Dinner Time

In my mind it said go ahead, eat. Then it began to sing it's nauseating song of "defeat, defeat." I couldn't stop eating and got full.

Mom said, "You succumbed. I can see why."

Something about this true reflection of my inner self, displayed by my all seeing mother for me to hear out loud, angered me. A part of myself I prefer not to face. Why see it like that.

She comes to take a taste. I say no. I don't want to see my trespassing affect her. She can't eat this stuff, it makes her sick, yet she wants to anyway. I can't stand watching her, her desire to eat things she KNOWS make her feel ill unabated.

"Just a tiny little bite," she says, as she dips a sliver of a chip into the dip. "It's sooooo good." She croons as she walks away.

It is too late for me. This time the true sense of irritation and near fury arose. Just like it used to, unquestioned, when she did irritating things like that.

What had been an enjoyable dinner turned distasteful in my mouth. My own irritation had ruined my meal. I continued to eat, in this way punishing myself to some extent. Poisoning my self in a small way, eating without really enjoying, eating beyond full and wishing along the way to have enough room to shove more down. And feeling fat.

I turn to Win, not angry with him for his usual silence but just defeated. I watched the sensation in myself and didn't care much for it, nor much to change it. I feel myself going into the same space I was in before when I was here. Not practising and becoming involved with my own neurosis. Calling myself pathological, realizing this sensation becoming like the one I tried to run from in Thailand. It had crept up there and I knew I had to get away to break the cycle.

How do I get away from myself? I even desired a beer, remembering that this used to be how I felt all the time, only much more unconsciously. Now, as I feel it more consciously, it's like just feeling it is enough to bring to unconscious cause I can't stand it. I shouldn't be here, I want to be in Thailand where it's better, I want to be alone, and I know it is none of these things. Or is it?

I'm back with ice cream. Is someone out there saying I clearly have an eating disorder? Cause I don't think it's a real disorder til I am on the verge of death. I would never go that far. This is merely a bit of a pathology I haven't been able to get a handle on and I would like to know why.

So I read about poverty and starvation. It is as though we are balancing each other unconsciously, but both at such ends of the scale it is not good for anyone. While I stuff my face, they starve. I am trying to fill the emptiness, the void, ignorning that this is God. I feel the imbalance of the world and am trying to make up for it in the wrong way.

Now I just feel rather ill. I see the food churning in my belly and it is so close to me I can't get away from it. That is the delusion. Take care, my love. What is the purpose of this? How do I be free of this demon once and for all?