My grandmother started touching my hipbones and saying I was thin.
My classmates said my eyes were yellow and that I should really go home.
I didn't go to my theatre group yesterday.
I can't walk.
My psychotherapist tried to convince me to eat "negcal" foods. I told her THERE IS NO SUCH THING.
My eyes hurt and burn like hell.
I skipped two classes today.
I can't breathe; breathing is a struggle.
I get dizzier than ever.
I have been cooking and baking with my grandmother for an hour, mixing and adding water and melting. Once the cake was done, I smelled it. I touched it. I even kissed it, and then got the crumbles out of my mouth. I could not eat any of it. And honestly, it smells and looks better than it could ever taste. I caress food, smell it, watch it, talk about it, I love it and plan how to eat/not eat it. I imagine the taste while drinking water, and the water automatically gets the taste of food.
My eyes, my yellow eyes burn.
They started joking that I am anaemic.
I will eat tomorrow. I want to eat tomorrow. I'm afraid to eat tomorrow. I'm thrilled, terrified, horrified, anxious, I already feel guilty, even though this is the fourth zero-calorie food and tomorrow I'll be taking laxatives anyway.
And there's no alternative.
I am so damn cold. But I am empty. There is nothing inside me. It's not only about losing weight. It's more about the strength and will power to not even touch food, to feed yourself with its smell. It is my thing and no one knows about it, no one else I know can do it. They are eaters. I am not.
Sometimes I think it's so pathetic. Not eating, seriously? I think I have talked about that before. But I don't care how pointless it might seem to others. It means everything to me and that is not going to change.
I'll stay like this until there's nnothing left inside me.
Until I see a rainbow in hell.
Later edit: Fine, I'll have a hot chocolate. 97 calories. Liquid. Three days with nothing, it's been better than ever.