Happy Oscar night, everyone! (Fingers crossed for Colin Firth)

I am so screwed for this statistics test on Tuesday. We didn't have class last week for one reason or another, so it's been almost two weeks and I told myself I would review notes and concepts every day until the test and so far I've studied... zero days altogether. The thing is, it's not like psychology or biology where you've gotsta make sure you read a textbook and retain information. With math, you either get it, or you don't. If you do get it, great. If you don't, you'll probably fail. We've only had two homework assignments since the semester started in January, one we never got handed back to us, and the other one we went over in class and I felt pretty confident about it. I even mustered up the courage to see the professor before our class a few weeks ago and he went though some of the tougher problems with me. Honestly, regardless of how I do, I'll just be happy when it's over and done with so I can stop feeling anxious about it. Speaking of which, for the past week my right eyelid has been twitching on and off throughout the day, every day. I'm sure it's just stress and fatigue or whatever, but I cannot help wondering if I have some sort of neurological disorder. Aahaha it just twitched right when I typed that!!!

I don't know what to do for dinner tonight. I'm working till closing so I'll either have to make due with a wrap from the store, or order something yummy and wonderful but extremely expensive from Comella's next door... hmmmm. Oh god, cheese gnocchi with marinara sauce sounds amazing right about now. Maybe I'll do that. I think I may have to do that.

Marci never helped out with the problem I e-mailed her about a few days ago. Hmph. She was like, "I'm so proud of you Eliza for reaching out! Since I don't have adequate time to respond, we can discuss it on Tuesday." Ummm... okay. It seemed a little dismissive. I mean, how much time does it really take to just say, "Hey Eliza, sorry you're feeling anxious about what you ate for dinner. Just remember that anxiety often indicates that you're challenging the eating disorder, so you're doing the right thing by sitting with the uneasiness." See how quickly I could come up with that? And I'm not even a licensed nutritionist.

It's Sunday and I usually report any behaviors I had over the week on Sundays. But since it's getting easier to not binge as often, lets just assume that every week is behavior free, unless I claim otherwise. Wait, what was that? Did I just say recovery is getting easier? :)

Today's special: GUILT

I did a horrible thing. It's weird because I don't want to say what it is but I do think everyone should know how seriously I screwed up and how guilty I feel about it. Just for the record, what I did was legitimately irresponsible and bad. It's not like I binged on a ton of food or something and now I feel bad about it. It's not like I was late to work and another employee had to cover for me. It's pretty bad. Here's what I DID NOT do however, just so you know that I don't belong in jail: I didn't kill anyone or anything, I didn't physically harm anyone or anything, I didn't break the law, I didn't make anyone cry, I didn't hurt anyone's feelings, it doesn't have anything to do with the eating disorder... and it doesn't have anything to do with my job at the ice cream store or my family. So there you have it, sort of.

This may sound self-indulgent, but I'm wondering if anyone else has ever been careless or irresponsible or let someone down in a big way. Right now I feel like I'm the only person in the world who has ever made a mistake and even though I know that can't be true I wish I could just have some assurance that other people aren't perfect either, you know? I just feel horrible and ashamed beyond belief and I need someone to say something like, "Oh Eliza, this one time I was supposed to throw a baby shower for my best friend but instead I got super drunk and slept with her husband instead. Your mistake was NOTHING compared to that." Something bad. Maybe tomorrow I'll feel more okay with talking about the specifics of my situation, but right now I feel like if I revealed it you guys would never read my blog again!

