coping skills

I had my first dbt group tonight with Shish and another T. I was initially hesitant about this for a number for reasons but it wasn't so bad. I wasn't too fond about the idea of spending two hours with Shish on the subject matter of food and binges and purges and so there was quite a bit of anxiety but it wore off by the time the class was over. I also feared being the biggest person in the group. And I was. It's so frustrating for Shish or anyone else for that matter to tell me that binging and purging isn't effective when I can see with my own two eyes that it is working quite well for the other three women in the group. I felt really uncomfortable for about the first hour and during the break I went outside to put on a few more sweaters. Technically, it was pretty cold in the classroom, but also to try to hide a bit more as well. And I had done a little reading beforehand about DBT being used primarily for people with borderline personality disorder and so I had to deal with that as well. But back to group -- it was intimidating for all those reasons and then of course there was a graduate student and I felt ashamed because that's no longer something I can say. And it was also intimidating because one of the girls is really pretty and I wish stuff like that didn't matter. It's not like I'm used to being around girls who aren't pretty. It's just sort of weird when that girl has an eating disorder. I don't know why...

But all in all it wasn't that bad. I had already given myself an out and told myself if I didn't like group then I would quit but thankfully the girls are all just like me. Bulimic. In recovery. It's insane how someone can take the words RIGHT out of your mouth and it felt good to be in the physical company of women who understand and experience the exact same things I experience on a day to day basis. It's also very comforting because we're pretty much all in the same place recovery wise. Still actively binging and purging. Three of us are pretty much around the same age although there is a woman in the group who's a little older than my mother so I'm sure she feels the most awkward. And strangely enough that also was comforting because then I realized we were all sitting there with our hangups about why we were at that table and then near the end I was actually glad I was at that table. Even after just one session, I'm glad we're all in the class together, doing the only thing we can to live a better life. Try.

So let me back up a bit and say that I'm one of those students who shows up to class having done the assignment and is completely prepared, however I never participate. It goes way back to when I was a little kid and my teachers would send letters home saying that I never raised my hand in class to answer the questions. It actually got even worse in college when I would present ideas in papers and the professors would call me into their office because they wished I would have brought along that insight into the discussion. The only problem is...that's just not me. Sometimes it happens. I'll force myself to get involved in the discussion when I know participation is a part of the grade, but otherwise I feel like it's something someone else can/will say and if by chance it never comes up...Oh well. So today everyone was participating. One girl a little more so than others, but that's always the case, and I of course was completely mute. I'm sure Shish expected this just as I expect that she will bring it up on Thursday so I know I already need to be prepared to talk about that. What's worse though...is being called on. And although that didn't happen today, I swear I had this nagging sensation every time a discussion topic came up that she was just itching to call on me. I hate being put on the spot like that but I suppose next week I'll have to share (you'll find out why in a minute).

We learned about diaphragmatic breathing today. Actually, because one of my roommates is studying clinical psychology she sent me the audio track of it last semester to calm my nerves down during my trial competition. It actually worked too! Except today I couldn't really get into it because I had just walked in and compared myself to everyone else in the room and was feeling quite anxious about resting my hand against my stomach. Hello!!! Stomach=trigger for a lot of people with eating disorders!!! So here's why I'll have to talk next week...the homework: We have to do a chain analysis of events that lead to the binge. So far so good. I'm totally okay with doing that. The girls were really open and honest and I feel as if that will help me to get there too but it also means I'll have to expose some things like...what might make me vulnerable to a binge? How about the fact that I restrict all day. Yeah. Oh and then we have to share our deepest thoughts and feelings about the binge. My first thought was, "I'm not doing that." And as if she read my mind Shish said that anyone who didn't share that would much rather just do the assignment than the alternative. And the way she pushes and never lets up, especially with something like that, I know I don't want to go through that in front of the rest of the group. The other assignment, about emotions and feelings and I feel like...

I'm checked out of that. I don't feel much. Honestly. Maybe I'm just not in tune with my emotions. Maybe I'm protecting myself (and for good reason, right?) because when I do tap into what I'm feeling it's rage, it's intense, it really is out of control. I actually felt like in that aspect I couldn't relate to the women in the group who felt like they lived in their emotion mind (rather than the reason mind or wise mind). I don't know quite where I fit. Definitely not the wise mind. Not in the reason mind either though. Do I make decisions impulsively? Do I calculate everything so that it logically seems like the right thing to do? I don't believe I end up making decisions in my life. It seems to me that my inability to make a decision because I don't want to be reckless and because I don't want to face the consequences...I let things happen to me. And I know that's no way to live but...at least I'm realizing it now. Hopefully this means I'll start making some decisions. Wise decisions.

im actively looking for an apartment starting tomorrow morning.

It's crazy to think that things in life can change in just a matter of days. Or A day for that matter. But I guess I need to get used to that.

Last night my sister came over and is interested in opening up her own franchise. Well, I offered to look over everything for her and help her out by watching the baby or even working (for pay) if she needed me too. But she was actually looking for a business partner instead and well...we're sisters. Not friends. Not even like cousins. We fight ALL the time. How on Earth did that seem like a good idea to her? So I told her that I'd think about it and that I'd obviously need some time to save up money to invest if it was something I wanted to pursue. In all actuality, I actually wanted to own a franchise some day. Not today. Not tomorrow. And those plans never included her...but I still appreciate the fact that she came to me. She had a meeting with someone who works for the corporation today and let me say this in the nicest possible way ever: My sister has no business sense. Personally, I lack business sense as well. I don't even balance my checking account. I can't tell you how many times a month I overdraft on my account (but fortunately it's connected to a savings account) but I don't even take the time to transfer funds from one account to the other online! I don't have a budget. I spend money like it's fucking free. I need to get my life together most DEFINITELY when it comes to finances and sometimes it's overwhelming...but at least I don't do credit cards!

So when I decided that I didn't want to join her at this meeting because well...I would never want to be in business WITH her. That kind of relationship is like a marriage and I sure as hell would NEVER want to marry someone like my sister. Obviously she flipped out on me and provided enough basis for my reasoning that we can't even get along two days in a row, never mind managing a franchise which involves money and work ethic and responsibilities that quite frankly I know I'm not ready for and she is not ready for. I understand that from her perspective, because she's maybe not the smartest cookie in the car that she would want someone to help her out. I understand. But that doesn't become my responsibility. It doesn't.

Things took a turn for the worse when she told me and our mother that she was going to move home (with her 18 month old son) to save money to put towards the capital investment. And being absolutely serious...I had to explain to her what "capital investment" was. And you know the little letter that comes after the number, like K? So for example, 15K -- yeah. She totally didn't get how that meant fifteen thousand. So yes, she needs help at the very least but again...not my problem. My recommendation, take a business class at the local community college. Or I don't know, pick up a book? So we have a three bedroom house and it's already full. My mother, me, the two dogs, and Jay on the weekends who is transitioning into sleeping in his own room because, yes, at six years old he still sleeps with either me or his grandmother. I'm actually supposed to be clearing out the third bedroom and finding a place for all of my stuff which has taken over every closet in the house, the dining room area, parts of my mother's room, MY room, and the other room...so where would extra people live? It's absolutely ridiculous but my sister started in on how it's so unfair that I get to move home and live rent free and take up all the extra space but she's not allowed to move home.

Um...hello? I brought stuff. And a dog. She'll come with stuff and a baby and although I'm not exactly the easiest person to live with these days, my sisters mood swings are really out of control. There is no way in hell that unless there were some sort of emergency that she should be allowed to live with anyone else in the family. I mean, she doesn't have her older son for good reasons! So my mother, not wanting to piss my sister off says that she can move in the house and that my mom will move out! WHAT THE FUCK? Hell no. First of all, that would never happen. I'm not going to be forced into paying the mortgage with my sister just because she wants to move in. And maybe I'm not making things clear here but...

1. Currently I am not paying rent. I'm paying for therapy and my car and my cell phone and food and gas and soon I'll have to pay Sallie Mae. Gotta love her, right?

2. I fully intend on contributing to the household by paying for utilities when I get a full time permanent job. And I'll buy groceries.

3. I know I am not entitled to move home at 24 and freeload but...my father lived here for 5 years and didn't give my mother a single dime. Like ever.

So when she came to talk to me about a better solution today...me paying rent so that my sister could "feel better" about this whole me living at home for free thing I snapped. I went ballistic. I was sobbing and snotting and I worked myself up so much that I actually threw up. Because that's not FAIR! How does SHE get to call the shots? And it also pissed me off that my mom was all like...and it was just like this.

