. It's pretty high up on the List of Really Bad Ideas, I think. Somewhere around things like playing with fire,

invading Russia in winter,

and consuming dairy before bed.

But I'm actually afraid to eat. Afraid, because my scale says I weigh over 100 pounds. 

A GROWN WOMAN, scared to death of consuming food. Because 'tis far easier to just have nothing than to have a little bite of something like turkey bacon or a Lean Cuisine. 'Cause after that bite, I will just want more, and more, and MORE AND MORE AND MORE until I've eaten everything in the house.

And that absolutely cannot happen. 

And perhaps what disturbs me most is that this time last year, 104 lbs seemed like a low number.