Epiphanies in Funny Places.

Today I had an epiphany.  Or, as my friend Bekah would say, an 'eniphany'.

We had a 'party' during our last Spanish seminar of the term this afternoon.  I didn't eat anything, because I can't eat anything in front of most people, and also because I wasn't allowed the calories.  I was expecting to find this very difficult, and for everyone to ask me questions.  They didn't, and the seminar passed without me feeling too panicky.

In the lecture afterwards, I was sitting with my best friend and she mentioned that another friend calorie counts sometimes.  I showed her my list of 'Food That I Can Eat' to illustrate calorie-counting-gone-mad, which runs to about twenty things, and has the calorie count of each listed next to it.  At the bottom of the page is my daily calorie target.

'I'm going to be harsh here,' says she, 'If you carry on eating like this, you're going to die.'.

And that was my epiphany.  I don't want to die, of course I don't.

I'm so fed up (see previous post!) of eating like this, and of being like this.

I need help.  I definitely need help.  I've been in half-denial for long enough and it's time to stop.  I don't want to be the selfish person who makes all the people around her worry about how ill she is, or the one with such forcibly low blood-sugar that she can't have a proper conversation.

So, tomorrow, I'm going to book a doctor's appointment.  And I'm going to be big and brave and, finally, do something about this.