No alarms and no surprises

* Trigger warning: contains talk of calorie amounts and eating disorders. 

I’m not entirely sure what happened this weekend. Something inside me doesn’t want to write about it, but I’m aware that I rarely talk about my weekends; by the time I get home from S’s house I’m exhausted and it sort of slips away until it feels too late to describe the days.

I’m aware that while I’m writing so much, I’m neglecting other blogs, and that makes me feel guilty. It’s very much all about give and take for me, and knowing I’m taking all this support and not giving anything back… it’s uncomfortable for me. I apologise; things have become a little difficult and writing feels like my only outlet.

Food. Food is an issue. Today I ate a whole low fat banana loaf and some vegetarian sausages and beans on wholemeal toast. Around 1000 calories. Yesterday… maybe around the same; I didn’t count. The past week… around 300-400 calories a day. Sugar-free squash and strong coffee and taking anti-inflammatories on an empty stomach. By Friday I was flaring heavily and dizzy from lack of food. A good dizzy. Confirmation that I’ve restricted enough calories. My stomach was rolling and, despite being almost empty, cramping like crazy. I spent most of Friday afternoon on the toilet.

So really, I do know what happened. The flare combined with restricting; not forgetting regular joints and a bit of alcohol… it all brought me down. S doesn’t have much money right now – it’s getting close to payday – so I packed two big bags of food from the cupboards and fridge. I’d bought a cherry pie and ice cream, thinking that we could snuggle up together in front of a film and I’d feel safe enough to eat. I baked the pie; baked it at 11pm and we watched Andy Kaufman’s standup on Youtube. I couldn’t eat it. I tried; I really did. I wanted to. However much I attempted to swallow though, the pie just became bigger and bigger in my mouth. It tasted of nothing. All I saw in the bright red sauce and cherries was calorie upon calorie. I ate perhaps three small spoonfuls, then gave up. I’d only had a tiny slice. A 16th of the pie, S said.

I tried chocolate Philadelphia on walnut bread. Two small slices later, I felt horribly full and self-aware. Coffee with almond milk became a big no-no once I started thinking, “nuts have fat in…”. I told S that I was feeling ill and that’s why I wasn’t eating. It wasn’t exactly a lie; I felt downright bloody awful.

Saturday, and the weather was lovely. I spend it indoors, either sleeping or reading. I couldn’t face daylight. Cooked pasta and again, couldn’t eat it. S said it was lovely – I’d cheated and used ready-made sauce, but had chopped up some onions and garlic to add to it – but I just couldn’t taste anything. It was like eating cardboard.

I slept a lot, sweating buckets all over S’s mattress. Occasionally he’d wake me with a kiss or a nuzzle, and give me a cuddle. For the first time, well, since we met really, we didn’t have sex once on Saturday or Sunday. I just couldn’t feel anything. Couldn’t find the energy. S didn’t mention it, which is a comfort. Since O left, I worry that the man I love will walk away because I can’t always manage to perform. S… it just didn’t seem to be an issue with him. I’m very lucky; I know that.

He treated me like a princess. Fluffed my pillows and tucked me in with a kiss on the forehead. Didn’t tease me about my hairy, unshaven legs. Helped me over the back step when we went out for a smoke. Didn’t pressure me to go to a party we were both invited to, and came back in the time he said he would, giving me a big kiss and telling me about how much I’d have hated to be there anyway.

We talked a lot about the new flat. The bathroom’s been done; there’s a large corner shower apparently, and they’re doing the kitchen now. We’re getting an oven, fridge/freezer and washing machine. New cream deep-pile carpets. S has a huge leather sofa with a chaise longue. A chaise longue! We’re going to get a Rasperry Pi and set it up as a server for all our music, and have Age Of Empires battles.

We’ll be moving in soon. Around two or three weeks from now.

I’m hoping a lot will change once S and live together. He grounds me. Keeps me balanced.

I came back home on Sunday night, shuffling into a taxi and clinging onto my new phone like crazy so I could have some connection to S. My mobile broke a while ago – the camera stopped working and then the touch screen – and on Thursday I spilled a full cup of coffee on it, destroying the poor thing entirely. I spilled a lot of coffee that day. I’ve been knocking drinks over like crazy for a couple of weeks now.

