Worth fighting for

Yesterday was an all out war to eat. The day before I exercised and didn’t eat to cover it, so it set off a momentum of wanting to lose, wanting to restrict, doubting I could ever pull myself out of this eating thing and perhaps if I could prevent it from killing me.

But, in the afternoon my friend asked if the fight wasn’t really about food at all, but about ‘is my life worth fighting for?’. And the answer to that question is, I don’t think so. And I don’t truly believe others think so, I but I can work on trying to believe that. Like my nephews, whom I adore. I am beginning to realize, through their actions, how profoundly my recent move affected them and therefore how important I am to them. Maybe they would agree, if they could understand. I am the closest thing to stability they have and I’d hate to become unstable. Eat for the boys. I could try to eat for the boys. I could try to fight for the boys.

So, I ended the day just at my goal. It didn’t make up for Saturday. It maybe didn’t quite cover 3 loads of laundry (at 4 flights of stairs down to the laundry room then back up). But I hit my goal and part of me was actually ok with it. I don’t want to disappear into this thing.

I am beginning to realize just how profoundly this is affecting me. I’m isolated. I don’t want to go out to eat with my friends and have the questions of why I’m not eating. I don’t want to hang out late because I am trying to eat enough to sustain myself and the only food I will eat is the food at my apartment that I have measured and cooked, and if I get home too late I won’t eat it, so I come home early. I have few thoughts outside food and weight, I can’t concentrate and keep up at work. It’s destroying me.

So I’m going to try. I’m going to get back up to trying to eat more. Trying to beat it. Is my life worth fighting for? We’ll see