I think I have forgotten how desperate and crazy I can become over food, how obssessed and driven. So it doesn't appear to be as much of a problem as it used to be. I have forgotten how I used to buy a bag of chocolate chip cookies at Rite Aid and tell myself they were for everyone. Then I would fix dinner and (having started eating them in the car) eat the rest of the cookies - one of the kids might get two - that evening. The next day I would do the exact same thing again. And during the day I would have had some other cookies, some candy bars too. And maybe another candy bar when I bought the cookies. My stomach would distend and bloat. Sometimes I would eat myself into a physical state of such discomfort I could focus on nothing else but my stomach hurting, actually hurting. The weekends were worse. I'd start out eating something like cookies or candy, and eat - all - day - long. I'd never ever stop, all day. That is when my stomach would usually hurt the worst. I'd begin to have fantasies about bulimia at that point. Once I bought some syrup of ipecac, but I could never bring myself to use it.

Now, this wasn't the worst part, of course. Oh, no. All DAY long - I would have thoughts of those cookies (like they were so great! - please!) pop into my head as I worked and talked to people. As the time drew near to my being able to get them, the thoughts and the drive to get them would intensify until I went and got them. At this point, the cookies were singing to me. Calling me in a siren song, luring me to my emotional death. And did eating them shut this up? No, no, no. It was worse. I was now stuck in a room with these singing cookies, eating them, and the singing intensified. I couldn't hear any other thoughts or feel any of my feelings clearly. If one of my children or loved ones tried to communicate with me, well, they'd better be shouting. Or crying. Or in dire emotional need. Cause I could just barely make out what they wanted or needed if it were a normal, every day kind of conversation. I wouldn't really care. I would tend to it -feeling resentful for the intrusion - as the cookies would keep calling and calling me. They, after all, were my true best friend.

I think remembering this pain and the oblivion is the best way for me to keep walking this path. I'm having a lot of difficulty right now with my feelings; and I will for quite some time, as my confusing, conflicting emotions sort themselves out and I continue to integrate my selves. I also have trouble knowing when I need to be alone, and when I need to be with some one else. It's very hard to ask for a friend to just keep me company when I'm feeling so sad and burdened. Even though I am perfectly willing to do it for some one else - I find it hard to believe some one else (besides M.) wouldn't mind.