1. What really happened in Richmond?
2. Can you go back to school if you wanted to?
3. Why did you drop out?
4. You need to start giving me money.

WHATTTTTTTTTTTT. First of all, I'm so fucking tired of the first three questions. It's almost fucking April. She asks me like every two weeks, "what really happened in Richmond?" What the fuck does she want me to say? I don't get it! I really don't. I have already said, NOTHING HAPPENED. I CHOSE RECOVERY. YES I CAN GO BACK. WHY THE FUCK DO I KEEP REPEATING MYSELF.

And yes. I said fuck to my mother. I also said...you're really pissing me off. I can't take this shit. You have no idea how fucking bad you make me feel. And I was screaming and crying and she was all, stop crying. You overreact. It's not about the money.

And then I flipped because then she was just lying. Like um, you came in here talking about why did I drop out and how I owe her money. How I wasted her money by even going to law school in the first place. LIKE I DONT ALREADY FEEL GUILTY AS FUCK ABOUT THAT. DID SHE HAVE TO SAY IT. LIKE I ALREADY DONT FEEL LIKE THE BIGGEST WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT ALL ON MY OWN. DO I REALLY NEED HER MAKING THINGS WORSE. And yeah, her saying all of that to me, because of MY SISTER was the prime example of how I don't fucking matter to her. That yes, my mother would do anything for me, short of piss my sister off. Because if it came down to choosing it would never be a choice. It's just automatic. That she can offer some bogus plan like making us live together...or making me pay rent...to pacify my sister rather than just telling her -- NO. YOU CANNOT COME HOME. YOU CANNOT LIVE HERE BECAUSE THERE IS NO ROOM. And I know it must be hard for her to say no to HER but oh my God. NO ONE CAN SAY NO to HER...

But my mom can say no to me! She can say FUCK YOU ERIN! FUCK WHAT YOU WANT. FUCK WHAT YOU NEED. FUCK YOU...YOU OWE ME because now that you're here I've chosen YOU and kicked out the love of my life for YOU and now my FAVORITE daughter is upset because I don't want to end up raising her OTHER kid.

So maybe I'm overreacting. It isn't absurd that I pay rent. It's not. It's just the fucking way it happened. Like because SHE has a hissy fit that I don't pay rent, my mother's all like you should pay rent. Yeah. Yeah. You should. Even though after we got diVORCED I let my ex-husband move in and took care of him for five years and didn't ask him for money. I didn't harass him to get a job. I didn't tell him he OWED me ANYTHING. BUT YOU ERIN...YOU OWE ME.

And like seriously...she just walked into my room and asked if we could hug. FOR WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK would a HUG do? and so i said the only thing i could say, "get away from me."

because that's really what I want. I want to just get away from all of this. from him and her and her and i just want to be done. i just want to fucking run away from this entire family and wake up and not remember a single day that ive had with any of them. not if the good came with the bad...and let's face it, it always does. and there's just enough good to make up for the fact that i know i am always in LAST place when it comes to her. LAST place.

my chest still hurts from sobbing for over an hour. i still feel shaky and it's been five hours. im still seething with anger and hurt and frustration and sadness and because it will make her feel better, she wants to hug. but there is no fucking hug that will make any of this go away is there? no...there's not. not for me. because i hold grudges. i don't forgive. i can scream and shout at her and it's still NOT enough. i can let it all out and there's still more to get out. so how the FUCK does not keeping it all in make it any better?

an intense session

I'm feeling a lot of different things right now:

Anger: I feel that on some level Shish set me up today with my meeting with the Doctor. I don't want to make a big deal about it but I also don't want to not say anything either. I meet with the Doctor either every two to four weeks depending on my medication dosages. Since the initial meeting she has never ever done an exam and I've never had to get undressed. Nor has she weighed me since December. Today a resident came in (this isn't abnormal) and asked me the usual questions since this was our first time meeting. He brought in the scale which was a big no no for me. Particularly because once I know the number I totally obsess over it and have to know it all the time. I wonder if it's going up or down and I know how bad this is for me. It's good enough for me to know that today I wore a pair of pants that I hadn't been able to fit since 2005. I still didn't feel comfortable in them because they weren't oversized but...Anyway, I've digressed. Then he asked me to sit up on the bed to listen to my lungs and heartbeat. Still routine. Honestly, I wasn't even thinking anything at this point when he asked me to lie down. And then he lifted my shirt!!! Like without even saying anything and I immediately jumped up. I was FURIOUS. How dare he?!?! Even the doctor had never done that. Even with the first exam I made it perfectly clear that there were some parts of my body that were never exposed and HERE HE WAS and I just was NOT expecting that. And then I had to explain myself and THAT is how I felt like Shish set me up. I feel like she TOLD the Doctor during their meeting today to give me an "exam." I don't know. To look me over or something. I just had that sneaky suspicion that something was up. Thankfully the resident dropped it after a few questions and reassurances on my behalf that it was nothing and he didn't mention it to the Doctor. So in that sense, I'm not sure what to think. If he had certain intentions with that pseudo exam then he certainly didn't share them with me or the Doctor because she just came in and talked to me about how she wasn't going to push the scale today but that I need to be prepared to weigh again in the near future. Whatever.

But I want to call Shish out on it. I really do. If she did toss some hints out at the Doctor I'd be really really pissed off!!! But if she didn't then it doesn't matter at all and I don't need to bring it up. But would she tell me the truth? I don't think she'd lie. What would I do then though? Refuse to talk to her?

Anxiety: I start my first group skills meeting with Shish and another therapist and two other girls on Monday. That seems really intense actually. I know it won't be as bad as I'm making it in my head and she's assured me that both the ladies in the group are really nice as is the other therapist but...I don't know. It's just sort of overwhelming to think about it happening so soon. This means that now Shish and I will be seeing each other on Mondays and Thursdays but it's just me and her on Thursdays. And I'm okay with that. I was a little reluctant about decreasing the amount of our time but hopefully she hasn't replaced my time slot with someone else and so if I don't like group for any reason then I'll just quit it and go back to twice a week with her. Also, the group session is TWO hours long. That's a long time. I don't even know what it's going to be like and so that's pretty scary in and of itself.

And today wasn't quite so bad in session. There were a couple of moments that I really got heated and uncomfortable and wanted to start crying but we didn't talk about anything really but food stuff. I wore sunglasses. The entire time. Now that I think about it, it seems so childish of me. But it's really because I couldn't face Shish. I didn't want to look her in the eye. I didn't want her to look me in the eye.

Can I wear the sunglasses to group on Monday? Everyone will surely think it's strange. It is. And the thing is...I know I should be able to take them off but it sort of felt good in a way. Being able to control how much we could connect...by wearing the sunglasses. And that's exactly what she's talking about with me. That I do these things with the yes and no and i don't know and sure answers so that I don't have to engage with her. It's how I keep her away when she's pushing me. And I know it was frustrating in a sense for her. She asked about it. Said she hoped it wasn't because I didn't want to be seen. But it kind of felt good to be able to say, "I'm wearing them. It's bright in here." Even when it was sooo incredibly dim.

And then I was glad I had them on...because at one point we were talking about the binge and I could tell she was frustrated by her tone and just by the way she was pushing and not moving on. And I FUCKING HATE THAT. If I say I don't want to talk about something...not if I'm just mute and wondering what to say or thinking about if I want to open up, but if I literally come out of my mouth and say I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE BINGE and I don't care that it diminishes the shame because it fucking doesn't! I don't want to tell you what I ate or how much or long it lasted or how many times it happened. It happened. And she just wouldn't leave it alone and I was getting really upset and I could feel the heat rising in my body and I wanted to YELL at her to leave me alone but I didn't say any of that. I just said I don't know. I can't remember.

So now my new assignment is to record EVERYTHING I eat, the time of day, and whether its a binge or if it ends up being purged. NO. NO. NO. NO. THAT's NOT FAIR. AND I HEARD HER EXPLAIN TO ME why it's necessary, so that in two weeks I can look at what I've eaten during a binge and compare it to what Cruella's given me with the meal plan and see that what I'm doing is WORSE. I GET IT. I'm not telling someone what I've eaten during a binge. It's hard ENOUGH admitting that I ever eat anything at all. When I don't NEED to. So it's no WONDER i'm FAT when she reads everything I've put into my body over the past week and I can't do that. I'm not going to do it.

So now I feel bad because I left saying that I would. I said there was nothing that would prevent me from doing it but... I'm not doing that. I can't share that. Maybe I could record it for myself...so then I could see. But she said no...that's what treatment is about. So that I can be pushed even when I'm not ready, otherwise I could just get better on my own.

