nycteri (nycteri) wrote,
nycteri
nycteri

The emergence of numbers and bones

The binge dreams have started: mostly chocolate and the assorted Christmas cookies I baked a few weeks ago. Running through public places, blue airports and glassy houses, searching for food, running from food, eating and trying not to eat and eating anyway.

HH likes my new bones. He rubs his cock against them and shudders, palms my ribcage and flexes it, cups my pointed hip, runs his thumb down my emerging rack of ribs, slips the head of his cock into the notch of my sternum. He experiences some guilt for this. I am pleased, partially because my body pleases him more already, partially because this utterly absolves me of guilt. Because now it's clear between us that he supports this disorder's effect, if not its means. I'm sure he'd love me to be abnormally bony while eating and behaving normally... but, of course, we both know that doesn't happen.

In all honesty, the last few days have been difficult. Dizziness, coldness, minor chest pain and tightness, slight tingling and numbness in my hands and feet, electrolyte imbalances after workouts, severe nausea, some minor sleep disturbance, tiredness. My mind is fuzzy and operating at about 60% capacity. My "anorexic stagger" -- probably the least attractive thing about this disorder -- is back, at least for a few hours after each workout. I lurch around slowly, heavy-footed and reeling, my face slack, my hands unwilling to obey. HH remarked that I am sleeping an awful lot. True, but not always particularly well.

I see very little movement on the scale right now. This is not a problem. My activity numbers are very conservative (overestimating caloric intake; underestimating exercise) and they are very accurate indicators of real weight loss (not waste or water) over the long term. Thus, someday soon, the morning after a bowel movement or intense workout, I expect to see a drop in total weight that should bring it into a much closer correlation to my numbers. I've seen what the volatile nature of total body weight does to girls who are unaware of it, and I have no use for that emotional roller-coaster. Besides, I feel tighter and smaller every day now.

I have also been eating more than I planned, averaging about a quarter of my BMR. However, considering the effect of workouts, there should still be a significant drop in real body weight every day. The fact that this is not showing up in my daily weigh-ins won't bother me unless it continues for another ten days or so. The extra food has been partially due to the fact that I am plagued with houseguests. Sadly, it appears that I will not be free of houseguests until the 16th, when my new semester begins. I will make it through, and I will eat no more than I decide is best.

I am determined, proud, and satisfied. I am also vaguely anxious, not about keeping to my way but about the collateral damage to my psyche from doing so. I am damned hungry and feeling undernourished. I am pleased with my body. The concepts of fun, games, and pleasure are laughable right now: what the hell would I do with them? I am fascinated with my numbers and charts. I am frustrated that HH wants rough, crazy sex that hurts me and makes me struggle against the urge to vomit, when I have so many more important things to handle with my scant daily energy. I also love him very much and am glad of his support.

My body is smaller in every dimension. I feel alive/agony/extreme/beautiful/afraid/real.
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