I cannot express enough how much I love the feeling of fasting. To wake up, feeling that sweet emptiness and knowing that I have have maintained control over my basic animal instincts. To know that all around me, others have succumbed to the allure of calories, when I have not. 'Tis such a rush.
I saw my counsellor last night, who spent much of our time listening to me rant and rave about foundations of relationships, past wrongs, failures and lessons learned. Finally at the conclusion of our session he asked me what I was doing to look after myself. How do I keep myself from spiralling into madness and self-destruction... I nearly laughed out loud... I couldn't exactly tell him that I've restricted my calorie intake to less than 200 per day, or that I spend as much time as possible burning those 200 calories off. I was truthful in my answer though, I seize control of the little things in my life. Clean up the messy room. Re-organise the pantry, work out harder on my exercice machine, scream, yell, howl at the moon, blog my anxieties away... All that jazz. He was happy with my response and told me that my reactions and feelings were healthy and normal. Another almost laugh out loud moment. It was very difficult to keep the grin from escaping my traitourous lips, but I was on a super high after that. Exactly why, I'm not sure, but I drove home on cloud 9. Then this morning, my scales reflected my mood. A loss. A sweet, beautiful loss! 2kg begone!! Oh ana, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways!
Today is the last day of my liquid fast. I know that I'm supposed to break it tomorrow at lunch with my husband, but I just don't want to. I'm supposed to get on a plane and spend a weekend of excess with my girlfriends, but I just don't want to. I want to bliss-bathe. I want to revel in the feeling of an empty belly and see the numbers go down on my scales. I know I have to re-connect with the rest of the world, but here in this virtual bubble, life seems so much better. Here I have a sweet disposition. I am a happy, charming, graceful beauty with not a care in the world. A feather... Outside of it I am none of those things. 'Tis my downfall. But still I persist.
I am afraid of what the weekend holds. Afraid of what excesses I will need to go to to hide my lack of everything else. Afraid of what my scales will tell me upon my return. Afraid of being alone, unable to connect with my support network, succumbing to temptation. In a feeble attempt to keep my head held high, I'm planning on really pushing the fluids whilst I'm away. Keeping a bottle with me always, at least to give the illusion of consuming. Keep the questions at bay. It will be difficult, being in such close quarters with people who are so interested in everything you do... *sigh* I guess only time will tell if I am successful or not, and so will I.
Bless to all,