Sometimes my life seems to swing back and forth from a wide open expanse to a tiny broom closet. I'm not sure what it is that throws me into the smaller space, but maybe my strategies aren't strong enough yet. I remembered today, for the first time in a few months, why it was so easy for me to not eat. It was because a convincing voice started to ask, "Eat? Why would I?" And I didn't have a good enough answer to counter it. The healthy voices somehow got buried - lost behind a big brain fog and a big ache in my heart. I know this will pass along, and I don't know if I should bother writing about it. But why the hell did I start this blog? I wonder if I should have kept this blog more private, and if it's inappropriate and weird to throw this out to whoever should happen to read it. I don't know. Today I was feeling that very big ache in my heart again - hey, c'est la vie. I really wondered why I would eat. It seemed odd that I would. But I put the food in the body and I went out for a walk with Cocoa, the lovely dog I'm looking after, and I felt better. All those waves of shame and humiliation that keep coming - I just have to let them come I guess... I know that the sense of futility is a trick, a real bad trick. A lot of movement happened this year, even under hard circumstances, and I've gotta keep trusting that I'll be able to get where I want to go. Big heart aches and all.