Sick Like Me

I am thirty two years old.
I am thirty two years old, and I am married.
I am thirty two years old. I am married. I have health insurance. I am paying down my debt. I can afford to buy groceries and pay my utilities. I have a dog and a cat.
Why then?
Why the fuck is it so hard to feed myself like a grown up?

Beard and I have completely off schedules right now, and, since I depend so heavily on other people's schedules to regulate meal times and the way that I manage my disordered eating, I have been left to my own devices for so long the way I eat has completely flown off the rails.

Today I got up with an outrageous back pain. I did something yesterday that tweaked it entirely the wrong way, and I barely slept all night.
I had a terrible dream.
I woke up and waited for the alarm to go off.
My morning routine is usually as follows:
6:00am get up.
6:10am thirty minutes of yoga
6:45am shower, get dressed, chug 16oz of water.
7:30am leave the house
walk the 2.7 miles to work.
8:15 arrive at work.
9am first coffee of the day
Right now my coffee is a three shot americano with an ounce of skim milk and about half an ounce of the super treaty eggnog we're getting from the dairy one town over. I don't need sugar thanks to this treaty thing, but I get all kinds of liberal with the cinnamon and nutmeg.
Usually I don't have time to eat until 1pm, but today I was ravenous at 11am.
It was slow, so I put together a salad: greens, cukes, about a cup of roasted cherry tomatoes, olives, and balsamic dressing, a couple of slices of mozzarella.
I ate it in about fifteen minutes.
Two hours later, still ravenous, I ate a sourdough olive roll. It was singed at the edges, and the salad had been a little acidic for my stomach, so eating the bread settled it which was nice.
I was then able to take a couple of pain pills for my back, which was feeling pretty wretched at that point.
Normally, I stay until a little after four in the afternoon, but the medicine barely touched my back pain, so I took off at three instead. Normally, also, I walk the 2.7 miles home again, but luckily Beard had the day off, so he came to pick me up.
If I left work like I usually do on Mondays, I would have stopped at the store on the way home and bought the makings for our dinner, and I wouldn't have gotten in until 5:30pm. I would have taken the dog out, made dinner, and been ready to eat with the man when he got home at 6:30.
Today i boiled the kettle and made a pot of tea. Then I lay on the floor while watching a terrible movie and rolled a tennis ball in the knot in my back.
I drank three huge cups of tea with milk and honey.
The last one I dribbled a little bit of baileys into, and then didn't finish it because it just didn't taste good.
Around five I got hungry.
Of course there was nothing to eat, so I did some scrounging.
I ended up eating 2 morning star farms vegetarian corndogs and half a bag of cape cod potato chips.
Craving something sweet, I pawed through the contents of the fridge, but there was nothing appealing, so I tried my hand at a mug cake.
I mashed up an overripe banana with a spoonful of brown sugar, an egg white, some vanilla, cinnamon,  and a couple of spoonfuls of flour. I nuked the sucker for three minutes, and broke up a cube of dark chocolate over the top when it came out of the microwave. When the chocolate melted I drizzled a spoonful of milk over the top, and took a spoon to the bitch.

I forced myself to drink another glass and a half of water.
Now I feel full...
Not overfull, but my brain keeps telling me that I overate. That I am a pig, and my appetite is out of control.

I don't know anymore.
Writing it down here, it doesn't look that bad. I certainly feel like there are plenty of people who eat more than that on a regular basis, but i also don't have the slightest clue if it was good for me.
I'm sure the chips were not a good choice.
...
Maybe we'll document a few more of these days, since nobody reads this anyway, I have nothing to be ashamed of, and perhaps I can examine the evidence and figure out a way back from this fucked up mindset of disordered control and eating chaos.