E-mail I sent to Marci 3 minutes ago

Hi Marci,

I'm having one of those awful ED thoughts that I'm sure are being supported by some faulty beliefs regarding nutrition and meals and stuff. Here's the gist of what today has been like (and if you'd rather discuss this in our session next week that's fine): This morning I had to wake up way earlier than usual, 6:30 to be exact, because I had a babysitting gig at 8:00 and I wanted to have breakfast and do some other stuff first. I knew that since I was going to be running around a lot today going from job to job I would probably need more food or whatever so I was good about that... and I actually had lunch at 11:30 because of how early I'd eaten breakfast so I challenged the time rules there and that was okay. Subsequently then, I had dinner early too, at a quarter to six and then I had a frozen yogurt for my dessert, which I'm also going to count as my evening snack I think. Here's the problem/horrible thought: I should have had the frozen yogurt later in the evening because I'm staying here until ten and then walking home and now since I've just blown everything by hitting all my exchanges before even six o' clock, I'm going to be hungry in four hours and have to eat more which goes over the meal plan and I would have been able to avoid that hunger if I had I just delayed my dessert. I suppose I could just try and tolerate the hunger but that seems restrictive.

Is this true? Would I be less hungry in a few hours if I'd just eaten the froyo at like eight or something? I'm confused. Angry and confused. Hey! At least can identify the emotions properly. Karen R. Wutzherface would be so proud.

Anywho, thanks for reading. I think just writing out this e-mail has helped me feel a lot better. See you on Tuesday!!

-Eliza :)

Can I pick 'em or can I pick 'em?!

Well despite having to wake up sickeningly early to help Tulan open the ice cream store this morning, only to find that she wasn't there and then having to wait an hour outside in the freezing cold for her to arrive with the key, I couldn't feel too bogged down because last night was so much fun! I couldn't have chosen better companions to keep me company while I was house sitting last night. Rachel was a shoo in for a bunk mate because of how eager she was to practice shadow puppets with me, Mary, one of her best friends, came along to provide us with some stellar impressions of the teachers at her school, and Jake... well Jake came along because he had nothing better to do and I only enjoy being with kids for about an hour or so and then I start to get sick of all the clean and wholesome fun. I always love having someone to make inappropriate and crude comments with.

Anyways, we all watched Glee together at 8:00 and I brought a frozen Amy's pizza for everyone to share afterwards. After like five minutes of being in the oven though, the smoke alarm went off and Rachel started freaking out. Nothing was on fire or anything, but there was smoke EVERYWHERE. We opened all the windows and then took turns fanning the air around the smoke detector so that it would stop sounding. Luckily Amy's pizzas only take 12 minutes to bake so Jake and I took turns waving newspapers at the alarm until it was done. We drove Mary home at 10:00, and Jake stopped off at our house to pick up some microwave popcorn for the movie. He tried making homemade kettle corn for us. It was sort of gross looking. He popped up some regular microwave popcorn and then drizzled corn syrup and brown sugar over it. So... not really kettle corn come to think of it. It was soggy and limp but surprisingly delicious. Then we all fell asleep on the couch watching Anchorman.

Tonight I finish work at 5:00 so hopefully we can have another sibling night. Tomorrow is going to be horrible. I'll probably have to wake up at around 6:30 because I'm babysitting from 8:00 to 1:00. Then from their house I'll have to walk straight over the ice cream store for my double shift until 10:00. I feel like I complain a lot about how much I work and stuff. It is stressful to be sure, but I feel bad when I compare it to stuff everyone else around the globe is going though. You know there have been mini earthquakes in Indiana for the past couple of days?

Sleeeeep. I want sleeeeep.

I started writing a post last night once I had settled into the house that I'll be sitting for this week. I sat down at their computer with a big snugly blanket wrapped around me, all excited to write something interesting and then nothing came so I just went to bed. I think I was just totally wiped yesterday because of how much working and running around I'd been up to. I was at the ice cream store from 5 until 10 and then I cleaned up and closed by myself, then at around 11 I walked back to the house, and walked their dog for twenty minutes. A part of me was glad to have had all the exercise though, because I'd had a frozen yogurt for dessert that I was feeling guilty about.

I can't quite say yet how I feel about having a house all to myself. Some parts of it are nice. I like feeling in charge and responsible, and I like their pets. I think I'd feel much more lonely without the pets. Their dog Molly follows me into every room, and she slept most of the night at the foot of my bed. It was really sweet and I really want a dog. I'm not so fond however, of having no one to talk to or joke around with like I have at home. The house is also really big and has a lot of mirrors up on the walls, which sucks because I can't go anywhere without catching a glimpse of myself and then wanting to throw up. I miss home :( Tomorrow night I'm definitely having Rachel spend the night there with me.