I think I covered everything. I'm really upset and I really want to purge RIGHT now (because I just ate and I can feel it sitting in my stomach.) But I just feel so awful that I can't bear to make myself do it right now. My body needs a break.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH. Now i have a horrible headache...no doubt from my horrible sinuses and the rush of everything that's happened in the past 5 hours. But whatever...I need to perk up. Carolina plays tonight. GO TARHEELS!!!

under the weather...again

My college roommates always joke that I'm always sick! And it's not really a joke because out of any given month I'm sick more days than I'm not. Anytime they ask how I'm doing, they mean other than my physical health because something is always wrong. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I don't get very much nutrition. I rarely eat vegetables. And this is coming from someone who actually believes potatoes are a vegetable. I really have tried to do a better job about eating a salad a week...at least...but that hasn't happened in a really long time.

So here we go again. At first I was convinced it was just my allergies and that it's turned into a sinus infection. But the level of fatigue and body pains is just intolerable and so maybe it's the flu? Yuck...I'd hate to think that I made it this far but when I threw up literally everything I had eaten at six am this morning from the previous day (and yes...there was a binge) I thought, oh shit. I'm really sick. My stomach was bothering me all night honestly but I really wanted to make myself sit through the discomfort because it was a binge and I shouldn't have eaten all that food. Five hours later I could still feel every single bite that I swallowed and I knew that wasn't right but when I had suspicions that I was about to vomit I kind of thought it was all in my mind because I wanted to purge. Well I didn't even have the time. As soon as I jumped out of bed I felt everything rushing out and I couldn't make it in time to the toilet.

It's been over 24 hours since that binge and water and diet ginger ale have resulted in some pretty bad cramps. I think I've only been awake for four or five hours and although right now I know I don't need to eat anything because it will make me sick...I have the urge to binge. Long sigh...that's whats frustrating. I'm not even hungry and yet I'm in binge mode.

Shish tomorrow. Clearly there's anxiety about that since I opened up about a few different things and felt like I didn't want to face her. I still feel that way. I still want to run away and hide and never explore all that pain. But I know I owe it to myself to do this. I know that in five years (thanks so much for responding to that letter ae!) I will really be disappointed in myself if I don't make the right decision here. I know that I need to live my life by faith and hope in myself...and not out of fear. I know I can't say I don't believe something's impossible just because I haven't seen it happen yet. So hopefully, I wake up tomorrow and I'm willing to go in there and survive the hour and then pick up the pieces and survive the rest of the day.

One step at a time

Easter lessons from a six year old

Thursday night Jay spent the night (unexpectedly...one day I'll have to write about my sister and her failings as a mother). He convinced me to eat dinner (he's really too cute about it.) All he said was, "You need to eat. Eat. Come eat with me. You need to eat." I obliged him. Friday I let the entire day slip through my finger tips...in bed until around 3 or 4...quite amazed that the time passed by so quickly but I ended up talking to some friends and family on the phone and felt really good about that. It's really good to keep in touch with dear friends and I realize as hard as it might be sometimes for me to reach out that...it's so completely worth it to spend three hours laughing and reminiscing and catching up on other people's lives. We had another game night and Scattergories was just as intense as the last time although we kind of had a flop with the Dirty Laundry Secrets (DH) game. Saturday it was so beautiful that I decided to take both nephews to the gardens. Since it's early spring there weren't too many flowers in bloom but it was still beautiful. The kids loved it and had such a good time playing with the other kids. Jay rolled down the hills and Lee played "ball" with another little girl who I guess is about 2 years old. It's hard to tell because she didn't talk much but she is bigger than Lee. Anyways, Lee threw a fit when we left and I promised to bring him back. They were climbing on any and everything they could manage to get with their heights. The only problem was that there was one little girl who didn't want to share her ball with Lee. In fact, when her mother coaxed her into just letting him touch the ball she said, "No!" It was so sad...he ran (or waddled fast speed) after her just crying. Other than the times he wants something like food or a bottle that he can't have immediately, I have never seen him display that his feelings were hurt. I was so angry that this little girl (at least five years old and should know better) could be so mean to a baby. When I scooped him up after he'd fallen and scraped his hand from running after her I gave him a big kiss but he was not interested in me at all. He just looked at the girl with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen. And on Easter, Jay and I slept in because I hadn't planned on going to church since it's been a while for me and Jay had a fight with his mom at the gardens and didn't want to go home to her. Sometimes it breaks my heart that at six years old he is already at that stage where he loves his mother but just doesn't understand how she can be so...mean. But then I'm comforted by the fact that at least now I'm home so that when it is his mom's weekend for visitation that he can decide to stay with me and she doesn't put up a fight. The kids were really good for most of the day, playing with their Easter toys and of course we all sat around and watched UNC crush Arkansas. I took them outside after dinner to practice riding bikes but now I'm exhausted. I guess if I had to do it everyday (raising kids that is) I could do it and I would do it and I know I'd love it, but two boys are a handful. As much as I look forward to motherhood, I can definitely wait!

It wasn't until later that I realized the mistake I'd made. No...completely unrelated to food although I struggled a bit this weekend. It's spring. That I know. But for some reason I forgot that I have allergies and horrible sinuses year round. It's interesting because when I was in Georgia I was so sick that I was practically bedridden for weeks at a time and had to shower multiple times a day. But when I moved back to NC, I didn't have as bad of a reaction. Although it was no walk in the park, I could actually take a walk in the park and not feel as if my body were about to breakdown. Virginia wasn't so bad for me though. Actually, it wasn't bad at all! But now...after two days of being outdoors for longer than just the walk to the car and back...two days of running through the grass and laying on fields and playing ball and riding bikes...I'm sick.
Unfortunate because I have a lot of catch-up work to do tomorrow since I played hooky all last week. And I have a lot of other business related matters to tend to that I really need to stop putting off. So hopefully the medicine will kick in and I'll feel better in the morning. Thankfully, I have absolutely no reason to go outside tomorrow and in the unlikely event that something comes up, I will be covered up from head to toe!

Jay was somewhat confused about Easter and the celebration of Jesus' resurrection. I really wish he had gone to Sunday school because I'm not good at explaining things like this. He already knew that Jesus was crucified and that He is the son of God but he didn't understand how he could rise from the dead. He just laughed at me and said..."no one can do that. That's impossible." And I said, well that's why it's a special day because Jesus did it. Whenever something happens that Jay doesn't understand like...how the same television show can be on both upstairs and downstairs (or at his mom's house and his dad's house...and yes he will call to make sure it's on at both places) and I either don't know the answer or can't figure out a way to explain it to a six year old, I say it's magic. So of course...practically everything is magic in our house. Like how do I know how to drive from our house to his house after he's moved. I explained mapquest but it didn't make sense. So he thinks I'm magic. Except at the same time he doesn't. Sometimes he knows there are things I can't do and that's when my magic fails me. But sometimes he gets so fascinated by the little things like how I know to let the dogs out before they throw up on the carpet that he's really convinced that I AM MAGIC. Since we don't have cable we have a really good antenna for the family tv room but it doesn't work if someone's standing right in front of it. Apparently he'd never realized that before and so when I told him to move his brother from in front of the tv so I could not only see the game but get a better picture he was amazed that I knew it and he went around telling everyone that our tv is magic and then proceeded to show them how to do the magic trick. It was hilarious. So all of this is to say that after I explained the resurrection, Jay said, "So Jesus is magic."

It was pretty amusing to say the least. I didn't know what to say at that point because I know Jay believes in magic sometimes and doesn't believe in magic other times. Sometimes the only thing I need to say is that something is magic or I'm magic and he's content with that. And other times he wants an answer and magic doesn't cut it. I really felt like that explains a lot of how I see the world at times. There are days that I don't know what to believe in, what is true, what's really important that I need to accept as truth...yada yada yada...but he's only six. And so I said, "Jay, do you need to see something in order to believe in it? Or can you know it to be real and true even if you don't understand how it works?" And of course he said, "Oh I need to see it." So I told him that I was very sorry that he felt that way because that isn't the way the world works...that sometimes you have to believe something is true and that is when you see it. When you truly believe. Pretty hard core for a conversation with a six year old over a Shrek puzzle...but I'm going to put a list of things together that Jay already experiences but doesn't quite understand. I didn't want to use the example my parents told me when I expressed curiosity with religion and life..."you can't see air, but you're breathing it. that still doesn't make sense." So I'm not sure what I'll tell him, but it was so insightful to me on completely different levels.

