Personal confessions.
Over my lifetime, I have kept my equilibrium and maintained a steadying control to manage my eating disorder. I don’t think anyone in this entire world knows I am prone to anorexia. But photos of me in my most anorexic and vulnerable of days don’t lie. It hasn't been a secret. But my disorder has never coincided with my hanging out with anyone who noticed or cared. This is not a tiny violin, woe is me moment. Just a fact.
Wow. I just scrolled through my blog posts and realized I didn’t blog when I tested positive (not good) for colon cancer.
That was November 2019. I told my kids and was able to gauge my importance in their lives. SonABC was devastated. SonXYZ was irritated that I was bothering him with unpleasant news given I hadn’t done further tests. NOTHING TO SEE HERE.
By January SonXYZ proved to be correct. After more testing I am in fact fine and simply in need of fibre. (Dietary fibre, not moral fibre - I have an abundance of the latter). NOTHING TO SEE HERE.
But in the prep to my test, fasting was involved, and I worried it might bring back the eating disorder. I am so careful to keep eating. Apparently it is important.
Fast forward to GLOBAL NOVEL CORONAVIRUS COVID-19 PANDEMIC!!!!
My son has been so shitty to me, and there really is no one else in this self-isolation to prop me up, and he is ALWAYS (fucking) here, and we have no end in sight, and sadly…tragically…my appetite evaporated tonight.
Tonight was the straw, I think, that has broken this camel’s back.
I didn't eat today. The thought of eating make me nauseaus. I am not blaming my son. He was only the trigger. The problem is my underlying mental health problem. I am only manufactured to be strong to a point.
We seem to be past that point.
Later: As with everything. This was just a moment. The moment has passed, and so has my irate disposition.