I'm starting to wonder if my boyfriend has had a stroke, or something. He's been in bed since Saturday. He told me Wednesday night that he hadn't eaten since Friday. I finally got him to drink a protein drink and I fed him some soup yesterday. (As in fed it to him, toddler stylee.) He ate some carrots I fed to him, too, and drank three glasses of orange juice. When I told him that he needs to start eating again he laughed at me because I have an ED and my opinion on his not eating just makes me a hypocrite. Last night when I got in bed he was crying and called his (deceased) father a son of a bitch for making him an alcoholic, then he proposed to me and started groping me, asking if I had time for a fuck. No. I got home from work today and I told him if he didn't get in my car so I could take him to the hospital, I was going to call an ambulance. He pulled himself together enough to take my phone from me. Now I'm drinking rum and chain smoking on my porch because Fuck This Shit.