Being sick last week morphed into laryngitis over the weekend and a rough week of trying to teach ballet without a voice. I was almost certain I would be sent home from work for being so ill that I didn’t bother to call in sick. I showed up and was met with indifference to my suffering. Just what ED loves. No one else cares about me, so why should I look after myself by staying home? I also managed a good few days of starving because I was too sick to eat.
My relationship with my boyfriend has kept deteriorating because he refuses to give me a timeline on the engagement we agreed on in January. I’m in two minds whether to leave him or not. He says he loves me but isn’t ready “to put all my chips in and spin the wheel.” I’m insulted and I’m mad. On Friday he asked for the first time ever if I had just thrown up dinner. I had. I don’t really care enough right now to get back on my recovery train. ED is the only comfort I have in this current chaos.
Tomorrow I will turn 30. I am old before I am ready to be old. I wonder if I’m having some kind of crisis as I take stock of my life? I’m pretty sure I am!