Shrinkage 4

I weighed myself this morning after a hiatal few weeks. My scale had dust bunnies on it. I weigh myself only when i think i have lost. I was right. I am back down to my low.

I was very pleased with myself. Somehow i need that pseudo-achievement to be convinced i am not a bad person. Even though i know full well emaciation is not emancipation.

About two weeks ago when i was chatting with some guy who fit the stereotype of "all muscles and no brain", he asked how much i weighed.

"I haven't weighed myself in weeks," i confessed. "But i'm gonna say probably 115."

"Good!" He replied. "I was afraid you were bony!"

"But i am bony," i responded, slightly offended.

It is true these are just numbers. Meaningless really. Just as thinness is meaningless. Some may think i pass for 90 - who knows. In terms of poundage, not age : )

Last Saturday when i met up with Taylor, at one point he picked up my left wrist to examine it. I thought he was marveling at the tininess. Not until the next day did i realize he was checking for scars.

So many disorders, so little time. : )