Today has been a hard day. I feel like I am barely here, constantly fighting myself. Food has been very minimal, and physically I don’t think I am doing particularly well.
It’s difficult to hide weight loss when someone sees you naked. When you are intimately together and they suddenly say “you are about half the size you were..” Unsure if it was an accusation or a compliment, I said “I’m almost where I used to be.” (When? When you were thin, thinner, underweight? What ‘used to be’ are you referring to? Who the fuck knows.) I realized it may be more of an accusation when he responded with “well, you can’t be planning on losing much more”. As though it were a fact not to be disputed. I agreed, because that’s what you do when you don’t want to talk about it anymore.
I am failing at nourishment. I am failing at health. I am failing. Only the bones that I can now feel when I press my fingers against my chest are well deserved. Not a reward, not a punishment, just the reality of where I need to be right now. Like I can’t sit with my pain in any other way. There is a calm that comes with having complete control over yourself and your body that doesn’t exist elsewhere. Only I know it’s a lie.
Little Talks 