We are growing thinner.  I really don’t care.

Last we weighed ourselves was at the doctor.  We noticed we are at the bottom of our BMI index.  We weigh less even now.  He didn’t have our chart.  They had lost the thing.  So he didn’t notice.

That was fine by us.  We won’t see him again until August unless we need our meds filled again.  Maybe he’ll notice by then; we really aren’t into caring, though he is a caring doctor.  Just too busy for us – for anyone, I’m thinking.  Damn medical system gone wrong; poor caring doc: overworked and overpaid.  Though Medicare pays him nothing (he says.)  Seventy cents on the dollar.  Seems more than what we are getting these days.

We would use the scale we were using sometimes here at home.  But our wife took it away.  She didn’t want to be reminded of how fat she has become (though she is not fat; it is just midage thickening.  I guess you could call ours mid age thinning.  Thinning until we are a ghost sometimes.  That way you could look right through us.  Not noticing and seeing us standing there.  That would be good sometimes.)

I can see the bones in my hands.  We can’t “pinch an inch”.  We can’t even pinch a quarter one.

We had some bread left over from something the wife gave us.  We were going to make ourselves the sandwich.  The bread was moldy so we threw it away.

Then we told ourselves that the sandwich was good and filling; that it filled us up all the way.

and we were not hungry anymore.  It was a good sandwich we were eating; that sandwich made of thin air.

We walked to our room.  I noticed we were staggering down the hall.  So we concentrated on not staggering.  We are much better now.

I have opened a can of soup.  Campbells chicken and things.  We are eating it.  I ate half of it.  We eat straight out of the can; cold and all.  Condensed thing.  Kinda becoming like us.  Condensed into our own body.

I go outside.  The sun making me dizzy.  But it’s not the sun we know.  It’s from not eating anymore.

We are fine but somewhat troubled in that.  We know why but not the reasons.  And that is okay too.  Acceptance is a bitch once you get the thing.

We aren’t going to the grocery store; I’m thinking we might pass out on the way; or vision grow too fuzzy or something.  But that’s okay, too.  There is food at my house.  Beans and things.  Things my wife has bought for her.  I eat them too.  Some of them are good and nutritious.  But who wants to eat a can of yams? Or a jar of peas?

We waste no food so we don’t go there.  And all the bread is gone.

I am thinking we have hit our final BMI.  Can’t go to much lower.  Must go on living, you see?  That’s what everyone keeps telling us so it’s so.  We take our vitamen and call it a meal.  The can of soup stands waiting.  We have only held a few bites inside.  The rest we are going to go on leaving.  Perhaps we will get hungry some more.  I’m gonna eat the thing.  See that thing about wasting food: something we never do (but our wife does it all the time – throwing things out we are eating.)

We have some salad; some spinach leaves.  But those are rotten.  The wife buys them and then doesn’t cook them.  Those are for some recipe she made.  Only she never cooked them.  They lay in the refrigerator rotting.  I’m going to leave them alone.  Let her find them.  They are for her recipe and we aren’t touching anything for her recipes.  Never ever and again.  Oh well.

There are some birds outside; I am hungry but not, thinking: they are eating better than we do.  Maybe I can learn something from them.

A ghost.  That’s what I’m becoming; and a quite real one at that.  A single ghost in a single soul with a single body.

And I’m kinda hating that thing.  I’m thinking it’s because the brain is shutting down.  Trying to conserve energy and things.

I think I’ll go out and do some walking.  Energy does the body good.  And we need some.  From the sun.

and don’t worry.  I’ll be fine.  Just fine and dandy as rocks in a garden.  Growing thinner all the time.  Fading away into nothing – which again, is quite fine by us.

It sounds like a good time.


About jeffssong

JW is an adult childhood abuse survivor with DID*. He grew up in a violent family devoid of love and affection. He is a military brat and veteran. He no longer struggles with that past. In 1976 JW began writing "The Boy". It took 34 years to complete. It is currently on Kindle ( ), or if you prefer hard copy, on Amazon ( JW resides somewhere in the deep South. He is disabled and living with family. Note: Please feel free to take what you need; all is free to all. With that in mind, keep it that way to others. Thank you. We have 3 Blogs - One for our younger days, 0-10 (The Little Shop of Horrors); one for our Teen Alter and his 'friends' (also alters) with a lot of poetry; and finally "my" own, the Song of Life (current events and things)
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