Wednesday, January 12, 2011

a different kind of ill

I'm writing this journal because I am sick. I am sick for many
reasons and my sickness takes on many forms and sometimes, the only
way for me to sit down, buckle up and do some real work is for me to

One aspect of my illness is Ana. I'm sure some of you know her well.
Doctors refer to her as Anorexia Nervosa, but to me she is a person
who I have known all my life. I didn't notice her much when I was
little, she was just the girl in the room who would give me
repulsive glares every now and then. When I became a teenager she
started talking to me. Now that I'm an adult, she's moved in with
me. My household is a recovery unit. Every minute of every hour of
every day my family are shoving food down my throat. This is why I'm
always been fat, even if others call me thin, I feel fat, and that's
all that really matters. Quod me nutruit, me destruit. I love her
and I hate her. She is killing me but I will surely die if she
leaves me.

Another aspect of my illness is what some people would
call "lovesickness". I don't call it that. It's the most awful thing
I have ever experienced. It has turned me from an ambitious, hard
working, perfectly functional human being and destroyed me into a
snivelling husk of a person who can't sleep, can't focus, can't
work, can't exercise, can't go a day without randomly bursting into
tears. Because of it, my job is at risk, things that I have worked
hard all my life to get are at risk and yet I don't have the ability
to do anything except sit back and watch it slide away from me.

The boy in question is someone I've known for more than a decade. He
is my best friend. He knows me better than I know myself. He is also
currently in Holland, visiting his sister for a month. I miss him
like all hell. But he also rejected me, so it's a strange sort
of "missing him" because on the one hand I want my best friend back
so I can cry to him about all this. On the other hand, I never want
to see him again.

At the centre of the final aspect of my illness is a scalpel. I
say "illness" but it's something that I like and I enjoy and I
wouldn't ever give up for the world even though the world thinks I
have given it up. Why a scalpel? because they slice through skin
beautifully and leave the nicest looking scars. Sometimes, to get
away from the tension, I need to let myself bleed a little. It works
very well but since the general consensus is that this not good, I
decided to list it as part of my illness.

In between all that sick, slot moving out of home, the second to
last year of medical school, a pending due date for a paper and a
demanding professor. Somewhere in amongst all that there is me.
Bouncing around from one thing to another. Trying to keep it

His name is of no consequence but from here on in he shall be referred to as Jones. For the past year not a day has passed without us
contacting each other in some way. Now he is in Holland and I
haven't heard from him in 2 weeks. I feel like I slowly dying. It's
a horrible way to live, checking my email every few minutes, hoping
for a message from Jones, dreading a message from Prof CNM. I just want
to know that he is okay, that his chronic fatigue isn't flaring up,
that he's having a good time. And, somewhere hidden in the space in
between his words, I want to know that he hasn't forgotten about me.
I say that he rejected me. But what he really said was that he
wanted to think about it. To me, this is as good as a no. Since he
is going to be away for a month in total, by the time he gets back I
will have convinced myself it is a no and have finished my mourning.

But he is still my best friend. We totally geek out together, being
a geek is great fun. I miss him. I told him I fancied him on
Christmas Eve. He left for Holland on Dec 27th. I need to have a
good long conversation with him when he gets back but I don't know
if he'll want to see me.

Since we are best friends, I know all the girls that he has fancied
and thinking back, he definitely has a type. Pale skin, part Asian,
long dark hair, super skinny. I'm none of those things. Well, I am
Asian. I have short dark hair, I am tanned and I am fat, fat, fat.
Really, it's no wonder I don't tickle his fancy. I always knew he
was too good for me, still, doesn't hurt to shoot for the moon every
now and then.

I can hear my stomach growling right now. I can also feel the
emptiness. I have already had 4 cups of tea and a cup of miso soup
today in an effort to curb my appetite and it has been working.
Besides the miso soup (15 cal) I haven't had anything to eat. But I
have resolved to have lunch because I have a meeting with Prof CNM
and SPM (the doctor I'm writing the paper with) and so I can't be
thinking about food.

I dread feeling hungry. Being hungry gives me a headache. But at the
same time, hunger pains and tummy growling is such a feeling of
bliss because it constantly reminds me that I am empty, empty,
empty. Being empty gives me such a feeling of accomplishment. It
means that I had enough self control to steer away from food and
step closer to my goal.

My goal weight right now is 49kg. Why 49kg? I know that this is an
awfully heavy weight, and my ultimate goal weight is 37kg. But I
have to take everything in steps and I have latched onto 49 as a
good number. I'm currently 60kg so that's 11kg away. Perfectly
feasible. 49kg is because I read that one of my favourite characters
is 49kg. I have no idea how there can even be stats on anime
characters but there sure are! Height and weight included. It's
really odd and hilarious at the same time, but my favourite
character is 49kg, and 165cm tall. I'm 160cm tall so I figure 49kg
should be a reasonable first goal. Then 45kg. Then 37kg but like I
said, one step at a time!

So anyway, quite enough for now.

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