of addiction

Hello again.

It's been a while.

To be honest, I've been so bad lately I couldn't bear facing the cold hard facts. I've been so weak lately. No control. My eating has been all over the place. It's been so frustrating.

I watched the movie Flight with some friends over the weekend. It was just alright in my humble opinion, but it will stick with me for a long time. Not because of the acting or the directing or even the story really, but because of one single scene.

The main character is an alcoholic and he's looking at this mini fridge full of alcohol. For a while, he just looks. He's just looking. Then he pulls out a little bottle of vodka and unscrews it, no nonsense, like he's going to drink it. He lifts it up, smells it, and then he stops again. He sits there for a few more seconds. Then he abruptly screws the lid back on and places it firmly on the counter. The clock ticks by for about five seconds, and then he loses all self-control.

I have done that exact same dance in front of the fridge with food so many times.

I'm hungry. I'm not going to eat. I'm not going to eat. Maybe I'll just open the fridge. I'm not going to eat, I'm just looking. That chicken looks good, but I'm not going to eat it. Maybe I'll just pick it up and open the container. Maybe I'll just eat some. I'll just eat a little. Just a piece. I'll just eat one piece. It smells really good. One piece is ok. It's just one. I'll just put this piece in my mouth. Just this one piece...

No. No. I'm NOT going to eat. I'm not. Put it back. Put it down. Close the door, walk away. Good. That's good...

Wait, what are you doing? You haven't even left the kitchen yet and you're already turning around? No! Stop it. Close the fridge. Close it. Do NOT put that piece of chicken in your mouth. I'm serious! Don't do it! Don't...

You are so fucking weak. 

No, you know what? Fuck it. Grab another piece. In fact, what else looks good? Cereal? Bread? Peanut butter? Tomatoes? Apples? Leftover pasta? Crackers? Sure, why not? Go ahead, eat all of that shit. If we're fucking doing this, let's fucking do it you worthless piece of shit.

I still haven't purged. I came close the last couple days, but I just couldn't do it. Throwing up gives me just as much anxiety as eating. Which makes things rather complicated. Well, it makes them simple. I just need to not eat. That's just been a rather difficult rule to follow lately.

Here's some good news.

I finally bought new jeans this weekend. And found out that I am now 4 pants sizes smaller than I used to be!

That felt damn good.

For the first time in a long time, I had fun shopping this weekend. It was one of those shopping excursions where everything you try on looks awesome and fits perfectly. And my sister was with me and she kept telling me that I looked really good and skinny. And I believed her. I felt really good and skinny.