I know I write a lot on this blog about feeling odd, weird, whatever.

This is another one of those posts.

I went grocery shopping today. I made my little list, looked at the bargains, looked in the fridge, looked back at the list, and entered the store. It's a small-ish, basic supermarket. A decent one, to be sure, but still.

So I was there, pushing my cart around, when I saw this scrawny old lady with her little basket (not a cart) filled with sugar free foods. Which means one of two things: she's diabetic, or she has an eating disorder. Or both.

Seeing here there brought up some very strange feelings, the first being, um, jealousy. I'm buying sweets! And here her skinny ass comes waltzing in, basket filled with aspartame laced everything. I want to do that again!

No, I don't.
Yes, I do.

Fake chemical factors aside, it's hard for me to buy things that may be perceived as unhealthy. Yes, I worry about what the zitty, hormonal, and horny checkout boy might thing of my cart contents. And the other customers. It's this horrible fear that I will be judged and come up wanting. Part of that is inevitable. I don't want people to like me as much as I want them to think highly of me. When I'm into the eating disorder, it goes something like this: fine, think I'm an anorexic bitch, doesn't bother me all that much. But I'm strong. I have willpower. Screw you.

My groceries, when I'm into hard-core restricting mode, look something like this:

7 cartons sugar free, fat free yogurt
lettuce
apples
lite bread
baby carrots
condiments galore
box of Sweet 'N Low

Ta da! That's it.

Today I bought

several varieties of meat
cheese
crackers
cereal
coffee creamer (the yummy flavored stuff)
fruit
noodle side dish thingy (it's quick and easy. That's all that matters)
and a couple of other things

Granted, I didn't have much independently useful food left. Spaghetti and peanut butter. Things like that. And no, I didn't combine them for dinner tonight. It was leftovers for this urban legend.

But that's a pretty normal looking cart. Not that there's a "normal looking" grocery cart, but it wouldn't attract undue attention from passers-by.

I don't really want to go back to the days of the eating disorder, at least not when I really think about it. Like really think about it, not just fantasize and gloss over the shitty parts like the failing heart, trips to the ER, medical bills that keep piling up. Small details like that. At the end of the day, I like the calm and numbness that comes from not eating. Does it feel like control? Maybe. No. Sometimes. I don't care what it feels like after a while. As long as I can escape the crazy in my head.

The factor that absolutely cinches the deal is that I will eventually have to face the insanity that is my brain, so I may as well get it over with.

I don't know what it's like to have a brain that's not totally tripped out all the time. I started suffering from anxiety/OCD full-time when I was 13. That's, like, half my life. I was anxious to begin with, but that's when it crossed the line from quirkiness to pathological. And that's the way it's been. It used to upset me, but I can't do a damn thing about it, so I may as well move on. It is what it is. I am doing much better now, but still I struggle.

At least now, I have groceries for the week. And the checkout girl didn't appear to give a damn.