Whining, Sniveling, and Feeling Sorry For Myself

Okay, I just have to say that today was being REALLY HAPPY for me, because my kids got home from New York, and we've been talking and playing and hugging--and then my bishop called.

So I told him, no, I can't be the RS President. So, of course, he asked why. So I said Darrin doesn't want me to. So he asked why. So I said because I was irresponsible, derelict and unstable. So he asked me to elaborate. So I had to tell him that this is day four of not eating, and Darrin made me promise not to run this morning because I have this uncontrollable shaking thing going on, and I just think taking a major calling when I'm falling apart is a bad idea. So he said he agreed, and that I should thank my husband and look on this as a wake-up call that I'm not "better", and I should get some help. So, thank you, bishop, for stating the obvious.

And I just have to say--THIS ISN'T SOMETHING I'M CHOOSING TO DO!!!!!!! I don't know why looking at food makes me want to gag. I don't know why I want so badly to feel that feeling that has come--I feel strong, in control, capable of anything--and the whole time my hands shake and there's this instability about the firmament beneath my feet. I don't know why, suddenly, death seems a viable option. I don't know why...anything...

I'm going to bed. Darrin insists that things will be better in the morning. I hope so. Right now I really hate myself.