I don't want to talk about it. After the other night, I ended up sitting down with him and asking the sort of questions I wasn't sure I'd get a chance to ask.
The transcript is here, and the fucker didn't leave /anything/ out. Even the stuff I would've preferred to keep quiet.
I'd be rather pissed, except it's kind of nice having him concerned enough to do this crap.
For those of you concerned enough to wonder, yes I'm still miserable, no I'm not going to do anything drastic, and yes I've got the drinking under control, thank you. Also, despite what it sounds like, I'm not deliberately starving myself, I just have no fucking appetite.
I'm fine, really. Just fine.