Saturday, October 30, 2010
"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions."
~ Hamlet (ah...somewhere at the back)
Ugh. I am not having a very good weekend.
The ‘rents are out of town. That was downfall number one, methinks. Finding that pro Ana site on Thursday night was prolly downfall number two. Her words kept reverberating in my head, the same as mine and Physio's: I don’t want to get better.
I threw up my food again the next morning, while on break from the hop-sital.
When I got home last night, Friday night, I ate my planned dinner, and put up the good fight of trying to stop eating there. It wasn’t going all that well, so I did my usual trick of lying down on my Old Maid's bed and passing out.
Well! I dunno if it’s cuz I forgot to take my meds at lunch time that day, or if it’s cuz I have been burning the candle at both ends all week, but with no parents around to annoy me, I slept on and off for about 21 hours. I got up around 3 this afternoon, only to binge and purge again.
Fuck! I am supremely annoyed right now. I wish I hadn’t found that pro Ana site, but then that shit is going to happen all the time, there’s nothing I can do about it, I need to learn how to deal with it.
Looks like I haven’t learn SHIT yet, though.
I haven’t called Celia yet. She’s gonna have my ass on a spike.
Actually, I haven’t called anyone yet, in about three days. I didn’t show up at the wildlife reserve today either, or even call to say I wasn’t coming. In my defense, though, I was still sound asleep.
I am regressing. I don’t know why.
I don’t want to be Lindsey-fucking-Lohan anymore, remember?
Er...I can't remember now. You're fucking me up, shut up.
I want to be THIN, I know that much. Remember? Hey? Hey?
I know! I’m trying to figure something out, okay? Shut the fuck UP.
I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I feel like I want my eating disorder back.
THAT can’t be good.
On a cheerier note, I thought I’d share an assignment I had to do at treatment this week. We were supposed to write out a conversation between our mind and our body. There wasn’t much of a format to follow, and the suggested guidelines included stuff like ‘what does your body need from your mind’ and other noxious guff like that, so of course I just ran with it. Thank God we didn't have to read them out loud.
A Dialogue Between My Mind And Body
Body: Nuttin’. You?
Body:So...what you want, then?
Mind: Wanna talk to you.
Body: Bout what?
Mind: What you need from me, Body? You know, to get better?
Body: I dunno. I guess I need you to stop telling me to throw up and do drugs.
Mind: I’ve already done that, Einstein.
Body: Yeah, for ten whole days. Yippee.
Mind: Gotta start somewhere.
Body: True. Just don’t flake out on me again, k?
Mind: K. What else?
Body: Stop telling me I’m ugly.
Mind: But you are ugly.
Body: You just did it again.
Mind: Did what?
Body: Told me I’m ugly.
Mind: But you are ugly.
Body: Stop that!
Mind: (sighs) Fine. What else?
Body: I need you to let me eat on a regular basis.
Mind: Done and done!
Mind: Ah, here we go with your big butt...
Body: You can’t just tell me to keep eating and eating and eating, cuz you and I both know that eventually, it’s gonna lead back to purging.
Mind: (innocently) Really?
Body: Yes, asshole, really.
Mind: But if I don’t make you purge, you’ll get fat, and I’ll hate you. Well, hate you more.
Body: Actually, if I don’t purge, we’re both gonna get better, and maybe one day we won’t hate each other so much, and I’ll invite you to my daughter’s bat mitzvah.
Mind: Oy vey! You’re Jewish?
Mind: So am I!
Both: Mazel tov!
Mind: Dude, I am so sorry, I totally thought you were a gentile, what with your accent and all. Plus, I don’t have any eyes...
Body: Consider it history.
Mind: But I tried to use you to stage a one-man re-enactment of Camp Auschwitz: The Blonder Years.
Body: Yeah, I know. But you thought I was the enemy...
Mind: Indeed, I did.
Body: Well. What do we do now?
Mind: Hmmm. I guess we should prolly find a way to work together. Any ideas?
Body: Um...okay. Firstly, how bout we agree to stop hating each other so much?
Mind: Ah, it’s worth a try.
Body: And maybe we could try fighting together, for the same cause.
Mind: Breast Cancer?
Body: No, Dr. Nobel, saving Kage’s life. How did you ever become the mind, by the way?
Mind: I knew the right people.
Body: Anyway, we save Kage's life by saving ourselves. My body, your mind, instead of both of us actively working to keep her sick.
Mind. Ugh. That sounds exhausting.
Body: Aren’t you ready for a change?
Mind: No. To change would mean to make an effort.
Body: Dude! If we don’t change? I give us six months, MAX, before we drive this fucking train wreck into the goddamn ground for good.
Mind: You are such a drama queen! You aren’t by chance a Jewish woman, are you?
Body: Actually, I’m a Jewish mother.
Mind: Oy vey! I'll change, I’ll change!
Posted by Victoria Kage Beckons at 7:29 PM