Confessions of a Book Store Owner

ohmygawd. my guts and my joints hurt so bad. fuck you, Girl Scout Cookies. fuck you. One Million Mothers was right, you ARE fucking satanic. 

That sounds like it should be redundant, but every single gluten-free eggplant parmesan recipe I’ve found calls for gluten-free flour.

-_-

Can I please just make it with cornflakes or gluten-free cracker crumbs or SOMETHING?

I did a stupid stupid thing last night.

I ate pizza.

I wanted it so bad. My hands hurt too much to explain why. I just was tired of looking at things I can’t have. So I ate a piece of pizza.

Today is bad. My hands are little claws that cramp in the middle and my arms and knees stay bent and shuffling along hurts so bad. Everything is sore.

Never again.

what

i ate an entire gluten-free pizza and a large peppermint milkshake from Braum’s yesterday

how did i lose two pounds

PROBABLY BECAUSE I AM FUCKING MALNOURISHED

I fucking hate them.

all I want out of life is a good cookie.

I am such a special fucking sick snowflake. 

Last night I dreamed I was eating Danishes and ravioli.

This is the third night in a row I’ve dreamed about carbs.

Is that sad?

I just spent like forty five minutes browsing the Taco Bell website.

A lot of that time was spent playing with the little bell that makes a bell noise when you mouse over it, but I was also looking at the menu to see if I can actually EAT anything on it.

I can’t.

Seriously what is the point in even being alive if you can’t eat wheat.

that reminds me

this morning after we got stoned, we went to IHOP.

I got an ice cream sundae and a philly cheese steak

I dismantled the meat, cheese, and onions from the bread, put it on the ice cream, and poured the butter pecan syrup over the whole thing.

My excuse was that if I don’t keep it interesting by making creations like butter pecan philly cheese steak ice cream sundaes, I will just get so incredibly bored of eating that I’ll stop completely.

I use Celiac disease as an excuse for everything. 

Sometimes I wonder if the whole thing was a complete accident and not intentional at all. 

I’m thinking about this because I’ve been crying a lot. A diet low in carbohydrates causes a decrease in seratonin production. Because celiac disease may be aggravating my lupus, I can’t eat anything with gluten. No wheat. Essentially, no carbs. I cry a lot. 

I still eat other stuff, though.

But here’s the thing. If you continuously restrict calories— not just carbs, but calories— at some point, you stop having emotions. All the little neurotransmitters and hormones and stuff can’t work right if you’re malnourished, so they just give up. If you stop eating, you stop feeling.

Maybe if you’re sad all the time, not feeling anything is a relief. Maybe your brain likes being numb. So what do you do? Do you stop eating? Nahh, that’s crazy. No one in their right mind wants to starve. But your brain wants to be numb. It’s addicted to it. So what does it do? It convinces you you’re fat. It convinces you that you need to starve. You stop eating, the emotions stop happening, your brain gets what it wants. But you’re never thin enough— you can’t start eating again, or you’ll have to feel things. (This is your brain’s fault. Your brain tricked you.)

And I’m thinking about this now because I am sad. I was gluten intolerant for seven years, and anorexic for the last five. Of course it’s easy to mask an eating disorder when you can’t eat gluten— I mean it’s in everything— but it’s also easier to start. You can’t eat Taco Bell or cake, so what’s the point in eating, and next thing you know, you can’t stop.

So, you know.

Nothing like a boyfriend who will go get you ice cream cake and cut off the cookie part so you won’t accidentally eat something with wheat in it when you’re stoned and have the munchies after being too sick to eat for days.