January 31, 2011

Last semester everyone could tell when I was upset because I wouldn’t eat. I’d skip breakfast and lunch, and force down a few bites at dinner, because everyone was watching me. I lost something like twenty-five pounds in about a month and a half. I was always hungry, but eating made me nauseous.

Now I eat constantly. I’ve swung the other direction on the scale of eating weirdness. I’m never hungry. I can’t remember really what hunger feels like.

I remember being able to eat “normally”- you know, eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re full. Eat things you want, things you like. Don’t force down food, and don’t restrict it, either. I don’t have an eating disorder by any means, but I am so, so far from eating like a normal, sane human being. “Disordered eating” is the phrase.

I’m better now than I have been. There were times when I’d refuse to eat unless others were eating too. I was ravenous but I couldn’t eat if anyone was watching me. I can do that now, eat by myself.

I’ve got a long way to go, but at least now I can eat.


first day of classes

January 11, 2011

Today I learned that bacteria caused the Twilight phenomenon.

Which is to say: vampire myths, particularly in America, have their genesis in tuberculosis. Victims of “consumption” grew weak and pale and slowly died, their life drained away. Victims of vampires….grow weak and pale from blood loss and slowly die, their life drained away.

Conclusion from the first session of Biology and Society: we can blame the existence of Twilight on bacteria. It’s as good a target as any. Now all we need are some antibiotics.


January 1, 2011

  • to lean less on my friends and more on myself
  • to actually do the things I actually want to do
  • to do all of my schoolwork and attend all of my classes
  • to wear whatever I want regardless of what people might think

fantasies, innocuous

December 31, 2010

I used to fantasize about shrinking down to a miniaturized me. Alan would carry me around in his pocket, where I would be safe and warm until he wanted me. He could take me out and normal-size me whenever he liked, but I couldn’t do it myself. I would just live in his pocket, happy to do whatever he liked.

Even when I’m not suicidal I fantasize about erasing myself from existence. I see me, some image I hate; I take an eraser and scrub it all away. I just disappear. It’s one of the most comforting imaginings I have. Some people find the idea of a God and an afterlife comforting. I just want to cease to exist, at the end of it all.