Death to Fluffy, Sugary, Ooey-Gooey Peeps

I feel hollow today.  Little bees are buzzing in my chest, nibbling at my stomach.  I haven’t been able to force down more than a few bites of food since I heard Penguin was leaving.  Except last night when I ate half a box of peeps.  There was something satisfying about biting off the purple, sugar-coated heads.  Squishing the marshmallow insides against the roof of my mouth.  Of course I was sick to my stomach after, but I suppose the experience was worth the cost.

Once home, I made the crock pot meal I had been putting off for a week.  All the ingredients were purchased before I knew Penguin was leaving.  After everything was added, the ceramic dish overflowed.  It held enough to feed me for a month.  If Penguin were here, it would last maybe a week.  

You would think having a boyfriend that needs to be stuffed with 3,000 calories a day would be hard for someone with an ED.  Personally, I find it soothing.  I can enjoy the experience of buying, handling and cooking food without the stress of: a) wasting it because of a fast, b) binging, or c) the food mocking me from the fridge (weaving spells that make me glut - whispering words of encouragement - like the sirens from old fishing tales).  I’m at a loss.  Panic squeezes my ribs.  Too much food.

Hard to breathe. 

Hard to think.

Maybe Penguin being gone is a good thing.  It is possible I have come to rely on him too much.  Three months apart will give me room to breathe.  I worry constantly about losing my sense of self in a relationship.  I worry about being hurt.  I worry about needing someone too much.  I only have room for one addiction in my life.  

If my whole being can’t revolve around my ED, then who am I?

I’m going to try eating an egg white and vegetable scramble for lunch.  We’ll see how it goes.