plan for tomorrow, I promise you, you're going to be okay

"We're right here beside you, and right here we will stay. Plan for tomorrow, because I swear to you, you're going to be okay." 

I apologise for my absence. The truth is, I'm thinking of taking a wee break from blogging, and from everything. I don't really understand what's happened. Or how. 

Well, that's not true. I think the truth is more like, there is a huge battle going on in my head right now and it makes me utterly incapable of doing anything, including doing this blog. 

The small part of me that wants recovery is rearing it's head again. It's ugly, ugly head. I've been feeling this way since I saw the professor. 

He asked me how many ribs I could see. I told him that right now I could only see 2 of them.  Down from 4 ribs. How I have failed in life. The look he gives me is one that I have trouble reading, and trouble believing. It's a strange mix of concern, amusement and sadness. 

"I know you can still see your ribs because I can feel them when I hug you." 

In my head I celebrate this sentence. 

This must be what it feels like to be loved. 

Part of me is sad. Because now I realise that in all my 22 years of life, this is the first time I've felt loved. 

It's an unspeakable security, an unfaltering tenderness, a place I belong. 

That warmth that spreads throughout a body when one swallows hot soup. That's how I feel all the time. Always warm. Filled with the assurance of safety. 

Filled with the vulnerability that I have been sheltering for so long. 

In a way it feels good to let some of that go. 

So much of what I have worried over for so long is now leaving me. And all it took was for one person to show that they care. 

A new kind of restlessness has filled my bones.

The agitation of joy. Of having motivation. And the relief of not constantly questioning myself and all that I do. 

I feel so blessed.

How did I find the professor?

A man with no children, who can never have children of his own, but desperately wants a daughter. 

How did he find me?

A girl who has spent most of her life wanting the love and approval of a father who can't ever give it to her. 

I know that he hides his affection for me from his wife.

She has her own set of problems. If she knew mine, she'd fall apart. I am a daughter to her. And following in her ED footsteps. 

When it's just the professor, things are somehow calmer. Open.

He reaches for me. Pulls me into his chest. Wraps his arms around me and squeezes. 

"It's so good to see you."

Peck on the cheek. I crinkle my nose and giggle.

In those moments I feel perfect. 

Not a thing that I would change. Not one thing.

Pity it never lasts long.

As I sit and I feel my thighs touch, I imagine getting liposuction in my head. 

I imagine having a gap between them.

I feel so unhappy with how fat I am. Desperately so. 

I hate lying to him. Really I do.

I hate upsetting him, a better daughter would just obey. 

But I'm not a better daughter. And I can't obey this one thing.

Plan for tomorrow. Those three words mean different things to the two of us.

For him it means me getting over this. Looking at food normally. No more cutting. Gaining some weight. And just a little confidence. Then the two of us moving forwards along the same path.

For me it means thin. And thin. And blood and thin. And thin.