For starters, do I truly believe that I can be recovered? That I can have a life worth living? That I can have intimate relationships? That I can talk to Shish about my problems and that she will help me? That I won't always have an eating disorder? That I will figure out what I want from life and make it happen? That I won't always breakdown the instance a crisis appears? Or am I looking for proof? Signs? Evidence? Because I wrote here earlier and told Shish that I would only believe that recovery for me would be possible if she brought in to me someone who had my same life circumstances that had made it. That's seeing first, then believing. Not hope. Or faith. Or trust. And I realize...I really do lack faith in so many areas. I am like Jay in a sense, believing in magic at times, but also really disbelieving when it's right in my face.

I hadn't intended on even writing about that. I didn't even make the connection until later. And that's why I love this kid so much because as much as I see the influences of his parents on his personality, there's still that Jay in there battling it out. He's still in there telling me that he gets "bothered" that I say "I love you" eight hundred times a day, but then runs to me on the couch to cuddle and says I love you without me having said it first. And I told him the only reason I said it so much was because I wasn't sure how much he hears it when he's not at our home. And since he's so honest, he said there are some people on his father's side of the family who never say it...but that I still say it too much. He's so funny! I told him there are some things you can never tell someone enough and he said I KNOW YOU LOVE ME! I KNOW YOU LOVE ME! I felt glad to hear that but sometimes I feel like I have to say it especially when I've just put him in time out because I want him to know that even though he's made a mistake that I will always love him and I will never stop saying it or showing it.

Whew! A long post. But I'm so glad Jay and I had that conversation and that we all got to spend the holiday together (with the exception of my father who called but I didn't talk to him.) Jay and Lee rarely get to see each other...not even on holidays because of the different custody arrangements and so this was a special treat. It also has given me enough faith (wait...where'd that come from) to go see Shish on Thursday. If I can tell a six year old that I'm sorry he needs to see something first before he believes it, then I need to show us both that I'll take my own advice and believe in the magic. Or believe that it's not magic but it's just something that I don't understand. Or whatever. I don't know what to call it but I know it starts with me having faith, belief, hope in the unknown so that one day I might actually stumble across it and finally see it.

maybe I'm going crazy but I think that in the almost 48 hours that I've not purged that I've gained weight. And its not just a thought...I can feel it. I can see it on my face. like I see it.

yesterday after the wings I only had some sliced turkey deli meat late at night. I wasn't even hungry that's what pissed me off. when I woke up this morning I couldn't eat a thing. my stomach felt bloated and there was so much discomfort. So I decided to drink some juice and be willing and sit through the pain. For dinner I had sushi...two rolls. I felt STUFFED and I wanted to get rid of it but after consulting the meal plan...it still was an appropriate amount for dinner. honestly, I should have had something else and I can't imagine the real plan.

so I have it in my head to restrict. sigh...I know this isn't wise. I know it isn't . I want to do the right thing...but I hate fighting what feels so natural.

my transitional meal plan

I think I've said before that I restrict throughout the day and bp at night. I started out trying to mark a meal, which is basically just trying to eat something at each of the mealtimes. My stomach was not a fan of that because for one thing I never eat is breakfast. Then there was also the fear of eating something earlier in the day because it might cause me to actually eat more than a "marker" and I wouldn't want to end up eating three meals a day, now would I? So I took a nice little break from the nutritionist but now I'm thinking I need to revisit it. I see now how I completely shut down and I really think it's because I'm lacking energy. And although I would love love love love love to be thin...I would really like to get out of bed in the mornings. So first things first, right? Here's my transitional meal plan.

Grains: 4 servings
Dairy: 1 serving
Fruit: 1 serving
Vegetables: 2 servings
Protein: 4 to 5 ounces
Fats/: 1 to 2 servings

I know it's not a lot. But the other meal plan of what I should be eating was so overwhelming that I just couldn't bring myself to ever look at it. I felt really guilty because I couldn't bring myself to even do the first meal...or the second...or the third...or any of the snacks. So here's the transition to that (and I think we'll need another transitional meal plan part b or something) but I'm really committed to trying this out. It's kind of hard because she didn't give me too many options of what my 5 mini-meals would look like and I want to make sure that I eat enough so that I don't end up binging, but not too much so that I don't end up purging. Actually, she only gave me two days of what this plan looks like, and the first one had so many options. I think I'll email her tomorrow and give her a list of all the things I like to eat that are okay and we'll figure something out. In her defense, I kind of sprung this on her at our meeting on Thursday so she probably just threw something together.

So a typical day should include (commas indicate new meal): milk, fruit & string cheese, salad with protein and dressing and crackers, protein bar, and finally a large slice of thin crust pizza with a salad. Hopefully I'm not the only person here who thinks that's still A LOT of food to be eating without purging. I almost laughed at the dinner meal. First of all, that's not a mini meal, that's a meal. And second of all, it's pizza. Need I say more? I think I could handle the first three mini meals (minus the crackers). Maybe the fourth.

Monday wasn't so great although I did try. I'm supposed to do the first mini meal within an hour of my wake up time and I ate half a small grapefruit. A few hours later at a friend's house she got something to eat and thought to myself, I'm willing to eat too. I had some string cheese. So far so good, eh? And then for dinner I had sushi! Sweet Dragon which included the protein, the fat, the grain...no veggies though. The not so great part was that at midnight I bp'd. And looking back I realize I maybe should have had something else (perhaps some milk/veggies later in the evening) to prevent that.

Today so far so good. I woke up in the morning so that's already great. Not that I can give a full report because it's only 8 pm but I've been craving hot wings since Sunday and decided to just go ahead. Yes. I gave my permission to eat hot wings and told myself to enjoy it and not purge it afterwards! The wings were perfect! They came with french fries (not sure where that comes in on the meal plan...fat? veggie?) And sweet tea. I did feel kind of guilty about that part actually since it wasn't a part of the bargain. But three hours later and I'm still full, not stuffed because I didn't eat it all and I'm ok. I'm not feeling guilty about the food part. I'm feeling like I was in control and it's not the end of the world because even though it's not healthy it's what I wanted and anything else might have ended up in the toilet.

I'm a little anxious because I need to go get some gas tonight which means the convenient store and I'm not looking forward to that situation at all. I swear, sometimes I really need a personal assistant to do things like that for me, get gas, go to the post office, get the oil changed, and just handle business stuff. I'm still a little tired but hopefully I'll just get a good night's sleep. The only trouble with the transitional meal plan so far is that it's really hard to start eating when I wake up and I'm not completely empty which is how I ended up restricting for 7 hours today. But oh well, at least it wasn't more than 12! I think I might be better at convincing myself to eat something within an hour of waking if I didn't know there was still food in my body. But I'll just try again tomorrow.

last winter monday

Hmmmmm...

Today I didn't work, nor did I turn in my timesheet. Sigh... I did manage to email Shish a few times and she responded quite kindly I suppose.

Around 1 am this morning I panicked and asked her to NOT read the letter I'd emailed last week. Unfortunately she already had but said she'd respect my decision to postpone that subject but she encourages me to discuss these issues in therapy. I immediately thanked her for everything but told her I couldn't continue therapy anymore. So then she called. :) I just can't bear to FACE someone when they know that about me: not just about the incident...but everything I did thereafter. She was good enough to say it hadn't changed her thoughts about me or her level of respect for me...but I cannot believe that. I just can't.

So since she's ill she offered a compromise. We scheduled a meeting for next thursday which gives me time to think. And now that I think about it...I don't want to stop seeing her, but my heart hurts just knowing I'll have to look her in the eye someday. But on the other hand, I'm still in such a crazy place and our routine isn't really a routine. Sometimes we meet twice a week, others once a week, sometimes we go more than two weeks. I don't like the inconsistency.

I think that might also just be my way "out" you know? An excuse to not have to do this. But still I'm pretty curious to see if its true, that she can work through this with me...push me...really get under this skin and these walls and let me see what I've been hiding all these years. It'd be amazing to know that this really can happen for me: self acceptance, self love, healthy boundaries, increased self esteem & worth, and the ability to talk and connect with people without being ashamed. Forgiveness is a big one, too.

I'm just really afraid of all of that NOT happening. But I've taken the time I suppose and while I don't have to finish the course just because I started it, this really is something I want. I want the happy ending...not so much the walk. But I bet it's worth it.

the rest of the Jack saga

I need to come here first because I need to somehow get the courage to actually tell Shish what happened. It's easier on screen which is why I emailed her but -- I am totally freaking about Tuesday. Totally ashamed and not ready to show my face. I mean my chest is tight just thinking about the look that will be on her face (or the look that will not be on her face.) Because I think she will be great (as any therapist should be) in making sure she doesn't show that she's judging or thinks one way or the other about something. ButI know that with this story...there are judgments. You will shake your heads in confusion. I still shake mine.

