My friend is lying very sick in bed, and I'm feeling awfully responsible. We smoked some weed last night, and had some wine, and binged completely. I feel sick at the thought that maybe it's my disordered eating, and the amount of food that I must have passively encouraged her to eat with me that has made her feel this way. Because what I often don't realize is that my idea of 'normal' isn't actually normal. I eat either nothing at all or entirely too much, I don't have that middle radar that others do.

A part of me is looking forward to Tuesday, back to not eating, back to fragility. I hate food.