Yeah, sooo… I’ve done quite poorly with the whole not eating poorly, thing. I’ve gotten through most of the day, dealt with the weakness and mild withdrawal, and only had to just fall asleep. The problem? I can’t sleep AND I can’t fall asleep. What happens? My house becomes the scene of the ultimate game of “hide n’ seek”. Treats being the hidden jewel, and my hungry head being the seeker or sorts. The night of Dec. 1st and Dec. 2nd ended in me discovering a can of cranberry sauce. Yeah. I ate a can of cranberry sauce/jelly with a spoon like a guy stranded on a deserted island that finds a coconut. …And I did this twice.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, “What’s so fantastically failing about that?”. Well… Tonight definitely qualifies me for that title.
My issues, the spark of failure, began at a hospice about 20 minutes from my house. At this hospice resides my grandmother. My grandmother is dying. She has, just today, decided to deny all future dialysis treatments and basically wants to die. I moved to this state almost two years ago to help take care of her. To spare you all a whole bunch of back-logged info, a.k.a. “time”, the situation is this. I moved here, she was an angry old a$$hole, I took offense because she wasn’t how I remembered(and I was dealing with some serious depression and panic disorder, like always), and we became bitter and mostly rude toward each other. But I helped her out any way, because I hoped she would change AND I was getting a free place to live AND supposedly gonna get help with college tuition(which never happened). Now, toward the end, she’s become totally different. Docile, appreciative, loving… All the things I’d hoped she would be when I moved here. We made plans to do stuff together and I was hopefully going help her get well, but then -three weeks ago- she got really sick out of nowhere and now she’s about to die. Any day now.
This goes deep, real deep. She would fly across the U.S. and visit me when I was lonely, bullied child. She flew me out to her and we went to Disney World and the Everglades. She was my favorite person EVER. But, time goes by and I learn only to hate myself as I grow up. I was so ashamed of who I was that I was embarrassed to contact her as I got older. I didn’t want to be confronted with the fact that I was doing nothing special with my life, I had no direction, and I let that drive a wedge between me and most family members in my life as I grew. I know she was hurt by that, and to come see her in my late twenties for the first time since being a child was awkward for both of us.
Tonight I thought about how it must have made her feel. As I sat and watched her staring off blankly, right through my face – only to come back to reality for a few brief moments at a time, I broke down… I apologized. For a few minutes she became totally aware of her surroundings. She put her frail, shaky arms around me as I sobbed uncontrollably into her belly. I confessed everything, all of the words that I was afraid would make me look weak or sound pathetic – I said them. I told her how she was always my favorite person in the whole world, my favorite grandma, and that I was ashamed of who I was – not uncaring about her, that I cared about her very much. After a moment of silence followed by more sniffles, she said, “I forgive you”.
Finally she fell asleep, and I left. The problem, I hadn’t eaten all day. I was hungry and emotional. I started at a popular sandwich chain with a footlong sub. I was still so ferociously hungry in my mind that after that was done I stopped by a pizza place and bought a large pizza. After eating that I went to the gas station where my friend works. There happened to be candy on a super sale. I bought three bags of chocolate candy, chocolate covered cake pieces, and some gummy fruit-candy. I ATE EVERYTHING. Like a numb, drone-like machine built only to chew, I couldn’t stop eating.
I am sleepy, I am sad, and I have failed on day three of my supposed “healthy turn-around”.
After a while, it all becomes so overwhelming that you just want to say F it.
I’ve not given up. I’m kinda like the food addiction equivalent of the Little Engine That Could, except I just keep screwing up – moving toward total utter failure, leading ultimately – most likely – to suicide.
However, I am still hopeful that I can turn it around.