Dragonfly Diaries: When She Feels Like a Moth

A dragonfly is attracted to water.  Pure, clean, unadulterated water.  You don't see dragonflies swarming around muddy or polluted ponds.

Moths are attracted to light, no matter what the source.  They cannot tell the difference between a harmless fluorescent and a candle that could disintegrate them in a nanosecond.  They flutter aimlessly, instinctively, towards temptation.

Makes sense that dragonflies are thin and graceful, while moths are fat and unremarkable.

After another two weeks of "attempted recovery" (aka laziness and gluttony) I'm up to 107 again.  Nine pounds heavier than I was when I came back to school.  It's funny...today, I looked in the mirrors in the girls' dressing room, and I thought, Look at that, I have boobs again.  I have C-cups.  And I have an ass.  I kind of like myself with those.  I know some people do.  Some people are into that kind of thing.  Boobs...and ass...on a girl...

But it's the number.  107.  That is disgusting and unacceptable.  Do I have to weigh that much to be proportionate?  No.  This is excess.  This is DEAD weight.  This is the result of eating too many packets of fruit snacks from the vending machine.  This is the result of thinking it's okay to cheat on my own vegetarianism with some sushi.  This is the result of ACTUALLY EATING DINNER and ACTUALLY KEEPING IT DOWN.  This is the result of not purging successfully when the insistence is upon me.  This is the result of avoiding the gym because it triggers the hell out of me.

I should be 105.  That used to be my "happy weight."  My "okay" and "easy to maintain" weight.  I can cut out the sugar and get back to it easily.

But it is never good enough.  It could be, it should be, but it isn't.

When I was 94, it wasn't good enough.  I was still two pounds away from the BMI criteria for anorexia.  I never quite made it.  Never lost my period.  Never fainted from hunger.

Didn't come close enough to death.  Didn't scare myself.  I enjoyed the drama.  Reveled in it.  Thrived on it.  And right now, in the midst of this "others' reality relapse," as I call it, I miss it desperately.  It tantalizes me.  It is more tempting than any food craving.

But it's deceitful.  It will not fulfill the things it promises.

Then again, it comes closer than food.

The temptations are everywhere.  They contradict one another.  Either could help or hurt.  But I'm a moth.  I can't tell the difference.