An acquaintance (I’d say friend, but you know the issues I have with that word) offered me a Samsung Ch@t for free, and dropped it off at S’s house on Friday night. I can’t help but mistrust this person, like I do pretty much everyone else, but it was a kind thing to do. I hate the name of the thing – Ch@t, for god’s sake – but it’s a cool little thing and has a QWERTY keyboard, meaning I can send texts comfortably again. Touch screens made my fingers ache.

Didn’t sleep on Sunday night. I missed S too much. When I’m feeling like this – down, but not depressed – all I want is to cuddle up next to him and feel his arm around me. When we sleep, he wraps his whole body around me sometimes. We’re always touching in some way, and we usually wake up holding hands. It sounds unreal, and part of me is still convinced it is. I just wish I could get my brain in order; I can see a future with this guy.

And I don’t think that’s the BPD talking.


  1. Eat, dear. Make some delicious broth with rice. As for the rest, I’m glad that S. makes you feel better. Hubs does the same for me. It’s nice to have someone around to keep me grounded, and I’m sure you feel the same way. Breathe through it. It will get better soon.


  2. You are doing so well honest you are. Spending weekends with s brilliant telling us about your what you are eating that shows you know what you’re doing. Chin up chick you are doing great and you have so much to look forward to. Hugs xx


  3. Being aware of what you’re doing – and being honest with yourself about it is really terrific, and though it may be a stretch for you to pat yourself on the back, I will until you feel so inclined. :-) You know this is a marathon my dear one, not a sprint. And you are on the path – honestly you are. I’m thrilled that S makes you feel so secure and loved. It’s a wonderful relationship…


  4. Love from the rocky coast of Maine. I read that you don’t feel like you are returning any of the support you are getting. I can tell you, that’s not true. I gain perspective, and learn something new about myself, every time I read your posts, or your comments. You said something the other day — you are not a weakling, you are a survivor. In the same way, you aren’t just taking. You are not a fake — I find your posts and comments sincere, and full of deep insight into the problems for a person with a mental health issue. I value your blog. A lot! 8-)


  5. Silent reader here piping up to say thinking of you – and sending hugs. You remind me of the days during my own sick times when I was just. so. tired. Too tired to even open my eyes, to breathe, to BE. And it’s a horrible feeling. I think there’s a huge amount of depression lumped in with the starvation there and just everything building up from the long fight that never ends.. it’s just too much. And you just want to sleep forever, for it all to be over. At least that’s how I felt. I hope so much you feel a bit better soon and I’m so glad you have moving into your own place to finally look forward to. Hang in there xx


  6. Please don’t feel you have to read my blog. My god, do you really give a shit about my bathroom reno!? You have more pressing things to do and more intelligent reading! Don’t worry about my blog!
    Ok, so you didn’t feel like eating cherry pie. You have the rest of your life to eat cherry pie. And you baked it!? Wow, does S realize what a lucky guy he is that he has a girl that knows how to cook!!? He’s just a lucky guy, period, to have you!


  7. The clumsiness is probably related to the lack of food but I guess you know that…

    Food tasting like dust and being unable to swallow is something I’ve experience of. I suppose I’m lucky; it’s only happened a few times and never for very long. What would be luckier would be to be one of those people who’s never experienced that feeling.

    Praying for you, sweetheart. Xxx


  8. I’ve been going through the food thing at the moment too though trying to stop it getting out of hand… Sucks really. I mean I started when I was 13 or something and it’s still there in my head all the time. What’s that all about??! I think you can safely see that as a rhetorical question lol.


  9. I ended up on this blog instead of your poetry blog and so appreciate the courage of your writing and your honesty. You may not feel like you’re giving but just do what you can and you may be surprised at the unknown effect you will have on others. I’ve had a past issue with food as well and attended a 12-Step program for a while. It is such a hard thing to work with. It’s not like alcohol, in that you can’t just completely stop eating. So, one day at a time. And I hope your relationship with S is right and perfect for both of you.


  10. You are absolutely beautiful the way you are every minute — with or without “S.”

    Thank you for sharing your heart, I think we all can relate especially women, to weight and calorie issues.

    Love yourself NOW. You are perfect and made of light.


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