when i said i was bad at keeping projects going, i wasn’t kidding. the problem, i think, stems from the fact that i just don’t know what to say. everything that i’ve experienced, i’ve experienced. that is to say, it’s old hat and unlikely to be of any interest.
when i began my initial recovery back in june 2009, i had just started a new job working nights at petsmart. i was also moving into a new apartment that, to be honest, was only a mile and a half closer to work; it was a 14-mile drive one-way, though, so the move really didn’t make any difference. i just wanted a change of pace. over the next year, i would come to hate that apartment and view it as a cage. maybe i was projecting my own unhappiness into my living space, i don’t know.
anyway, on moving day my family came to help me, so that i wouldn’t have to rent a truck or anything. and one thing that a few of them noticed was that i had a lot of food in my apartment.
to give some back story, i’d been laid off 3 months earlier from borders, and had taken to buying food in bulk as much as i could. i also bought a lot of vegetables, especially carrots, and to this day i still feel a little weird about eating raw carrots….. cereal was one of the only treats i allowed myself (eaten with about a tablespoon of powdered milk to roughly ¾ gallon of water and some sweet’n’low every morning). so when cereal went on sale (10 for $10!), i stocked up! but my grampa was amazed.
“who are you feeding?” because obviously, it wasn’t me.
there’s a sort of…..primitive eating style i adopted when in the midst of starvation. you’d think i’d never been taught basic table manners at all. i ate with my fingers, i slurped my “soup” (hot water with salt and spices). most embarrassingly, i think, is that i ate food scraps. like, stems and peels—the kind of thing you throw away. i don’t know why—sure, i’d been laid off and needed to watch my money, but really…..
i was mortified to eat around people, and would become angry to the point of hostility if my food rituals were compromised or observed in any way.
i still feel ashamed about all that. i feel ashamed about the way i behaved. i just didn’t want anyone to know—chalk it up to the anorexic mentality, which is a mental health issue as much as it is a physical one.
i guess that’s all i’ve got for now.
more coming sooner rather than later, i hope.