I don't want to see Marci tomorrow. I dunno. I just don't. I'm feeling apathetic about life. Also I forget what homework she gave me to do this week... last Tuesday it was to challenge the rules I have about "timing" for my meals. It's like, if I have breakfast at 11 a.m., I'll tell myself that since breakfast was late, all the other meals should be pushed back accordingly. Then what happens is at around 1:30 I'm hungry for lunch but I won't eat because it's too soon after breakfast. Then I'll get hungrier and hungrier, and then binge or something because I couldn't wait. I'm getting better at that stuff though.

Boom boom pow

So for everyone BUT me, next week is February vacation and that means my mom won't be teaching, my brother doesn't have school, and neither does Rachel. I still have work, and my mom set me up with a house sitting gig for this family in our neighborhood who is going away over break. They have a dog and two kitties so I figured she'd just need me to do walking and feeding and water plants and other domestic shit but this evening, when I went over to their house to get a run down of my responsibilities, I was totally thrown for a loop. She starts walking me through the rooms, introducing me to the pets, and showing me where their food is kept and everything blah blah blah and then she brings me upstairs. She brings me into a bedroom and goes, "So you can take Sam's room." At first I didn't really understood what she meant so I just ignored it but then she started explaining to me how the shower works and where I can do my laundry and stuff. I didn't want to seem impolite so I just went along like everything was making sense but in my head I was like, what the eff?! She wants me to literally live in her house while they're gone? My mother never said a word about anything like that. Typical though. So I guess I'll be spending the majority of next week in their house... alone, in their house alone and by myself without anyone else. Maybe I can convince my sister to spend a couple of the nights with me there. We can make a girl's night out of it or something.

Is anyone else sitting at home and feeling bored on this very cold, dreary Saturday night? I had a good day today but now I'm bored as balls. I went to the science museum with my brother and sister and saw an Omni theater show about the great lakes. Then we went to a neat exhibit about diabetes and got to walk around inside a pancreas that was thirty feet high! They also had these little machines where you stick your arm in and this little puff of air shoots out into your arm to simulate what an insulin shot feels like. It was all very fun and interesting until we got to the part about how everyone should diet and exercise so as not to get diabetes. There were two pretend refrigerators that you could open up and look in, one was stocked with HEALTHY GOOD food, and the other with SUGARY BAD food. It made me feel sick and depressed so I turned to my brother and said, "Jake this is triggering, I want to go." Then he looked at me and said, "You're right. Let's get some brownies."

Speaking of my little brother, he's out on a third date with this girl named Leah who runs and track and has lots of friends. My little brother is on a date. I feel like crying because of how much everyone else is changing but me.

Late night grumpies

I'm having thoughts. Intrusive thoughts. Thoughts about food. Thoughts about weight. To be specific, thoughts about dieting. Obviously these sorts of thoughts come with the territory of having an eating disorder, but for those of you out there who have tried your hand at recovery- ever noticed that the thoughts tend to get particularly chatty and bothersome once you try leaving behaviors at the door? Its the sad and unfair truth that the books and experts don't warn you about enough. I mean, of course I was prepared for the anxiety and struggle that would ensue after becoming a faithful convert to Marci's meal plan, but here's the thing: Right now, the cons of recovery seem to be outweighing the pros.

Pros of Recovery:

-less bingeing
-no instant weight loss
-less hunger now that I get to eat more

Cons of Recovery:

-guilt and shame after eating (even when it's a normal amount!)
-less fantasizing about desserts when I'm bored
-intolerable feelings of inadequacy b/c I'm at this weight
-more free floating anxiety
-increased isolation from people
-constant despair and hopelessness
-I used to be pretty and now I look like a middle aged man

What's the good of doing all this work if I'm not getting anything out of it? I mean, High School was horrible but I stuck through it because I knew it would end after four years. If I had some sort of promise like that for recovery then maybe things would be different but I have no reason to believe that there is a light at the end of THIS tunnel. Huh. Well so far these are just thoughts and I'm wise enough to know that thoughts aren't always there to lead you in the right direction. I just hate hate hate this.

