I won’t make a sound so you won’t wake.
I’m not sure what to write. I’m not sure I remember how to write. My fingers are out of practice; my mind has rusted.
I know I say that quite often, but this time I mean it.
I’m having trouble remembering things; words, dates, meals… It’s frightening.
What if my mind really has rusted? What if I’ll never get those moments back?
I’m missing so many things being closed off inside myself like this. So many beautiful things.
I made a deal of sorts with my therapist. She told me that it didn’t matter how many calories I ate a day, as long as I ate once in the morning and once at night, and didn’t throw it back up.
So, fine.
I’ll eat twice a day, and make sure it adds up to 200 calories.
Then burn it all off.
Great.
My mother is gone for a few days. She’s in Philidelphia for a writer’s conference. I’m worried about her- is that silly? She’s a grown woman who can obviously take care of herself (?) so why should I be wondering things like, “Has she eaten?” “Did she take her pills?” “Is she making sure she gets enough rest?” Like she’s my child instead of the other way around.
That just is not healthy.
She told me before she left that she would “scope out the city and see if it was a nice place for when I go into Renfrew Center”.
Oh Jesus.
She’s planning this already?