I didn't date in high school. I was fat. But also my father was the most uptight son of a bleep. No boys. Ever. Like that was the rule. I didn't even go to my senior prom (because I refused to go alone when everyone else would have had a date.) So I went to college and I was pretty freaking inexperienced which is scary. It's intimidating. I had guy friends but there's such a difference in the way you have to be when you're with a guy you like. So I didn't branch out until second semester junior year. It didn't hurt that I had lost like 8 sizes and although I honestly didn't see it, I knew other people could look at me and tell. (How could you NOT?) So in a sense, I did feel a bit more comfortable knowing that I wasn't so fat.

I met Jack my junior year but we didn't start hanging out until August of senior year. The first two months were the best. Seriously. I was on track to graduate and could just fool around, my roommates and I were partying every other day of the week, drinking every night of the week, and everyone had a significant other. This was the first time that had ever happened in four years. There was always someone not in a relationship or "whatevership" and that someone was always me. I fell in love with Jack so fast it seems. One day we were hanging out and I already had that feeling of "he's the one" after the first time I met him and things just kept getting better and better. I could go into all the things that happened to get me to the point where I just thought I was in love (and I'm sure it's important but I won't even bother.) The point is...what we had was not love. Not even a little bit.

I started spending the night over at his apartment early on. Truthfully, I would have never done that before having met him. I was really paranoid about guys and drinking and date rape. Seriously! My friends were like annoyed by how absolutely psycho I was about making sure we always did the buddy system and making sure someone was always completely sober or not going over to the guys dorms at night. Interestingly enough, I never set foot in a guy's dorm until my senior year! And even then it was like 3:00 pm in the afternoon. That being said, there was something different about him. Perhaps because he was good friends with two of the roommates and he was a little older so I didn't think he was "that" kind of guy. And he didn't drink. Even better! No need to worry about getting drunk around him and completely losing my mind or virginity because he didn't believe in alcohol. So the first night I stayed over clearly I was on edge a little but things were so comfortable with us that it didn't even turn out to be a big deal. He threw me some sweats and we slept side by side and we cuddled and it was sweet. He like literally could not sleep without me in his arms. And I loved it! Except it's a little uncomfortable sleeping against someone throughout the night and so even when I pulled away, he would pull me back.

Sometimes, knowing the truth, I feel like I must have made all of that shit up. Sometimes I feel like we never stayed up all night talking about our futures and dreams, and telling each other secrets we swore no one else knew. Sometimes I feel like us being together only happened in my mind, because there is no way he could have done it, if he'd been there along with me. Did he really cook me dinner? Did I really talk to his mother? Did we cuddle on the couch and watch movie after movie until it was practically time for class the next morning? Didn't he feel it too? The connection...because if it was just me, then...that's fine. But that means everything else he did and said was a lie. And that hurts a lot too...not just about what happened. But that everything I knew to be true was absolutely nothing at all.

The night before it happened he'd made a comment that should have alerted some concern but...I felt safe in his arms. There was no way I could have known. He said "it was too difficult for him so sleep with me in the bed and not do anything." And I felt really bad! I did. I felt bad because I know it's got to be hard for someone who wants to have sex to lie in the bed with someone they want to have sex with and know that it's not an option. So what did I do? I apologized. I said I was sorry. That I would sleep in the other room. And he was so reassuring. That it was ok. That he would wait. Until I was ready. Because we had talked about it. About how I was waiting. For love. A relationship. Commitment. (I was so young back then. So naive. And there was some pressure I'll admit from friends to go ahead out there and "bite the bullet" so to speak. And then there was my own self-doubt. What am I waiting for? Everyone else is doing it. It's not such a big deal...I just wanted what everyone else had. A boyfriend.)

The crazy thing is...I had already fallen in love. I was ready but my God it had only been TWO months! You don't go through high school and three years of college to "fall in love" after two months. I wanted to be reasonable. Not that there was a time limit but...I wanted Jack to commit to being in a relationship with me first. And he knew that...but we both knew he didn't want a relationship. And we both knew that I was already head over heels and just waiting. And then he said, "But you are ready. I know you are."

The thing is. I really do think if I'd just put him in his place instead of rolling over to sleep that things would have wound up differently. If I had gotten up that night and went to the spare bedroom just to fucking show him that I wasn't ready. If I had never slept in a man's bed without having the intentions of sleeping with him. Because it is a mixed signal. You cannot say I'm not even ready to have sex with you but sleep in his bed. And we hadn't even kissed yet. That's what I was longing for. That first special kiss. So here I was seriously knowing that I wanted him to be my first...no doubt about it, but clearly we have to crawl before we walk. And I know I cannot blame myself for what happened (although I do) because sleeping in his bed does equate with consent. But I put myself into that situation. I did. It's like when you smoke. You know you COULD get lung cancer. Fuck no, you don't deserve that shit. But you're playing with fire. You get burned. And most people learn to put away the matches.

So I won't go into the details of what happened the next morning (but I did in email with Shish.) I'll just say that I was in complete shock. I was bawling. I was confused and terrified. I was heartbroken because I would have done it. I had already fallen in love...The pain itself was unlike anything else. There was blood everywhere and I was freaking out because when he was done he jumped off to take a shower and left me sitting there unsure about what to do next. I did pick up my phone to call a roommate but she didn't answer. It was early on a Saturday. And so I just started crying because I loved him. And he could do that to me? I said stop. I said no. Don't do this. Why are you doing this? What are you doing? And the only thing he ever said was "Don't fight it."

So I tried to convince myself that it wasn't rape. That because I was going to have sex with him it was ok. Not the imagined first experience but...it was ok. I told myself not to overreact because I fucked up too. Lying in bed only wearing under clothes...what did I expect would happen? I told myself I needed to pull it together. So when he came out (furious about the blood going through his mattress) and noticeably upset because I was still crying he said, "I thought you wanted to be with me." And I said, "I did." And he said it hurt him almost as much as it hurt me because I was fighting it. That it didn't feel good to him either because...I hadn't been broken in. And I said I was upset because it wasn't supposed to be like that. And he said nothing. He just looked at me and I was so scared. Scared that this had happened and he wouldn't want me anymore. And I had to make it right. I had to erase what had just happened and replace it because there was no way we could go back to the way things were before. Not when I had fallen in love and had weekends planned out. I wasn't going back to being alone and lonely on weekends or weeknights. I had to let him know that I was ok, that we were ok.

So we had sex. My decision. I didn't want to lose him. I didn't want him to think he had done anything wrong because he was right...I wanted to be with him.

We never had a relationship. Jack would come pick me up more and more sporadically as the semester progressed and I would have awful sex with him because those moments outside the bedroom were really wonderful. Everything that happened before it happened were almost perfect. I just wanted us to be able to get back to that point somehow. Every time I hooked up with him I only felt that first experience. Him hovering over me, not saying a thing, just forcing himself in, my tears streaming down my face. And I wanted that memory out. A new one. So I figured, why not a new guy? Five guys later (all drunken encounters or actually blackout sessions) and nothing changed. When I was drunk with the other guys I'd spazz the fuck out and start pushing them off or have trouble breathing and my heart would be racing and it was just not good. The thing is...I just wanted Jack. I just wanted Jack to take it back so we could do it the right way.

But you can't take that back. I haven't had sex since the day before I turned 22 years old. I got drunk as hell and during my party I had sex with a guy that I had just met that night. Honestly, he was like the hottest guy I'd ever slept with. But I fucking didn't remember any of that shit happening. I only knew it because 1. there was a condom wrapper next to my bed when I woke up 10 hours later and 2. there were still people at the party and so...of course...people talk. This was so not something I ever wanted for myself but I realized wow...I'm still fucked up over Jack and this guy RAPED me. I was more upset about the fact that I couldn't make it work, couldn't make him love me, couldn't fucking stand up for myself and report his ass. Couldn't just walk away, get help, and then enjoy my senior year. I did start dating another guy near the end of the year but I couldn't get intimate with him. No way. Only intimacy with random guys when I'm drunk. No one I actually like...I didn't want to make any more mistakes...unwilling to leave when things got bad.