Although maybe it's not the meal plan and the recovery work that's making me feel this way. Maybe it's just the eating disorder trying to fight back somehow. But how could that possibly work? It's not like I'm possessed or anything... GOD this would be so much easier if wasn't so FAT. It's the being fat that's really killing me I think. I've spent my entire adult life trying to get to a weight I could be satisfied with and then the few times I actually did, it was awesome, but it was so much work staying there. I can't remember a time when I wasn't trying to lose weight, and now the desire to be thin is still stronger than ever, but I've given up the methods and practices of actually losing weight. This sucks.

Giant tortoise

I've been thinking about something recently. People are always telling me to get out there and be more social and have more friends and be less isolated, and until recently I thought they must be right. But you know, most people I meet just make me anxious and depressed about life. It's sad but true. And don't you like the way I phrased that statement? I could have been really insensitive and said something like, "most people are superficial and corrupted," but instead I made it a statement about myself- that way it doesn't sound accusatory. Anyway, the point I'm trying to subtly make is that it's not me, it's them. It's people! Every day that goes by just provides me with further proof that I don't belong here. And by here, I mean earth. Not to toot my own horn or anything (because we all know I'm severely flawed), but if I can have a compassionate and understanding heart, why do the majority of humans seem to be without one? I mean, even the people I care most about in the world aren't as nice as I wish they could be. My brother makes fun of me all the time, my mom is never at a loss for pointing out the areas of my life that I can improve upon, and I'm pretty sure my dad thinks I have some high functioning mental retardation. RRghh, it's so frustrating. But, that's why I limit my social interaction I guess. If you don't get close to people you don't have to risk being disappointed by them.

On the way home from work this evening I slipped on the ice and fell into a cold and soggy puddle. I wanted to cry, I felt so pitiful and alone. My arm was all scratched up and bleeding, my butt was soaked, and I dropped my mom's copy of David Copperfield in the snow. Do you ever have moments where you feel like you've hit rock bottom? Well this was one of those moments.

Say whaaaaat?

Dr. Gordon was in rare form yesterday. Usually she just lets me start off on whatever I feel like venting about but yesterday she was all taking out her notes from the session with my parents last week, asking me if I talked at all to them about how it went.

"My mom approves of you I think."

"Did she saying anything about what we discussed?"

"Ummm.... she mentioned that you thought I should get a psychiatrist about the meds. Oh, and she loves your wallpaper."

"Is that it? Okay, then I guess they're leaving me to do their dirty work." At this I started getting extremely agitated and defensive, demanding (gently of course) to know what they said about me, insisting she tell me everything my mom said and begged she wouldn't leave anything out. Haha Dr. Gordon was like, "Wow, you're really worried about what they think of you. Do you really not know what they might be concerned about?" I explained to Dr. Gordon that my dad, though wonderful and funny and loving, doesn't really do the whole talking and sharing personal stuff gag, while my mom will often point out areas that she wants me to work on, like dressing in clothes that actually fit me and getting more comfortable with sharing personal space- whatever that means. "Well I think they see how much you don't like your body, and they notice how much you isolate yourself from everyone." Well, this I already knew, so that was a relief. I thought she was going to say something like, "Your parents wish you'd just leave already and get your ass back in school," or "Your mom thinks that you need to lose some of the binge weight." What was surprising to learn however, is that my parents are afraid of me. Apparently they're hesitant to talk to me about stuff because they think I'll be so overcome with emotion that I'll fall into a depression or fly into a fit of rage and slash my wrists open. I added that last part but you get the idea. I feel so bad! I mean, yes I'd prefer to keep my problems to myself and work on them alone and without the "support" of my family, but that doesn't mean they need to tip toe around me! Jesus. Do I come off that volatile? Then she said she thought it would be really good if all of us could have a meeting together- just me and my parents and her. She's brought this up before though so it didn't take me entirely by surprise. It was funny though, at the moment she was saying this, I was taking a sip of water and then all at once started choking on it and she was like, "So I guess you're still not up for it?" I assured her the idea of having a session with all of us was absolutely out of question and possibly the scariest and most anxiety producing experience I could ever imagine. Then she was like, "Okay, but I'm not giving up on this." Great.

