I know how fleeting this feeling will be, and I treasure it. Control. Fasts are fucking with my metabolism, but I had one more on Sunday. On Monday I had 60 calories in grapes and a plum. Today I had half a cup of oatmeal with brown sugar, barely a portion but I'm going to call it 200. I don't need to eat anything else today, nor do I want to. I don't want this feeling to go away.
A light has brightened the end of the tunnel by means of a competitive creative writing department which I'm hoping to qualify for. If I do, I will be earning dual degrees in that and visual art (the bachelor's in science rather than the bfa). I am suddenly... enthusiastic. I shop my short stories among my writerly friends from high school and impatiently await their responses. I don't want this feeling to go away.
I am filled with such love and warmth and gratitude for my mother. She is my best friend. I don't want this feeling to go away.
I am pursuing recovery, kind of. I am committed to, at the very least, getting myself a psych for the remainder of the academic year. I would like a "team" or some sort of outpatient care by the summer. I don't want this feeling to go away.
But...
I lost another pound this morning. This feeling can never go away.
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