I was talking with someone today who has suffered from bulemia/anorexia.

We spoke about anger, loneliness, and the sense that…

If there wasn’t going to be anything like actually meaningful »relational nourishment, meaningful roles, social clades, membership… conversation, play, opportunity and creativity…

… then the whole fucking idea of physical food is like a slap in the face from the world of humans. Because if one isn’t having nourishing relationships (which are proto- and meta- physical), why would having to digest the »phyiscal abstraction of that (food) make any sense at all? It’s like an insult. ‘I have to keep eating this physical stuff, so that all the other stuff I am totally starving for… will simply continue to not happen’.

And this was a revelation. But it’s not the beginning or the end of the story. I realized that all sorts of addictive, hyper-normal behaviors are desperate attempts to both express the unspeakable poverty of our daily lives… and to »directly demonstrate to »anyone paying attention that something inhuman was going on, and would also act as a substitute for… something like meaningful self-relation.

There was so much more to this as well. And it wasn’t merely intellectual.