Hatred Is So Much Closer

I Had A Love Affair With Books, With Characters And Their Words. Books Kept Me Company. When The Voices Of The Book Faded, As With The Last Long Chord Of A Record, The Back Cover Crinkling Closed, I Could Swear I Heard A Door Click Shut.

My Brain Sometimes Departs From The Agreed-upon Reality, And My Private Reality Is A Very Lonely Place. But In The End, I'm Not Sure I Wish I'd Never Gone There.

You Will Miss Her Sometimes. Bear In Mind She's Trying To Kill You. Bear In Mind You Have A Life To Live.

This Is The Very Boring Part Of Eating Disorders, The Aftermath. When You Eat And Hate That You Eat. And Yet Of Course You Must Eat. You Don’t Really Entertain The Notion Of Going Back. You, With Some Startling New Level Of Clarity, Realize That Going Back Would Be Far Worse Than Simply Being As You Are. This Is Obvious To Anyone Without An Eating Disorder. This Is Not Always Obvious To You.

• This Seems Impossible To Me. It Seems Biologically Impossible To Stay The Same Size, Although I Must. It Seems One Must Always Be Either Bigger Or Smaller Than They Were At Some Arbitrary Point In Time To Which All Things Are Compared. The Panties That Are Possibly Tighter Than They Were. When? You Can't Say When. But You Are Absolutely Positive No Question That It's True.