Sometimes I tell myself that I made the whole thing up. Then, I pretend for the rest of the day that I don’t care about gaining weight at all. I eat Muenster cheese and crackers and sit on the couch watching television mindlessly, ignoring the rush of thoughts that whisper, but you didn’t run enough today to eat that, you’re going to be twice your size by Christmas! I ignore all of them and wonder, since I successfully ignored them, if I did make it all up. I try to tell myself that must be impossible, because if it were the case, I only made it up for myself, and well, what in the world is the point of that?

It’s very confusing to be confused about confusion.