So I look at myself in the mirror and all these years of shouting from the top of my lungs that I would not be my mother...and I fucking look just like her. Not physically, but we're the same person. It's easy to fucking binge and purge and restrict when not only do you hate your body, but you hate who you are as a person. You hate that the worst thing that was ever done to you was something you did to yourself. You hate that you're that person and so it becomes very hard to start to self-love when you haven't forgiven. When you can't forgive. When you reject any kind of intimacy from a relationship not because you're afraid he's going to hurt you, but because you're afraid you'll let him hurt you, again and again and again and again and he will see that. He will see that he means more to you than you mean to yourself and he'll only keep you around to feed his ego. You can't trust yourself because you're in love or you don't want to be alone or you want him...or for whatever reason.

And so now I told all of this to Shish...and she will see me as this weak and co-dependent person who just keeps fucking her life up and she will finally get it. That I'm right. I'm not worth her time. And yes, I am hoping that someone will say something to convince me to go to Shish because I cannot face her. I have never told a single person about what happened with Jack...because they wouldn't understand that. People can look at me and say oh yeah, she has an eating disorder but that can be explained. Yeah, she withdrew from law school but there's an explanation for that too. Somewhere deep inside of each of us is an ability to empathize...but when you cut yourself open and expose everything, expose something like this, well there's nothing to say but that's very fucked up. I'm sorry that happened to you but I really do understand how you've come to hate yourself. I don't think I could forgive that either.

Just woke up. I'm really upset about that. Especially since I set the alarm for noon and that would have been plenty of sleep. Man oh man.

So I am a bit calmer than I was last night when I was pretty much freaking out and wanting to restrict my ass off. The only thing that's stopping me though is that I know I'm not good at it. Sad, huh? I know it'll lead to a binge. So I'm going to email my nutritionist and just ask her to come up with a food plan for me that will lead to significant weight loss. And fast. Like if she tells me to exercise for three hours a day. Done. If she tells me I can't eat something. Done.

Except, I don't think she'll go for that. She's already said weight loss isn't one of her goals. She's just going to give me three meals and two snacks a day...and that...

it's not supposed to be this hard.

I haven't been weighed since mid December and it was pretty devastating. It's almost mid march. Three months right? Almost. And I need to know. I need to know because I just can't look at myself and tell. Sometimes clothes fit and others don't. But today I went shopping (again...because I needed a new charger and I couldn't resist the sales) and I held it together in that moment but now I'm freaking O-U-T. I mean freaking OUT.

And I look down to my stomach and all I see are stretch marks. And they're so dark and squiggly and they're new. I can't look and tell...I thought I was losing weight for a while but I haven't been purging AS much. I haven't been restricting AS much. And I'm just frustrated that it always comes back to that, you know? Looking in the mirror and saying you would be better if you weren't so fat. And I have a right mind to right now (after an insane binge) to throw out every single fucking piece of food because I HATE IT.

And I DO NOT WANT TO GO SEE THE NUTRITIONIST ON THURSDAY. I'M CANCELING AGAIN. This isn't fair!!! I want one fairly simple thing. It's not fair that when I restrict I can't lose weight. That's NOT fair. And so I will...no more spending any money on food. I'm really tired of this. I AM TIRED OF BINGING AND PURGING. I'm TIRED of being FAT.

And you know what, it wouldn't make life ANY better. The only difference it would make is that I wouldn't be fat. And that's okay with me. It doesn't have to be some life changing event. Can I just look at myself and not be disgusted? Is THAT too much to ask for?

a better day than yesterday

Today's session was not one of our best. I'm not sure what it is about me that just contains EVERYTHING. I mean I know its deep rooted in my childhood, never being able to express myself to my parents, having every feeling completely invalidated. It sort of makes you feel like it just doesn't matter if you don't talk about it. That maybe it will just go away. And of course now being at the ripe old age of 24 I know that's not true. But one can pretend.

Shish wanted to talk about the rape and I figured it would come up at some point but I didn't think we'd get to it today. I know she is frustrated with me because on the one hand I did tell her about it when I read her the letter but that didn't mean it was open for discussion either. Deep down, yeah, I wanted her to know because I wanted someone to know and help. Who else besides my therapist? But on the other hand it doesn't mean that I know even HOW to talk about it. I guess I'll write a letter again and I know she prefers that to my "yes" and "no" and "fine" and "ok" responses but she wants us to have a conversation and I'm not so sure how to do that about such an emotional subject. I have to keep it contained...look at how well I take care of myself and it's not even at the surface.

I just wrote her a letter that's like seven pages single spaced. I'm sure you guys all know I'm one for words but when I'm in there everything is just "fine." I just emailed it and it was the most vulnerable and damnit I really wish I hadn't emailed it now. FUCK. But I won't panic. And I promised I would talk about it next week when we meet but now I'm really anxious. But at least I have a week to prepare myself.

Next month we're going from meeting for two hours a week to three hours a week. Good thing I have a job, huh?

And yes. I told her. I waited until the last possible moment but I know I need the accountability. Umm, I guess there's not much else to say. I felt ashamed and humiliated coming forth with the truth but I did it only because I wish someone could have stopped me when I first started binging and purging. And well, I need to stop everything that's unhealthy. Shish is so kind to me and supportive and I know she's there, but I'm so afraid she will be another one of those people I add to list of those who let me down. I know it doesn't make sense for me to feel that way but...it's pretty much all I know.

I did forget to tell her about how I keep forgetting to take my zoloft. But I can just tell the Doctor when I see her next week.

is it possible for me to get any more fucked up? I guess so.

In the comments section I already wrote about how WONDERFUL today had been. But then of course...things happened. And it wasn't even bad but I think today was a clear indication that I do not deal with minor setbacks in a healthy way.

I came home from work and ate a snack which sort of ended up being more than I wanted to eat. I really felt out of control with it and that didn't make sense to me since I really had been having a good day. Nevertheless it wasn't a full out binge but I was really upset with myself for eating tortilla chips & salsa & hummus. Like what the fuck is that? So I watched Oprah and let myself appreciate my life for what it is not and all was well. Because I woke up at 5 am I was pretty tired so I decided to take a nap because I knew I had plans to meet a friend around 9. My mother comes in and sees me in bed and is pretty pissed off. She doesn't know that I'm working because we don't talk and she was just frustrated I guess about seeing me in bed at 5 pm...again. So that upset me because I feel like no one needs to tell me to get a job. And I know I could have just told her (and later tonight I did) but whatever. So I was kind of pissed and then I heard the house phone and ring my mother closed her bedroom door.

Note to readers: She is NOT that considerate. She does not care that she talks loudly on the phone and especially since it was early evening and she figured I'd been sleeping all day that is not something she would do. So my only guess was that it was my dad and she didn't want me to hear their conversation. And it pisses me OFF that she still talks with him on the phone and laughs and just hides the fact that she isn't upset with him at all. This made me REALLY upset. Especially since a couple of days ago she asked me when I planned on stop being angry with her. I'm sorry mom but forgiving you is not on my calendar! There is no fucking set date when I'm going to just come downstairs and eat dinner with you like you haven't systematically invalided every feeling or thought I've had for the past 24 years. SHE FUCKING SAID, "I have no idea why you're so angry." Then she proceeded to guess: Because she didn't make dinner for me one night when I asked her too. And honestly, that did piss me off. Because I was hungry and I was asking for help but I knew that I didn't want to be in the kitchen. So no, I didn't explain, mom this is a part of my eating disorder where I'm really TRYING to do the right thing by eating and I only asked you to boil some tortellini when you were already IN the kitchen. And so I said, no, that's not why I'm mad. And then she was like, Oh I know. Because when you and Jay were in my room taking a nap I asked you guys why you were in my room. And yeah, that also pissed me off. Like hello!!! Chewy HATES Jay. Chewy hates anybody that threatens to take the attention away from him, but especially little kids. Chewy actually was my sister's dog and so he resents Jay with a passion. Especially since Jay thought Chewy was his own personal horsie for the first three years of his life. So in an effort to not completely stress myself out, I kept Chewy in my room (because the other dog hates Chewy as well) and I decided to take a nap with Jay in my mother's room. Technically, I could have used the other bedroom but my mom's bed is just bigger and it made sense. I felt really put off. Like how dare you ask me why I'm entertaining your grandson in your room! I wasn't aware that certain rooms are off limits! But NO that is NOT why I'm not talking to you. Can you think back to perhaps the night I told you that your ex-husband assaulted me...the night he threatened me. And on that same night you told me "Well at least he didn't hit you. He didn't hit you. Don't be so upset. You're overreacting! Maybe it's okay that YOU leave since you're so upset."

DID SHE FUCKING FORGET THAT THAT SHIT HAPPENED. DID SHE FORGET THAT SHE TOLD HER DAUGHTER THAT SHE COULD LEAVE. DID SHE FORGET THAT SHE TOLD ME THAT I WAS OVERREACTING?!??!!