You know what else she brought up that was totally and completely unexpected? She asked if I ever though about doing a review of the outpatient program. At first I didn't know quite what she meant.

"A review?" I asked. "Like go on a journey back in time to last year and mentally revisit everything I learned?" I imagine it would be similar to what happened to Scrooge in a Christmas Carol- going back and seeing himself as an innocent little boy, apprentice to the jolly Fezziwig. When viewed in this light, the idea actually sounded kind of cool.

"Or...," she said, raising her eyebrows at me as she would at a moron, "you could actually go back."

I was silent for a few seconds and then I said, "Why? I'm not bingeing nearly as often as I used to, and I'm following a meal plan more faithfully than I ever have in my entire life!" I was offended and hurt really, at her suggestion. Then she explained that it's BECAUSE I'm doing so well that it might be good to have the extra support. That way it might ensure that the recovery sticks nice and tight.

"You're really anxious right now, and it's probably because you're adjusting to life without behaviors. Going back, even if it's just for the evening IOP program, might be a really good idea."

I told her I'd think about it, but I don't know what to think.

I wish I could fly an airplane

I haven't posted anything since Thursday because I was waiting in anxious anticipation for our evening with Heather to be over with. I do that a lot. If I'm not looking forward to something I put my life on hold because somehow I imagine my life is over and nothing matters so why blog or why shower or why be nice to people, you know? Anyway, it went better than I thought it would. She was of course, as skinny and pretty as ever and I felt like a sea monster, but it was soon forgotten because I was reminded of how genuinely sweet and wonderful she is. So despite all the yucky jealously on my side it was really nice to see her because I know she cares about me and I love her so much. She came over late in the afternoon and went with us to see my little sister's Artbarn production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. I'm glad she came because public events are always so much more fun when you have an extra person to poke fun at them with :) Poor Rachel though. She played the part of Starveling, one of the mechanicals, and every line of hers was delivered with such haste and such embarrassment that it left us all wondering the same thing, "Is she even enjoying this?" My sister is naturally shy and not really a fan of putting herself out there so the fact that she loves performing so much is just a mystery.

After the play we went home had dinner. My mom made lentil soup and we had this really good garlic bread and salad to go along with it. I feel like I ate a lot, which I tend to do on days that I forget to log my food. It wasn't a binge by any means, I just had like three extra helpings of bread because it was really good. Then for dessert I had Boston cream pie but that's okay because everyone else was eating pie too. We watched The Social Network, which was good but I was expecting something a lot better because of all the hype it's been getting. I'd recommend it though. It made me think a lot about quitting Facebook actually. I don't go on it all that much anymore and when I do it's only to get in touch with friends or look at pictures of girls I went to High School with and all that does it make me feel like crap because their lives look so much better than mine. Heather quit Facebook a couple months ago and I guess if she can do it I can too.

I'm working today but luckily my shift is only from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. so I don't have to worry about spending too much time around the ice cream. I think I'll bring a novel to read, my Food and Feelings workbook, dinner, and a maybe a notebook to write in. Tomorrow I'm seeing Dr. Gordon. She's so skinny. I hate that.

Well since it's Sunday again, it's time for me to report any behaviors I had. I'm having trouble figuring out if some of my so called "binge episodes" were actually binges though... like earlier this week I had a lot of ice cream and froyo at the store but then skipped dinner and snack so it didn't physically feel like a binge. And then two days ago I ate half a bag of sweet potato chips and then had salad for dinner because I wasn't hungry. You see, these don't feel like binges because I don't feel a total loss of control in the moment, it's more just me thinking, "Hey I'll have ice cream for dinner cuz I don't want pasta." What is that? I'll have to ask Marci what that counts as. For now lets just called them "Potential ED Episodes."

