You know it is so funny how I, who have never done any sort of drug (pot once or twice, highly overrated) can identify so profoundly with all sorts of addicts. Tyra Banks did a show on suburban heroin\crack addicts, ah, I know those people! You know that feeling when you feel like you've met someone before, (oh where have I seen them before) those four kids they had on, I just swore I've seen them before. Not a physical recognition, just that I know those people, I get it. I get why she can sit there & know it's bad, know it will kill her & go on & do it afterwards. I can sit here & type about oh how bad my fantasy illness is, doesn't mean I'm not going to go back to my bed & do it.

I definitely got when she said that she would marry her crack pipe. yes! yes!
I've seen my eating disorder as my true love, my fantasies, my love, my everything. Together forever. And you know what, I've had that feeling, that understanding & feeling of almost deja vu with "those people" (any addict, drinker, depressive, bipolar, borderline, obsessive-compulsive....) a long while before I got any insight into myself.
I figured because I have been addicted to my world, all along I've been one of "those people."


Saturday was a good day, stable & just very nice. I felt content, but one thing happened that freaked me to no end. I sat down to read my book & sip some water when all of sudden this image just jumped into my head, of me probably about 15 to 20 pounds thinner, (now I have been having some body-image-bad-fat-oh-god issues, but nothing so severe that I would relapse, just a string of a few bad body days, oh and I had just checked myself out in the mirror)
okay.... not something good to think about.
Then I just space out, stare off into space as this plays in my head, I keep getting thinner, sickly so, and not the idealised perfect thin, I mean bad. Sagging face, hollow cheeks, veins protruding, discolored skin, dry thin hair. The image is so clear, I can see my face, my face on what's left of this sick creature, I am looking at my body, poking, prodding, turning, posing like I always have. This would be the very lowest weight that I could possibly be & not be dead.

I start getting scared, it won't get our of my head, this is scary, just "get out! get out of my head!" I have my head in my hands, I keep trying to concentrate on reading.
It gets worse though, then I start having words pop in my head 'I've finally erased myself' ' 'this can be you.'
This maybe went on for about ten or fifteen minutes, then finally subside.
I can't quite put into words what it was like, but in a way it was beneficial, I can remember it as a warning; the empty shell of the person who once was there, I saw her.

I think they call it intrusive thoughts, it wasn't thinking that I could control, it played like a dream. I have had that happen before, but what was so odd is that I was in a good mood, not a crazy good mood, just calm & content.
I remember having one of those one time several years back when I was wide awake in bed, it was so disturbing I don't want to relive it, but it just came & went. I do think I was depressed then, but what the F was that?