The gods must be crazy
Well, yeah.
My body is starting to do that thing where it refuses to acknowledge food in the stomach regardless of how much food and what kind of food. This morning saw me unhappily using half a roll of toilet tissue and doing that steady breathing where you calm nausea. So I keep getting vicious hunger feelings even after I have eaten. While at CVS picking up prescriptions, I bought a pack of dark chocolate Ensure Plus, because fuck you body. I've been steadily keeping fluids in me, but for some reason it's like, "Nope, there's no food in here. Put food in here!" "Body, I just put a huge bowl of cereal in you not half an hour ago." "No you didn't. There is no food in me."
And I do need to finally acknowledge this. A few days ago, husband came home very late after over twelve hours of work, and I knew he was overly exhausted, frustrated, and irritated in general when he stomped in and yelled at me for having the air on, even though I'd only had it on for less than an hour. And then he asked what I had done for dinner, and when I said, "Nothing yet..." while I was getting ready to get some leftover pasta - and that was when he channeled his mother's extreme guilt trip worst case scenario powers and said, "You know, I'm tired of you starving yourself. You wonder why you keep having seizures and paralysis when you're not eating. And then when you fall apart, I'll make sure to put you in the nicest nursing home I can since I won't be able to stay home to care for you." And I stood there, calmly feeding the fish, and I said, "I am going to pretend you did not say that." And then I said, "Well, I am going to microwave this bowl of pasta, and I am going to take it upstairs, because obviously talking to you is not a thing I can do right now." Later, he acknowledged his extreme dickish behavior and he apologized, but the hurt was still hurting. I can't blame him for guilt tripping me if he forgets he isn't clairvoyant and assumes I haven't been eating. Because I used to do that. And it hurt him and I knew it. We both know how to cut each other deeply because we've known and loved each other since before Y2K. When you love that intensely, you hurt that intensely. But that's okay, because sometimes it really needs to happen especially when you love each other enough to fear such a loss.
Adam often voices his fears as worst case scenarios, in order to make the reality easier to work with. I'm so used to that I often startle myself when I get emotional. I mean, he's Libby's son. My husband's mother is a true master of absolute martyrdom with such extreme guilt tripping that Fox could turn her into a reality show star, and most likely has bipolar disorder. And he's Bernie's son. My husband's father is an extreme genius who once worked for Lyndon B. Johnson's administration doing civilian military top secret engineer jobs that helped change the face of war, defense, food, space travel, and security forever, even if nobody will ever know (selling patents to the Pentagon means never seeing your name mentioned) - and Bernie may have undiagnosed Asperger's.. So Adam is a damaged extreme genius with extreme ADHD, mild precognition, mild clairvoyance, strong clairsentience, and the ability to change the world and get inside people's heads in the most subtle of ways. And I, being my parents' daughter, am a damaged genius in denial with the ability to become a massive force of nature if I must, exploding, destroying, and damaging on emotional and psychic levels that I normally would never reach without effort. My ability to strike below the belt is kind of ninja style, and people often assume that I hate them when I am mildly frustrated and irritated. Together, Adam and I can literally turn the universe upside down for brief moments that nobody will ever know about.
So, indeed, while those words made me bleed like hell, they needed to be said.
However, I really really am not starving myself. It's happening when I don't want it. And I am doing my best to stop it. It's mostly the fibromyalgia and anorexia teaming up. Fucking body, am I right? I don't have IBS, thank fucking gods. But I do have moments. Sometimes I have days. And sometimes it gets bad enough to warrant a nutrition shake every few hours just to keep from losing nutrients. And then it stops. It gets completely better all on its own. I haven't been hospitalized for anything since 2008. I consider myself extremely lucky. But still I am always vigilant...
My body is starting to do that thing where it refuses to acknowledge food in the stomach regardless of how much food and what kind of food. This morning saw me unhappily using half a roll of toilet tissue and doing that steady breathing where you calm nausea. So I keep getting vicious hunger feelings even after I have eaten. While at CVS picking up prescriptions, I bought a pack of dark chocolate Ensure Plus, because fuck you body. I've been steadily keeping fluids in me, but for some reason it's like, "Nope, there's no food in here. Put food in here!" "Body, I just put a huge bowl of cereal in you not half an hour ago." "No you didn't. There is no food in me."
And I do need to finally acknowledge this. A few days ago, husband came home very late after over twelve hours of work, and I knew he was overly exhausted, frustrated, and irritated in general when he stomped in and yelled at me for having the air on, even though I'd only had it on for less than an hour. And then he asked what I had done for dinner, and when I said, "Nothing yet..." while I was getting ready to get some leftover pasta - and that was when he channeled his mother's extreme guilt trip worst case scenario powers and said, "You know, I'm tired of you starving yourself. You wonder why you keep having seizures and paralysis when you're not eating. And then when you fall apart, I'll make sure to put you in the nicest nursing home I can since I won't be able to stay home to care for you." And I stood there, calmly feeding the fish, and I said, "I am going to pretend you did not say that." And then I said, "Well, I am going to microwave this bowl of pasta, and I am going to take it upstairs, because obviously talking to you is not a thing I can do right now." Later, he acknowledged his extreme dickish behavior and he apologized, but the hurt was still hurting. I can't blame him for guilt tripping me if he forgets he isn't clairvoyant and assumes I haven't been eating. Because I used to do that. And it hurt him and I knew it. We both know how to cut each other deeply because we've known and loved each other since before Y2K. When you love that intensely, you hurt that intensely. But that's okay, because sometimes it really needs to happen especially when you love each other enough to fear such a loss.
Adam often voices his fears as worst case scenarios, in order to make the reality easier to work with. I'm so used to that I often startle myself when I get emotional. I mean, he's Libby's son. My husband's mother is a true master of absolute martyrdom with such extreme guilt tripping that Fox could turn her into a reality show star, and most likely has bipolar disorder. And he's Bernie's son. My husband's father is an extreme genius who once worked for Lyndon B. Johnson's administration doing civilian military top secret engineer jobs that helped change the face of war, defense, food, space travel, and security forever, even if nobody will ever know (selling patents to the Pentagon means never seeing your name mentioned) - and Bernie may have undiagnosed Asperger's.. So Adam is a damaged extreme genius with extreme ADHD, mild precognition, mild clairvoyance, strong clairsentience, and the ability to change the world and get inside people's heads in the most subtle of ways. And I, being my parents' daughter, am a damaged genius in denial with the ability to become a massive force of nature if I must, exploding, destroying, and damaging on emotional and psychic levels that I normally would never reach without effort. My ability to strike below the belt is kind of ninja style, and people often assume that I hate them when I am mildly frustrated and irritated. Together, Adam and I can literally turn the universe upside down for brief moments that nobody will ever know about.
So, indeed, while those words made me bleed like hell, they needed to be said.
However, I really really am not starving myself. It's happening when I don't want it. And I am doing my best to stop it. It's mostly the fibromyalgia and anorexia teaming up. Fucking body, am I right? I don't have IBS, thank fucking gods. But I do have moments. Sometimes I have days. And sometimes it gets bad enough to warrant a nutrition shake every few hours just to keep from losing nutrients. And then it stops. It gets completely better all on its own. I haven't been hospitalized for anything since 2008. I consider myself extremely lucky. But still I am always vigilant...