THIS WEEK'S POTENTIAL ED EPISODE COUNT: 3

Quite the conundrum

I can't really get away with writing posts at work anymore unfortunately. Usually I delete the internet history so Tulan won't stumble upon the link to my blog and discover what I psycho I am, but the other day she was talking about how she couldn't find something on the computer because the history was gone. Whoops. I guess I'll just play it safe from now on and hand write my entries to type up and post later.

Right now I have the worst headache I've ever had. It actually started last night when I got home from babysitting so I just went to sleep because typically pain is gone in the morning. But I woke up a couple times in the night to pee and noticed my head was still hurting. Now it's almost 5 p.m. THE NEXT DAY and my head hurts so much I've actually got tears in my eyes. I called my mom about an hour ago to tell her I was pretty sure I had cancer and might not be around much longer. But she assured me that brain tumors do not just appear and start plaguing people over night- which I already knew I guess but I just wanted some reassurance. So after I called my mom I thought of something. Sometimes the best medicine, believe it or not, is just going on a food bender. I thought about this for a few minutes and then decided I would have two scoops of ice cream and see if it made me feel better. It cheered me up some, but the headache was still there. I had some pretty interesting mind chatter after the ice cream though: "Okay, well I just had two scoops of ice cream which is normal and if I have two more scoops that's kind of coming closer to a binge but not if I just limit it to 4 scoops all together and then skip dinner and the rest of my snacks for the day because in terms of calories I've probably just about hit or maybe come a little under what I'm supposed to get in a day so if I stop now I won't have overdone anything and it won't be a binge!" Whew. Welcome to the inside of my brain. It's a rather terrifying place. Now I'm having guilt about my decision to skip out on the rest of my exchanges for the day... it's still a behavior that I'll have to include in my update to guys on Sunday, right? The question is however, was it a binge or restriction?

You know I kind of that new Katy Perry song Firework. I like line where she's like, BOOM BOOM BOOM even brighter than the moon moon mooooon.

God, now my chest hurts. My heart. I have a heartache. What's wrong with me?

Shoot me. Just shoot me.

I'm sick of working at the ice cream store. Blegh. I want a new job. A better job. An exciting job with lots danger and twists, like... a train conductor. I would love to be a train conductor- and I don't mean one of those lame ass public transportation goons who just sit there and glare while you struggle to stuff wads of dollar bills and change into the fare machine. I mean like an old fashion steam engine conductor a la Tom Hanks in The Polar Express. Although come to think of it, even a boring MBTA driver job would be more stimulating than working at the ice cream store. Today I only had to work from noon to five, and even though it was painfully slow as usual, the manager, Tulan, stuck around for most of my shift, which is not typical. Usually she leaves and then I spend the rest of my shift reading, journaling, fooling around on the computer, and coming up with positive affirmations for myself that usually turn out to suck and make me feel worse. The best one I could come up with today was, "I have a good personality." Not only is that statement unoriginal (and let's face it, a tad untrue...), it kind of makes me feel uglier than I already am. But my point is that I have everything very scheduled and arranged when I'm working alone, and today I was all like what the hell bitch get out so I can stop pretending to clean the froyo machine and start slacking off. I started to feel especially depressed and when she told me all about how much busier it's going to be in the summer and how I'll have to train the new employees. The summer? You mean that happy season that you're supposed to spend on the beach eating watermelon and riding porpoises? But thankfully she made me feel a little better by saying that I could be a manager in a couple months and be in charge of the store when she wasn't there. That was pretty awesome. And also a little weird at the same time... I hope she remembers that I'm (hopefully) going back to school in the fall.

