Thursday, October 11, 2012
do you know this house is falling apart
"We've got no money but we've got hearts."
All my hard earned progress, each pound fought for, all in vain. Stupid, stupid doctors. Stupid doctors.
For the past 3 weeks my house here in England has turned into a recovery unit. A recovery unit with one patient. Me. It sucks. I'm back to where I started. Right back to where I started. All that exercise and restricting, for nothing. It's all back on. This is what happens when you live with doctors.
You can't hide anything. You can't run away. They don't listen to any of my excuses, we all know we've heard them before from those conniving anorexics in our inpatient psychiatric units.
I don't know what to do. They are strangers to me. Poor students, poor students with no money. Poor medical students who are forcing me to eat. I have absolutely no food in the house. It's one of my ways of restricting. If there is no food, I can't eat. And I'm generally too lazy to go out and buy food when I'm starving.
But that's no barrier, they give me their food. Well, he does anyway. He cooks for me, caesar salad with chicken, pasta with prawn and whiskey and cream sauce, baked potato with tuna. Out of his own pocket he is buying each pound I put on. And I can't say no. When someone that good looking cooks a meal that smells so good it makes me salivate as I sit, defeated at the kitchen table, and puts it down in front of me as he sits opposite, eating his own portion and watching me eat.
There are no weigh ins at this house, thankfully. But they can see the weight going on. I can see the weight going on. He might only see me for dinner, but he makes damn sure there are enough calories in it for me to put on weight.
After dinner, he breaks out the chocolate, or ice cream, or both. It doesn't matter when I come home. He's there, waiting, with dinner and dessert.
Part of me hates him to the very core. Part of me is torn because he is after all one of the best looking guys I have ever seen and I want to make him happy. What the fuck is happening to me.
But there is still one fact that I can hold onto. 2 and a half more weeks of this and I'll be gone, away from him, half a world away from him. And then, just you watch.