I'm one of those people that tends to just laugh at all my problems. Laughing and making jokes is much easier than having uncomfortable emotions.
When I make plans and think about my future, I figure I'll either be successful or dead. And if I'm dead, it doesnt really matter because I won't feel anymore.
The problem is, I never think about dying. I don't think about how painful burning a hole through my esophagus would be. I don't think about what it would be like for my stomach to rupture. I don't think about how awful chemo treatments would be if I developed esophageal cancer.
I also don't think about my family. I've resigned to the idea that I might not outlive my parents. But I don't think my parents have. I know I won't outlive my friends.
But what about my 80-something year old grandmother? I want to spend the summer with her next year, if she's still alive. What if I'm not?
That's the thing about eating disorders. You're okay until you aren't. And I've been okay for quite some time. And now I'm less okay. I'm on stomach medications and orthovitals aren't great. But I'm okay-ish.
And I don't know when I won't be.
And I'm scared.