There is a delicious smell in the kitchen. Bacon, frying with garlic. C will add Parmesan and cream and mix it into fresh pasta. We will then call L and K down to eat.
‘Creamy pasta’ is what we call a stretch food. It is one of the foods L cooks beautifully and loves. That is why it is on the ‘fear food’ list. Because she loves it. The twisted, demented parasite that is anorexia tells her these foods are bad and she is bad for eating them, greedy for liking them. But for her, this food is Popeye spinach, the healthiest thing she could have. Carbs, fat and protein. It will heal and nourish her. But she doesn’t yet know this is on the menu.
To cause further complications I am having leftover casserole from yesterday. She will rage about why I am not eating this food and I will tell her that I am trying to maintain my weight, because my BMI is hovering around 25, after losing a stone and a half this year. And no, this has not caused L’s eating disorder. I have lost it through eating huge healthy meals and cutting out wine. But part of me thinks I should abandon this diet. If it would guarantee a cure, I would cheerfully abandon it. But it won’t. If I put on weight it will probably confirm to L that starvation is the only route to weight loss.
Today, depression felt overwhelming. It was a struggle not to cry for most of the day and when L sent me a text asking me how I was I replied saying how sad I felt. She sent me funny, lovely texts to cheer me up, but I wanted to cry even more. Everything comes back to eating. L wants to cheer me up? She can eat, that will do it. She wants to defeat the ED demon. Again she needs to eat. We have a running joke at the moment. Any minor ailment she mentions meets my response of “That’s because you need to eat more lard”. Of course neither of us eat lard, but drinking extra virgin olive oil doesn’t work as well.
Tea is nearly ready. I am about to call her. Wish me luck.