I am.

I am.

I am cohabiting this body with an animal that wants to eat itself to death. The two dogs, beasts, within ... which shall ye feed?

But I don't feel I have two beasts within me. I have one. The one that knows nothing but self-gratification through food. And it doesn't even know that. It's pathetic. Why do I succumb to a thing in me that doesn't even know anything? Because it pretends it does. It pretends it's me. It isn't me, but it isn't imaginary either.

It has been with me since I was a kid. I remember when I was in sixth grade or so, a latchkey kid, the house to myself and Donahue for at least an hour before my dad got home from work to mutter his acknowledgment of me and the possibility that I learned something new at school that day. I'd get pitifully angry inside that my dad was home because it meant I had to stop gorging myself or else be found out.

Well, I felt that way about my husband yesterday. It's taken me since around the holidays till now, probably 15 pounds heavier in three months, to stop it. And it hurts. Because the animal in me has grown accustomed to having its way with me day after day. And it's pissed. And it's crazed right now.

But not as crazed as I was yesterday. Not as crazed as getting fat--which is actually second to the mental BS of it but serves as an indicator of how deep in denial I am--makes me.

The loss of goodness in me ... that which sparks my interest in life: the spirit, to food causes necessary suffering so that a gentle, fun, sensitive human being can overcome it. Unfortunately the affliction will never completely go away. I'll die with the shriveled up beast in me, which is the healthy alternative to dying fat, hence, mentally beaten and spiritually vacant.

And not letting it get to me ... not beating myself up about it, does not kill it. It only perpetuates the problem. Once I change what is I can forgive myself. Once I hit bottom I don't judge myself anymore. I'm pretty at peace finally in fact. Lucky me.

Is there another dog in me? Yeah, but it asks for nothing. It's perfect with nothing. It's the true me.

So some hugs would be good. They will remind me of who I am really. Thanks.