Sunday, May 29, 2011


I have a slightly unusual eating disorder:  when I get stressed out, I can't eat.  It seems unusual because when I hear people talk about anorexia, they define it as the false belief that one needs to lose weight.  I don't believe that I'm fat.  I've never "dieted" in my life.  I'm just not hungry.  Nor do I have issues about certain foods (known as orthorexia.)  I'm not disturbed by the sight of other people eating (although I guess it is a little bit gross, when you think about it.)

It's only recently that I realized this is an eating disorder - and ironically, the thing that tipped me off is reading some blog posts by people who eat more when they're stressed out, instead of less.  They acknowledge that it's not just about the food, or about feeling hungry - there's something else going on.  And I thought, "Yeah, obviously I am hungry.  And when I'm not in a bad mood I eat well.  So there's something overriding my natural desire to eat."

One of my cats died recently, and as he became seriously ill he stopped eating.  It made me think about my own loss of appetite and my suicidal tendencies.  It's a means of cutting myself off from the world, going on strike, refusing to engage.  It's an act of rebellion but also . . . a capitulation.

My poor little kitty really was on his way out.  There was no reason for him to eat.  But I'm still here and I have as much right to be here as anyone, although it's hard sometimes for me to remember that. I want to stay on top of this thing.

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