Okay, here's something I'm really getting myself worked up and upset over: today I got an e-mail from Heather (in case you're new, she's the cousin who lived in my house while I was away at school, and now she has an apartment in Somerville) asking to hang out this weekend. Now, I love Heather like she was my own sister but the thing is she has pretty severe depression and anxiety and every time I see her she's gotten skinnier and skinner. I feel horrible for feeling jealous, especially since SHE used to be heavier than me and now I'm the fat one. Please forgive me for how awful all of this sounds! PLEASE. You have to understand that I just can't help thinking this way. Obviously I wish I could feel compassion instead of envy and resentment but I just can't right now so I'm sorry. That being said, I'm mad as hell and I wish she would stop trying to see me because seeing her only makes me feel like shit, and I've been doing so well the past couple weeks and I just know that seeing her is going to make me want to go on a crash diet which will inevitably fail because I'll get too hungry and so I'll wind up bingeing for the rest of my life. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Wow. Just.... wow.

Do you guys know what today is? Well, unless you are thoroughly engrossed in and dedicated to reading this blog, let me remind you. TODAY IS THE ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF AN UNEXPECTED TWIST! It was exactly one year ago today that I found myself so lost and desperate inside this eating disorder that I started narrating my journey to the (somewhat) public. I can remember myself very vividly last year on February 7th, sitting on the same couch covered in laundry that I was supposed to have folded, and hoping against all hope that someone, anyone out there might relate to or understand what I was going through. I think the scariest part was that I didn't even know what was wrong with me. I had been diagnosed as anorexic for almost half a year before leaving school for a medical leave and then all of a sudden I was bingeing and I didn't even know if that still counted as an eating disordered behavior. I think I just thought I was losing my mind. I rarely ever feel compassion towards myself but as I go through the posts of last February and recollect that horrible month of starting program, throwing tantrums over the no-exercise policy, crying at the thought of 2 slices of swiss cheese on a sandwich, I feel like going back in time and giving that poor girl a hug.

Honestly, as much as I would like to be thin again, it's not worth it after all the shit it to took to stay there. Man, I never thought I'd say that. Here's a quote from the post I wrote after my first day in outpatient: "I like to think of myself as someone who faces most obstacles with integrity but the truth is when it comes to weight loss, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for it." And it was totally true. I cheated my way like hell through that program; skipping meals at home and then telling everyone in group that I'd followed a meal plan. At lunch during day program I would hide cheese sticks and almonds in the sleeves of my oversized sweatshirts so I didn't have to eat them, and all the while I still thought I could recover from the binge eating if I just concentrated hard enough on restriction. Sometimes I think about writing to my case manager back at the treatment center and telling her all this, just for the sake of taking ownership of my recovery. But then I think about how proud of me everyone was when I was discharged and I wonder if telling them now would just make them paranoid or less confident about how their current patients are doing.

Anyway, I think what amazes me most about all of this is that I've had an eating disorder since I was fourteen and I've made more progress in these last 12 months than I made throughout six years of struggling. I think it's important for me to remember that fact when I start getting down on myself for not being in college right now. The leave from school has been not only necessary for me, but healing as well. Even though I'm not entirely behavior free, I really do think that embracing a lifestyle of recovery is a change unto itself. I still hate my body, and I can't do anything about that right now. They say that body image is the last part of the eating disorder you let go. That's probably true. My weight, wherever it's supposed to be at, will settle once I've settled, but it's not my top priority anymore. Was there any particular person who coined the phrase, "Life is too short"? Well it is too short. In the years to come, I don't want to be living in fear of food and numbers on a scale because I've done that and even though I was a size 2 and had oh my god killer legs, I HAVE to imagine that happiness is about more than just that. I have to.

Itchy nose

It's kind of warm today... weird. And last night it was raining with thunder and lightening. I am very confused.

Tonight I have to close the store. I got here about half an hour ago to relieve Siobhan and Jess from their shift and the place is an absolute mess! The floor is all covered in sprinkles and sticky shit, the tables haven't been wiped down, the drain is stopped up with gummy bears and bits of mango, the topping jars have finger prints on them, and I REALLY wish that when people clean the espresso machine they would do a second wipe down so the cloth doesn't leave ugly water tracks. Oh, well. Now I'm mad and I have nowhere to direct my anger. Actually, that's not entirely true. I could binge and sublimate the anger through cookie dough froyo but I would still have to clean the store afterward.

