Having My Cake
(am sharing this unsavory bit of my past (anorexia is easier to admit) because I read this quote this morning and felt it burning in my marrow bone: “One goes into the desert to vomit up the interior phantom, the doubter, the double.” Father Paul Evdokimov
There’s a way in which I’ve given up on people. That’s why I read. That’s also why I vomited. Food was so reliable. Consistent. Non-judgmental. There were no limits. I could eat a dozen donuts and not feel like a pig. I could eat three quarts of ice cream and not feel gross and greedy. I could eat a box of chocolates and not feel selfish for not sharing. I had finally found a way to take as much as I was needing, without any painful consequence (i.e. Fat) and I was not about to give it up. I could have my cake and eat it too, and then get rid of it and no one was the wiser. Eating took the edge off my intensity. Food became a place to go with all my neediness; the hunger I was ashamed of. Vomiting was a reflection of my struggle to find comfort in a listener who would not be devoured.