“what progress, you ask, have i made? i have begun to be a friend to myself.”
it loses something in the defining. it sanitizes the binge and downplays it; it’s a tidy description for something that is panicked, frantic, violent, destructive, and soul destroying.
“avoid anxious thoughts. if you want to make progress, stop feeling anxious about things.” thanks, tips. if i could avoid anxious feelings, i wouldn’t be in this mess.
don’t let your actions cause harm. it’s elegantly practical. i wonder why it’s such a struggle to apply this rule to ourselves?
my depression is singular. it’s hearing only one note. tasting only one flavour. seeing only one colour. it overwhelms everything and turns the experience of life into monochrome rather than a palette of complexities and nuances.
i spent the morning having dental molds of my teeth made, so my dentist could make a model of my mouth and we could start putting together a plan to replace the eight teeth i’ve had to have removed, and crown the ones that they were able to save with root canals. just one of the unintended and expensive side-effects an eating disorder brings to the table.
my basic personal philosophy is as follows: try to be a good person. it’s been the same for as long as i can remember. i suspect that i am genetically predisposed to niceness. there are worse qualities to be in possession of.