It All Comes Back to Bite

Bite.....ironic. So many bites it took to get here, past the point of the recurring relapses and to actually eating.

Now, what I dread, instead, is the chomp, chomp of consequences.

When it all happened, it seemed....unimportant, unlikely. I was young and dumb and sad. Maybe at times I thought I was invincible. Mostly I think I thought I'd be gone. Somewhere between the numbers and goals, I left the idea of disappearing as a comfortable inevitability.

That hasn't happened. I'm painfully visible and in existence, more of me than ever before. And, now I have some added punishments.

My body went through the wringer. In some facets, it's bounced back in remarkable ways. Others, not so much.

I got 8 cavities filled. One seems unsuccessful, surely meaning a root canal ahead, when I eventually stop rescheduling the return to the dentist.

My bones have consistently been in osteopenia stage. Doubt a scan after this latest relapse will show any better, more likely worse.

The digestive issues seem to create most panic. Choices were made, and continue to be as I ignore it. I have an appt., so that's better than not. Embarrassing, but, then again....surely by standards are different after treatment.

I'm not sure if I've made myself intolerant to foods, too. Could really complicate the future of my "recovery" (not sure I ascribe to the term).

Then there's my brain. Remember when food was gonna fix that? Yeah, that....didn't happen. Still sobbing on the floor, now I'm just....fatter, lost everything I had before.

When you hear people talk about eating disorders it seems like I separate reality to you doing it. Like, sure, might lose some hair or whatever, but....only a certain subset really get medically messed up?

Love that I'm like a walking statistic, a great DARE-style testimonial that the next person will ignore just like I did.

But, again, I also.....wanted the consequences? Because of that final, final one I imagined.

It's much less fun when it's days of peeing on the floor randomly because you've lost the muscle tone to control it. Gonna guess that's not unrelated to some of the major problems going on now.

It bites. I took all the bites, but it wasn't enough to avoid the punishment that comes with treating your body with wild abandonment.

At first, I was doing it for my health. Eventually, I guess it'd be hard to see it that way, even if we give into delusion. Such is the way of sickness.

So then, a choice:

Do you see it as a signal to join in the gnawing and destruction, knowing it's too late to go back to health and it's not worth the fight? I deserve the pain and decaying.

Do you see it as a nibble to react to with kindness and sign not to do more damage? A chance to at least not get worse.

Seems wild to most that's a choice, I guess. Healthy people, with brains and bodies that want to be here, would most surely select option B.

For now, I guess scheduling with doctors means I'm willing to see worth in future.

Doesn't bode well I left work to cry in the shower though, huh? I didn't choose to harm, but phew, did I want to. Again, why not pile it on then? Sink teeth further in to the mess. What I deserve.

Eating disorders are vampires, they'll bite and go on to suck you dry, all life long, you never really get away. Maybe we can at least get an Olivia Rodrigo remix collab.