Insanity looms large.

I found out, not too long ago, that an eating disorder was a mental illness. I never thought of it that way. But how can it not be? It's insane to CHOOSE not to eat.

I am the single mother of 3 with a job that involves a very long commute, a lot of money for gas and a paycheck that arrives whenever. We are going through a tough time financially the likes of which I have not seen since I was a single mother the first time. But, I can still pay my electric bill and put food on the table. I can occasionally send money to my daughter in college and we have counted on the help of very close friends, who I'm so very grateful to.

I consider my childhood one of privilege.  I went to the best private schools, a private university, had a brand new car and never remember needing anything. But somehow, I always felt uncomfortable with it all. My second husband grew up poor and while we were married, he worked very hard to have "things", which he did for everyone around him to see what he had. 
I taught my children to dislike material possessions and to see that "stuff" really didn't mean anything. They learned well, never took their things for granted and never put much importance on the "stuff" they did have.
They see how difficult it is for us at the moment and they continue to be grateful for what they do have and they see how much more difficult others around them have it. Some of my teenaged son's friends cannot pay for their own school lunches and the spare change he has in his pocket he gladly shells out for his best friend's meal. 
There are people going to the shelters to get food and many of the charitable organizations are struggling to feed the community. 

But I still choose not to eat. I make that my decision.  That is my mental illness. Choosing to do something that others are begging to do.  It's just as bad as having "things" so those who aren't as well of can see how good I have it.  It's ridiculous to hear myself say "let me see if I can eat a slice of toast today." 
That is insanity. 

How insane is it to volunteer with my boys at the rescue mission and be offered to sit with them all and choose not to eat? How does that even begin to make sense?

What good does it do to teach my children to value themselves and not their "things" when I am choosing this? I am insane. I beg the divine universe that my insanity does not get in the way of what I have instilled in my children. I am no better than those who see "stuff" as something of value. I am my DISorder.