i stare at my plate. there are so many colors, so many choices. why did i put so much food on here? no way i can eat it all. they say it's what i need. i say they're wrong. but if only i can find the strength to try i may make it through.

resolve. i will eat.

fork and knife scrape against glass making me cringe.

as if i needed anything else to make it harder.

my fingers shake. i groan inwardly when i can't get my fork to hold the meat. must be a sign that i shouldn't eat it.

no. there are no signs. only truths.

i put the food in my mouth. i congratulate myself. small victory. now chew.

a few bites later I am me again. The seasoning spreads through my mouth and I enjoy it for the first time in forever. Is this what I've been missing? I must get back to this.

The others around me are having a good time. I don't know them yet, but I join their moment. It seems the best way to make it through. Distract myself. I laugh and crack jokes, make my way into the conversation when there's an opening. This feels more like me. I hope she continues to show herself.

I look back at my plate.

Mistake.

There is so much food left. I've taken so many bites yet i have an entire plate to go. did i even eat anything? my stomach begs me to stop, but I know it needs more so I load my fork.

my chest tightens as i chew. i can't breathe despite my lungs functioning properly. i am in danger. i stop and take deep breaths to slow my heart but it keeps rattling against its cage. if i keep going it might destroy me.

But i have to keep going. If I don't, the other me wins.

Food is medicine. It tastes delicious. I am not in danger.

I am safe.

I put more food on my fork and start again, this time armed with a shield