It’s a bug day, for shizzle.  Bear woke up this morning a little after 7.  Blood everywhere.  Apparently another thing he gets from me is hellacious nosebleeds.  I swear, when that kid gets a nosebleed, it looks like a crime scene.  Anyway, DH cleaned him up and put him back to bed while Mega came and slept in our bed since Bear bled all over his comforter and pillow.  DH went off to work, and we all snuggled back into bed…



      Not long after that, Bear starts crying again, so we all get up and get breakfast.  DH called and in the short time we were on the phone, Bear gave himself another horrific nosebleed.  You’d think he’d figure it out – “Fingers in the nose = pain = bloody mess.”  Yeah, not so much with Bear.  So, we get cleaned up again and sit down to lunch before going to the commissary.



          The boys are buckled in ready to go, and the car just clicks at me.  The battery is dead.  Again.  Like, this is the second time in just over 2 months.  It’s sat for all of…  a week?  Lame.  DH thinks we don’t need a new battery, but the dealership and I think we do.  Last time, it was towed because DH was deployed and I didn’t know what was wrong.  The dealership said it took a while for them to get the battery to hold a charge and they recommended getting it replaced.  We’ll see what happens there…  Maybe it will take the boys and I being stranded somewhere other than the house before DH agrees to getting a new battery.



          I can’t eat.  Well, I can, but I won’t.  I have no interest in any of the foods I can safely consume.  None.  I love raw carrots.  With ranch dressing.  I love chicken breasts.  With marinade.  I know it’s an adjustment and when I get hungry enough, I will eat raw carrots without ranch dressing, but that’s not the point.  The point is that I have always had a love-hate relationship with food.  I loved to eat, but hated the way it made me feel and the weight it packed on.  I loved to cook and try new things, too.  Now…  I hate cooking.  I just think, “Why bother?  It’s not like I can eat that.”  Even when I find an alternative to a recipe I have always enjoyed, the textures and/or tastes are different, and for me, that’s worse than not being able to eat it at all.  For instance, ice cream.  Let’s say you love you some ice cream – the cool, creamy, richness of it.  Now you try soy ice cream and it’s slightly gritty, not nearly as creamy, and less rich.  Would you rather remember the ice cream you loved so much, or the soy version?  I’d rather remember the real stuff.  I’m afraid that rather than try the alternatives or even completely new foods and recipes, I will just continue to hate eating (which is what I do right now).



     I’ve starved myself in the past – to fit into clothes I wanted to wear, to lose a few pounds last minute, or just because I was too stressed to eat.  I know I can and probably will do it again.  After about 2 days, the ache in your stomach goes away.  You get used to being dizzy and you figure out how to eat just enoughto keep from keeling over.  It’s not a great thing, I know.  Believe me, I know.  I’ve seen what it does to my skin, hair, nails, teeth…  and I know if it’s that bad on the outside, it’s got to be hell on my insides, too.  But right now…  I’d rather not eat.  If I have to have one more plate of salad (without my favorite dressing) and meat, I might just stab myself with the damn salad fork.  If I have to look at another label and read every single ingredient, and then check the carb content, I might just go postal.  If I have to cook one more meal where even one food item is different, I might just jump into the boiling pot.  This sucks…

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