I ate breakfast. I was eating sugary foods beforehand. I felt like my thoughts were taking over and so was my good judgment. I was battling the strong desire to eat everything in sight or at least stop at the store and purchase all the foods I was avoiding.
I've lost 27 pounds. I've lost 11 pounds so far this year. What is going on inside of me?
Then I remembered. It could be the dreams I've been having. Dreams about Bonnie. Dreams about death. Dreams about her husband dying. Dreams about grieving. Dreams about our friendship dying. The sadness I feel now that I'm more conscious than I was a few years ago when I left.
How do I deal with a loss I caused that was based on supportive behavior she was slowly backing away from? How do I deal with the loss of someone I loved, someone who was my best friend? How do I grieve a friendship that I thought was unbreakable only to find out the truth: I wasn't worth waiting or fighting for?
I don't know. These dreams are repetitious. The same content, similar relationships, same ages, same kids with kids, sorrow and sadness, questions without answers.
I don't like these dreams. Each time I have them I want to kill the pain with food. We worked hard at our friendship at the beginning to repair some damage. When that was fixed, the rest was good. I loved her children - all seven of them. I cared for and respected her husband.
None of them understood me. None of them wanted to understand me. I was too difficult, too strange, too sick to be let around them. I'd gone from treasured to trash.
Never do that to someone who has mental illness.
Never.