So about a month or so ago I was having issues remembering to take my meds so I decided to start going on them again really slowly, like starting with 40 mg for several weeks then when I was sure it had built up in my system I could go to 60 mg. Now that it's February I thought it was time to start taking 60 again so I've started doing that and I hope this time around I actually give the Prozac a chance to work before being a moron again. Haha Dr. Gordon hates it that I'm prescribing doses to myself without any direction from a psychiatrist. I don't need one though. I've been on this medication since I was twelve. I practically invented it.

Oh, oh, oh. On Thursday my mom and dad had their little session with Dr. Gordon to talk about me. It sounds like it went well. I am dying to hear what Dr. Gordon's second impressions of the parents are. Bleghh. I better start cleaning up if I want to finish closing by 11:00.

Woah, is it the end of the week again? Well, as promised, here's my behavior summary for the past seven days:

THIS WEEK'S BINGE COUNT: 1
THIS WEEK'S RESTRICTION COUNT: 1

I wonder...

Do you ever think that by maybe altering one area of your life, everything else would suddenly fall into place? This might sound ridiculous but think about it- how many of you have ever thought something like, if I could just lose five more pounds I would be so much more outgoing, or if only I had a boyfriend/girlfriend then I wouldn't be so lonely all the time, or if I lived in a warmer climate I wouldn't be depressed. I tell myself stuff like this all the time (not so much the boyfriend one though. The only guys I've ever known were stupid and horrible). I like to imagine there is a quick-fix for my problems and while I guess I know it's unreasonable to expect this, I'm starting to think there could be some truth behind the belief. Take my job at the ice cream store for example... I have worked incredibly hard to become rational and composed around food. I eat when I'm hungry, stop when I'm full, I'll have a cookie if someone happens to be baking them, and I know when I'm feeling emotional hunger vs. physical hunger. But when I'm at the store, it's like I'm on a different planet where the meal plan doesn't exist, my hunger cues don't mean shit, and the eating disorder has full rein. So I have to wonder, if I didn't work at an ice cream store, could I, WOULD I, have a shot at leading a normal life around food?

This is not just a rhetorical question that I'm throwing out there into the blogosphere. What do you guys think? I asked my brother and he said (cynic that he is) that if I couldn't binge at work I would probably start doing it at home again. Really? Okay, so lets say I up and quit and took a job working at a book store instead. Am I really still so dependent on bingeing that I would go out of my way to start buying ice cream and junk at grocery stores again? I mean, bingeing at the ice cream store is one thing because how am I supposed to resist with all these sweets taunting me for hours on end? But if I just removed myself from the triggering stimuli, perhaps I'd be closer than ever to that thing called recovery.

That's right, woodchuck-chuckers!

Happy Groundhog Day, everyone! It is absolutely terrible outside. It snowed all night and then turned to rain this morning so shoveling was an absolute nightmare of wetness. After like half an hour of being outside I asked my dad if I could go inside and do housework instead and he said okay so I cleaned the upstairs living room.

I ended up having a phone session with Marci yesterday because of how awful the roads were. I tried driving out to Cambridge to make our appointment but the car kept skidding and making alarm noises so I had to turn around and just call her from home. All in all it was an okay session but towards the end she said something that kind of made me feel depressed and bad about myself. I'm sure she meant it to sound encouraging but it really didn't feel that way. I'd rather not dwell on the comment though. I feel like that would just make it worse and I kind of want to forget about it. Just thought I'd put it out there. Sometimes even the people you really count on for support can let you down.

I'm happy it's February. I love the beginnings of new months. I'm not ready for spring yet though... I can't even think about wearing shorts at this weight.

There's nothing good on t.v. I can't wait for American Idol tonight. My mom asked me to text Heather and invite her over to watch with us but I really don't feel like seeing her.