It’s funny to think about it. About a year ago on my own birthday, one of my friends made me a birthday cake and delivered it to me at school (the picture above is of the cake). I had to carry around a cake all day. After school we had drama club auditions for our fall show and while I wasn’t trying out, I did hang with everyone because they were my friends back then (since then there has been a lot of the other kind of drama and I don’t really spend time with them anymore). One of my friends and I sat down, in the hall behind our theatre with everyone else and ate the entire cake just the two of us. I went to my birthday dinner after that and ate pretty much all of it. I can’t even eat a slice of cake now without feeling guilty and bad about my weight. Yes, the cake did bother me a little bit that day, but afterward I didn’t seem to feel the need to go run three miles and not eat for three days afterward.
I don’t understand why food continues to frighten me. Why that fear still fights to control my life. I think it was good that I was strong enough to accept the invitations and that I plan on having fun and eating the cake and ice cream and whatever junk they’ve got and not doing a thing to my diet and exercise to make up for it. We’ll see how that goes.