slowly, this illness is releasing its grip on me. i sleep past eight most mornings, reliably scarf down three meals a day. sugar is once again a possibility. and oh, the wonders of homemade nut milk, alchemized into iced, caffeine-free lattes. i relish the fact that i no longer stand for hours on end as a necessity, compulsively chart my body's comings and goings. my daily rituals are guided not by the stricture of routine but the organic ebbs and flows of my appetite. this precarious freedom has come at a high price and the road ahead winds into the misty unknown. but dear god, i'll take it.