I spent a big chunk of my morning and early afternoon in a caffeine-induced stupor. It was frustrating and slightly worrisome. I wondered if I had fallen into some kind of a coma? How do you know if you are in a coma? Is a coma like a dream? Are all dreams comas? Why why why do I have to ask so many useless questions in each post? Back to my morning: I tried to be "productive." I tried! I attempted to vacuum, but then something on the front of the vacuum literally flew across the room when I turned it on. So then I just read about a Trappist monk all morning while chewing on ice and trying to shake myself awake. It didn't really work, however, and I still feel like I am stuck between two worlds. Normalcy is all I really want at the moment. How to achieve this? Let me get on Instagram or Twitter or Tumblr. Let me fold laundry and listen to the radio. Let me bake another freakin' loaf of bread and then drink another freakin' cup of herbal tea. These rituals, these mundane tasks, these time wasters bring me back to some sort of familiar, welcomed reality.
Aaaaaand... Maybe I should eat.
I still don't know how to get to a place where food is exciting again. It was exciting almost a week ago after my doctor's appointment. I think it was exciting because I had a doctor practically order me to eat. Maybe I needed someone in that kind of a position give me the permission to eat. Like, "Doctor's orders! Better enjoy this sandwich!" And of course I enjoyed it. I craved it and devoured it and my cells thanked me for it. But then after about a day and a half, the excitement grew thin (pun?) and I was back to my old ways. Old habits die hard, babydolls.
I know I need treatment. I can't change my habits if my body is starving. My brain isn't functioning "correctly," so it's no wonder I am having a difficult time making any significant progress. The physical and mental are so intertwined.
Where can I start tonight? I can start by eating, yes, which I will do, but it might not be for a few more hours. I can eat when I am too exhausted and famished to care. I still care right now. As trite as this may sound, I might begin a Tumblr page with pictures and recipes of food that I crave. That whole obnoxious "foodie" culture inspires me. Reading foodie blogs, watching cooking shows, looking through magazines like Saveur and Bon Appétit really do help. They remind me of what is out there. They remind me what "normal" people eat. And I desire normalcy, remember? I also desire a freaking burrito. I desire to be a part of the crowd, you know? I am bored with being the chronic outsider, wandering around hungry and cold. More bone marrow soup, less jutting hipbones. More fast food, less fasts. More octopus, less octopus. Sorry, I draw the line somewhere. No octopus. (Although I hear it's good... I hear and maybe one day I'll build up the courage to know for myself.)
This is no time for me to be vegetarian. One day I may go back to my more animal-friendly ways, but for now I need to release myself from my own prison and just have at it. I need to smell and taste and experience every and anything I've denied myself for over 20 years.
But just eating one banana is like climbing Everest for me. I need a Sherpa. I need better hiking boots. I need an oxygen tank. Moving from anorexia into excellent health is not achieved by looking at a few food blogs, although that helps. I need more resources. I need to reach out. (These difficult posts are, in fact, me reaching out. As embarrassed as I am by admitting all of this on the Internet, I am proud that I am doing so. It's a step.)
I need to give up control to gain control.