Paper Thin

Shallow breaths are all I need. Feeling hungry is satisfying. If I can take in tiny sips of air and spend most of the daytime feeling the effects of eating a minimal amount of food, I can almost disappear. Just a slip of person, thin as paper. No matter my physical weight, I nearly disappear. When my self requires little and it’s just a wisp, I may absent responsibility and release myself to just be, not trying to “get better” or “have fun.” A handful of minutes in the hours in the day, maybe I can get distracted from pain, nausea, vertigo, cognitive impairment, etc. My stomach growls to remind me it wants food, and that reinforces my desire to be nearly nothing. My brain wants to predict everything that will happen at the disability hearing scheduled for Thursday, on the phone, but I’d rather be still. Quietness, shedding trappings of opinions and personality. Becoming minimal. I feel peace there.