There are several things going on at once.
It started with me hating the way I look more so than usual. I’ve been around a lot of short people recently and it brings back feelings of self-consciousness, of looking like a hulking, unfeminine, ugly, giant. It doesn’t help that people always point out how tall I am. They act like it’s a good thing and oh they’re so jealous blah, blah, blah. I feel like I tower over everyone (which I do), and I feel like I’m less of a woman than the others that I’m around because I’m so tall. That led to me wanting to be smaller and a desire to stop eating.
I’ve tried starving myself before and it never works. I had to think of another way to make myself not eat. I came upon a brilliant plan to think of it punishment. Aha! It worked. I started to deny myself food and I found that enjoyed the discomfort. I rode that first wave of hunger pains and I knew that once I got past it I could handle it better. At one point I looked at my hand and I noticed my bones. I was fascinated by my bones. It’s weird that I feel like a giant when I’m told how delicate my hands are. I have long fingers that are slim and you can wrap your fingers around my wrists. It doesn’t change how I feel about my body as a whole. As I looked at my hand, I wanted to see more bones. I felt triumphant every hour that I didn’t let myself eat and finally my brain caught up with me and a switch flipped that let me really enjoy the pain in my stomach. I welcomed the shaking that came and I felt good about it. Even while I was doing it, I knew that something was wrong with me. I knew that I shouldn’t be enjoying it but I simply didn’t care. I laughed the longer I went without food and after 2 days and some hours I was feeling really great shaking and feeling light-headed. 2 days was not near enough time though. I had to go to a restaurant with a large group of friends and I said I didn’t want anything to eat and I was so happy when no one questioned it beyond a raised eyebrow. My husband was of course not happy with me doing this. I was riding a wave so high that I smirked when he said I could die. I knew that I wouldn’t die, you can go for a while without food and it was awesome. He then pulled out the “You’re stressing me out a lot because I’m worried about you” card, and I was pissed because he knows that the last thing I want to do, is upset him. That tactic always makes me stop whatever I’m doing. Damn it! He was seriously upset and I don’t do things to hurt him which meant that I had to eat a little to make him calm down. I was so disappointed in myself. Now, I feel like I failed and I have to start over. I went 2 days plus without eating and I know I can do it again. I started over last night and I plan on not eating for as long as possible. I want to see how long I can go. He asked me to promise to eat and I refused because I don’t lie to him. He asked me to promise to try, which I did and I now have to figure out how to do that without eating. I figure that I can truthfully consider eating for a moment and then not let myself.
Creativity is flowing and I’ve got several thousand people reading my little fan fiction. It’s not a lot but at least someone likes it.
I know what this is, I’ve been in similar situations before. When I had my first bipolar breakdown, which we didn’t know at that time was a bipolar breakdown, I went many days without food or sleep and I felt superhuman. I’m not an idiot, I know what’s happening, I simply don’t care.
The other thing is that I’m also living in my fantasy world at every moment that I can. I’m there all day and the second my husband leaves the room I go there. I want to leave this world and live there but I can’t so I have to live in my head. I resent being pulled out of it.
I actually no reason to blog about this but I haven’t written in a while so I figured, why not.