I guess so. Because even after I said, "Oh trust me. You do NOT want me to tell you why I'm pissed off" she still pretends like she doesn't have a fucking clue. So anyways, all of that is running through my head when I hear her on the phone with who I assume was my father. Laughing and talking and guess what ran through my mind? I was thinking about the last words my father ever spoke to me. Wondering how he is. Wondering how they can both go on with life like it's not a big deal. Wondering why I can't go on with life like it's not a big deal. And so I started crying...not too much though. FUCK, I need to take my zoloft. I've skipped three days again. This is getting out of hand...

Anyways...at this point I realize my cell phone charger is missing. And I panic. I'm one of those persons who cannot BREATHE without her cell phone. I mean I actually left my cell phone in my friends car once and I went out of town and bought a new one. CRAZY. Because I couldn't wait four days to be without communication. I mean clearly, when someone blogs from their phone when they're drunk and stranded...they're dependent. I realize it's a little over the top but...whatever. So I'm supposed to meet a friend for dinner (already an icky situation, right?) and my phone dies. So I find my other charger, the one that doesn't work and I manage to get the phone to turn on but the charger is so fucking sketchy. So I'm really panicking here and I can't binge and purge. I don't know. It's just not even an option. I'm fucking distraught...over a CELL PHONE and I fucked up. Again.

Thirty minutes later I'm feeling like a piece of shit, someone who loses it over essentially an everyday minor problem and I fucking completely BREAK the charger. I like rip apart the wires. Talk about rage. I can't even say what I did to get my mind off the fact that I was literally going apeshit. But I just needed to fucking NOT thing about that. UGHHHHHHHH. And so I got my mind off of it for a while and met my friend and of course I refused to eat. I ordered a martini and the dude said they had no more martini glasses so he brought it in a wine glass. AGAIN, I FLIPPED OUT. Like, who does that? Who melts down over their martini being in a wine glass. But I guess it's just because that's not the way it was supposed to be. So I fumed for like twenty minutes and just downed it. How is it that these little things can completely destroy me? I hate that. I really used to be so better about handling life...and now I can't even deal with broken chargers and dirty martini glasses.

And I'll just go ahead and say it. Things are really FUCKED up right now and it's so clear because I can't even deal with normal shit. I can't even cope with things that don't even need coping with. And I'm pretty fucking pissed at Shish too honestly. I mean, how can you try to take away my eating disorder and not replace the way I deal with everyday stresses and not see that I'm falling. I'm crashing. I'm doing shit I never used to fucking do...and it's because I'm really not even feeling binging and purging anymore. I mean obviously I still do it...but it's not my FIRST response. My first thought is shut down. Hurt myself. Stay in bed. Think about dying. At least before I was LIVING.

Fortunately, it's almost tomorrow. And I've promised myself capital P...no more self-destructive behaviors (besides binging and purging tomorrow.) I just can't. I can't go from one fucked up way of living to another. Not only does that make the depression worse, but it makes it so much harder to believe that I'll ever be free. I'm not even sure how to tell her. I'm not even sure that I can tell her that I've started something different. I can't even fucking write it on here...the place where I'm most honest because of course putting it in black and white just makes it real. But I'm really afraid...and not even of killing myself. But of continuing to live like this. I'm afraid because today was actually a REALLY good day. Or at least it started out that way.

i love how I was drunk & stranded & blogging too

One of Best's (new name Ten) ex's hosted a little get together for the big game last night because he's moving to Atlanta on Friday. I actually really like him as a person! They came to visit me when I was in college (also in Atlanta) and whenever they get together he tells her to bring me along too. The more the merrier! I had been having a pretty crappy weekend and so around 8 pm I decided to finally hop in the shower and start my day. I really wanted to have a good time so I just made up my mind that I would leave all the bad stuff at home. I even shaved!!! I wore one of the new dresses and put on heels and wore earrings and make up! Crazy things that I have not done in a very long time. The game was amazing!!! I was the only Carolina fan in the group and so I was literally having to fend off verbal assaults every time a ref failed to call a foul, or we made shots, and the brief minute that duke actually surpassed us in the second half. And when I say that we take these games very seriously...I mean it! I purposefully did not wear UNC paraphernalia because I did not want to insult the host. And really, I would hope others would do the same in my house! No Duke allowed. Not EVER. And especially not on game day.

So Carolina is leading throughout the first half and the Dukies are stressed but it was still anyone's game. The second half things got a little tense for me because they were gaining in on us and then somehow they were ahead. I actually was on the other side of the room as her and there were brief moments when I was perhaps a little mean-spirited...but with some of the other Duke fans that were around me. I was never an asshole to her. And in an intense game...it's quite amazing that I wasn't! A minute to go left in the game but honestly...I still didn't think it was in the bag for us! I mean it's Duke! If any team could make a comeback...that would be the team. Even at thirty seconds I knew they could still score 3 three's and take the game. I was on the edge of my seat. The host came over to me, we clink bottles and he says good game. A little relief. He's already conceding it but the game's not over. At 15 seconds she puts on her scarf, grabs her coat and walks out of the door without saying a word to anyone. Honestly, I missed the last few seconds of the game because I turned to look at the door and wondered what to do. When I looked back at the tv, the coaches were shaking hands.

YAY!!!!!!! I was ECSTATIC. Seriously...a REALLY good game. Better than the 2005 game when Carolina kicked Dukes ass and I was OFF my rocker that night. Anyways, I assumed she was just waiting in the car for me so I poked my head out the door but didn't see the car. Then I just went completely outside and still didn't see the car. Strange, I thought, but she wouldn't LEAVE me at someone's house, would she? I didn't even know WHERE I was! At this point I'm still giddy with joy and everyone at the party is like I can't believe she just left. It's just a game. Everyone's making plans to go out and party or see a movie when I announced that I'd need a ride back. And we lived over half an hour away! They were in SHOCK. Like what? YOU RODE WITH HER AND SHE LEFT YOU? Actually, the host didn't believe it. But when everyone had LEFT and I was still stranded he was like what are you going to do. Now mind you, as nice as this guy is, he's still not MY friend. Nor were the other people at the party. I knew one of the girls because we partied a lot together but she lived in another town as well and (even though it wouldn't have been TOO inconvenient for her) it was still not her responsibility. So I called Jay's dad because he lives in the same county but he was working and he said it would be about an hour. No good. (I told him to call me when he finished but he still hasn't called either!) Then I called another friend who lives in that county as well...and it still would have been a 30 minute drive but he was out with his girlfriend and he wasn't driving. Argh. I'd been calling and texting Ten non-stop. People at the party called her. The friend who was out with his girlfriend called her. I honestly didn't cry because I was way too happy that we WON! Isn't that insane?!?!

So I call her sister who had just gotten back from a business trip and did not feel like coming to get me. Instead she sent her husband. He arrived and asked me if Ten was on drugs. It was kind of funny because, no, I don't think she's on drugs. I really think I would know that. But at that point I just sort of broke down and started bawling, which sort of left him with the impression that she is on drugs. How can you leave someone? Your friend? Over a game? How can you ignore my phone calls and text messages and treat me like I'm a piece of shit. And the only thing I came to realize is that she just doesn't want to be my friend. She doesn't. Or maybe she can't be my friend. Because you don't DO that. The brother in law was very much on her side. Maybe she's going through some things, he said. That it has nothing to do with me but she has problems and she just runs away from the situation. But her sister pretty much was like, "You're a good one because I guess I give up too easily on people."

Unfortunately this isn't the first time she's left me somewhere. Most times its at night clubs and she'll give me her keys or if I've driven I'll wait for hours and hours for her to return. We took a two month break during my senior year of college because she left me and another friend drunk as shit in a NYC nightclub. It was our first time there...we were completely shitfaced...and she left to go hookup with her boyfriend in the bathroom. When I confronted her about it (in a really nasty accusatory way I'll admit) she left. She had the hotel key and she was NOT drunk. Literally the trip from hell. My friend and I were stranded for hours until I convinced Jack to come from NJ to pick us up and take us back to the hotel. He then had to pay the front desk man to let us IN the room because we didn't have any identification on us. And then Jack suggested that my friend "repay" him for saving us that night. It seemed like the nightmare would never end...She never apologized for leaving me. She apologized to our other friend but she said I deserved it because I was drunk and I yelled at her and fussed out her boyfriend. And I'll admit...I can be such an asshole when I'm drunk so I can't know what truly was said that night or how far I crossed the line and it's not an excuse. So because we were both at fault...I apologized.

