dhampyresa

Earlier today I was reading ‘Knowing it could kill you isn’t a deterrent’: the deadly trade in diet pills. The article centers around DNP, a chemical not meant for human consumption. It also contains quotes from survivors and sufferers of anorexia nevrosa -- suoting two those under the cut.

“If only I could take a knife and cut all of the disgusting folds of fat out of my body” -- I'll be honest and say I have had this exact thought too many times to count.

“Eating disorders make you hate yourself,” she told me. “I read that DNP was an explosive, that there was no safe dose, that there was no antidote. I thought, if it is that severe, it must be good. If it made me feel horrific, I felt I must be on track to lose more weight. Knowing it could kill you just isn’t a deterrent.”
I on't know if my issues with food count as an eating disorder but I do know this: when one of my friends was inpatient for anorexia nevrosa, she was the one to point out my thinking about food sounded like hers. I also know any time I see a bodyweight lower than mine, I start thinking of how to reach it and how often to skip meals. (The answer is every meal btw.) That when I read the above quote I was like "yeah DUH".
All this to say: I get it. Even as I was reading the article I started to wonder if maybe it would be worth it...

But then. BUT THEN. I thought, clear as anything, "I don't want to die. I have things to do."

I don't know if it's because I was at a (different) friend's funeral less than a week ago and/or I am dtruggling to finish some drawings before my train tomorrow, but it's true. I don't want to die and I do have things to do.

I feel like it's the first time in my life I've ever consciously thought this. It seemed worth writing down.