While I sit here, feeling free, feeling genuinely happy, laughing without a care, Ed still wins.
Yes. I have had a couple glasses of wine. I feel exuberant. I drink not because I need to to eat. I did so to have a fabulous celebration.
Yet I sit here thinking: I hope I drank enough that I am forced to vomit. So I shall eat ice cream so it does not hurt to vomit later.
Damnit Ed. Fuck. Even in the times where I thought I was without you, there you are. Popping up.
It’s ironic: I used to have to be drunk to even force myself to eat minimally–dark days. Now here I am inebriated and enjoying myself, and so unaware of your influence. It took me truly asking myself why I was eating ice cream to remember that I thought–eh it’s okay to drink more so that I vomit in the am and have ice cream to even out the acid-base balance. Fuck. You win. Aaagains.
I seriously hate committing but this seems to be the time when it’s ok–when Ed has the reigns.
Well there goes my buzz…