But really this is more about the fact that she's always emotionally leaving me. I can understand that she was also drunk in NYC. I can understand that she gets drunk in nightclubs and goes off. That's who she is. She hasn't done that in such a long time (because she has a boyfriend now) that I really forgot that she can just pick up and leave because she's not thinking. But she wasn't drunk last night. She was just pissed off because of a game! She told her sister that she didn't want to hear me bragging about it the rest of the night. That she didn't want to deal with me when I was drunk. And so now it's almost 6 pm and she hasn't called to see how I got home although I'm sure she already knows. And that's what I mean. That's why it's really hard for me to be me around other people. To let them see the good and the bad. The part of me that's really fun to be around but also the part of me that's pretty fucked up. Because people can say they love you and still walk away. And they'll have no reason for it. I can logically tell myself that it's not me...it's her. It's my dad. It's my mom. They have their own shit that they're dealing with and that's why they cannot be available, that's why they push me away. But it doesn't FEEL that way. It feels like someone saying, I can't love you because you're YOU. You're too fucked up. I can leave you at a party because I'm tired of YOU. I can walk away from our relationship because I SEE YOU AND I DON'T LIKE YOU. And it might possibly be that they're thinking that they just don't want me to see them and walk away. But you know...just like what's happened with my mom, I told myself back in October that I needed to break things off with her permanently. I told myself not to move back in with my mother because she couldn't be who I needed her to be (not even WANT) and Ten can't be my friend. I want her to be my friend because once upon a time we were BEST friends. And she so easily saves me...but then she leaves and makes things a whole lot worse than they need to be.

I wanted to get back at her too. I wanted to sleep with her ex. It so could have happened too...Had I just been a little bit more intoxicated. Had I not intentionally told myself no more drunken hook-ups...no more guys. And I would have tossed away 2.5 years of NOT doing that...but the husband called just in time. :) I know it wouldn't have made me feel any better about who I am or what she did to me. It would have made me feel like shit. But today I feel a lot better! I mean I really do. The husband and I stayed up talking for HOURS and we both cried and laughed (although I cried a WHOLE lot more) and I woke up and felt like I just didn't need to cry anymore. I wanted to escape my own life so I know what it's like to not want to face your friends or have meaningful relationships. I know what it's like to want to spend your entire day in bed because you're too ashamed for whatever reasons. I know what it's like because since I've withdrawn from school I have really isolated myself from my closest group of friends and it has everything to do with ME. That's depression for you.

SO good news. Carolina fucking kicked Dukes ass and I'm drunk as shit. BUT I came out to another "neutral" city with Best and shes a duke fan. with 15 seconds left in the game she left. so I totally saw her putting her coat on...but by the time I realized what was going on she was gone and carolina was seeded number one. so I'm out at one of her exes apartment...and her sister is coming to get me...and bc I'm off my rocker I'm not pissed....but everyone at this social get together is like I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE LEFT YOU.

but that's her, right? I'm pissed cuz I'm stranded....but someone will come get me. didn't I know this is something my best friend would doe to anyone? even me...

but bc I'm drunk and we won and it was a fantastic game...I'm sort of like whatever. but I still would never do that to anyone...especially not best. so how can she do this to me? umm...and why am I still this girl that's like....oh, but shes my friend.

FUCK

a list of everything I did (not) do today

I hit snooze multiple times and did not wake up to go to work on the first day.

I emailed the woman and made up a really crappy excuse as to why I couldn't make it and she said she "understood."

I attempted to do the online course about ethics because this involves human research subjects but I felt tired so I went back to bed.

I woke up and six and wanted to cry. I wasn't sure if I was so tired because of the depression or because of the zoloft. Taking five days off (unintentionally) and then going back to the full dosage may have some effects on my system. I want off. I just want a life back. I want to care. Why am I writing about the same things I wrote about back in December? Why do I feel like a zombie? How is someone so capable of actually doing SOMETHING with her life in this situation? How the fuck did I end up here? In bed. Tired. Depleted. Sad. PISSED OFF. Unable to get up and live. Why is the fact that I am so disappointed and disgusted with myself not enough to get me out and about? Why does it make me turn over and live in sadness until I drift off to sleep.

At 7 my mother gets home and I turn on the lights to my bedroom and sit up in bed. I pretend to do something on the computer so she'll think I'm actually looking for a job. I haven't told her that I found one because...well, we aren't talking.

8: Jay comes over. Clearly we missed movie night. Clearly I did not make it to the post office. Clearly I did not do my taxes nor did I do anything at all. He's pretty upset about spending the night and actually begs to be allowed to see his mother. It's heartbreaking, really. A six year old boy who cries for his mother is not headed for the good life. I can assure you. As present as I try to be, nothing will make up for the fact that his mother does not want to see him. So I coax him into having dinner with me because he hasn't eaten and we finally make it to a nice little Italian restaurant that we both love. Being that I still wasn't hungry I didn't know what to do. He told me to eat. He said, "Titi, you know you need to eat." To which I replied, "Oh I know." How simple it is at six, huh? So I ordered an appetizer and ate about half and shared some with him and he was so excited the food came so quickly (because he was so hungry!!! By this time it was after 9!)

And after Jay finished eating I let him play with my phone and went to the bathroom and purged. I had never done that before. I had always prided myself on never ever allowing my eating disorder make a presence when I'm with him. And I wasn't burning to get it out. I wasn't about to lose it if I didn't purge. I merely wanted it out. I had no intentions of eating today and then I did. And so to punish myself (not FOR eating) but for eating when I was suck a fucking loser the entire day, I did it because I knew I would feel like shit for doing it with him.

So it's after 11 and I just got him down to bed and I don't feel empty. I want to purge again. I want to feel like I've accomplished SOMETHING today. I also feel extremely guilty for shopping yesterday and then skipping work today. Like I already have NO money but I went and bought two dresses that I really don't need and neither one of them will make me feel good about myself...and then I skipped work.

I can only hope that tomorrow will be better. UNC better beat duke.

please let me remember this night

I've been restricting. And if I did eat something I'd purge it. But mostly restricting because purging isn't fun. Purging little things just hurts too much. And then tonight I ate two tangerines and then I ate about seven or eight cookies. They were small too. Organic, whatever that means. And I wasn't hungry. And they weren't even all that yummy. But I kept putting my hand in the bag and stuffing the cookies in my mouth because I had this awful headache from the long day and I just didn't feel like purging. Not with a headache.

And now my stomach is churning. It's making awful noises and it hurts and this isn't fair. Because when I full out binge it isn't even this painful. And that doesn't make any sense. Not at all. And I have to work tomorrow!!! Isn't that funny? That I need to be up in about seven hours and actually able to function and right now my head still hurts and my stomach is all pissed off at me for eating cookies and my mind is telling me this is what I deserve because I wasn't supposed to eat. And I won't interpret this pain to mean that I wasn't supposed to just eat cookies! I'll take it to mean that I wasn't supposed to eat. And I'm really not looking forward to tomorrow. I mean I'm not dreading it...but I have work and I have to do my taxes and I have to argue with the storage people for overcharging me and I have to pick up Jay from school and take him to movie night with Best and her daughter and I have to clean my room. And then there are the things that I want to do...and there never seems to be enough time or energy or heart to do them. And I absolutely cannot feel like this tomorrow because I just can't. I need to be well-rested and energized and confident and optimistic. I also need to be able to eat something safe and have it settle so that I'm not absolutely on the edge before movie night.

And for the last freaking time...I have got to make it to the post office. So all of this is to say...I have to get out of bed tomorrow to be present for tomorrow...but I'm really just sort of looking forward to Saturday. When it's all over.

well that didn't go the way I WISHED it had

And I was so pumped and ready to go! But then the alarm went off and I just couldn't get out of bed. I hit snooze about four or five times before I finally just hit sleep and didn't wake up until 12:30 pm. I realize this is progress but I had an appointment at 1:30 with the Doctor and a 2:30 with Shish. Still, I laid in bed for another thirty minutes pondering whether or not I would get up. At the last minute I decided to once and for all take some action and I scrambled around the house trying to get ready. I was in such a hurry that I forgot to grab the ambien -- and I was supposed to turn that into Shish during our session.

I realized this on the way to the first appointment and I was already late. I figured it made no sense to turn around because then I'd get charged for skipping because that session is only 30 minutes long. And I don't think we've ever spent 30 minutes...except the first couple of weeks. Oh and then I got lost. Yeah, I know. But I was rushing so I decided to take the local freeway and I went in the wrong direction. So not exactly lost...not at all really. But it tacked on an extra five minutes. And