A word about perfectionism

I've been thinking a lot about perfectionism lately. We talk about it all the time in groups because perfectionism is pretty much a prerequisite to developing an eating disorder. It's funny, people tell me that I have perfectionistic tendencies, but I find it sort of hard to believe and I always get a little frustrated when I hear that. When I think of perfectionists I imagine most of the girls I went to High School with- rich, pretty, thin, and ivy league-bound. They took all advanced placement classes and got straight A's, maintained social lives, sports and extra-curriculars. I was most definitely NOT that girl. I was (and still sort of am) the freaky chick who ate lunch either alone or with one friend in the hallway or on the basement stairs, who skipped midterms and took easy classes so I wouldn't have to try- I needed all my free time to focus on weight loss anyways. No, I am most certainly not a perfectionist. Although, it's pretty safe to say I'm not the same kid I was in High School. I got into an awesome college and did really well there until I had to go on medical leave. My point though is this, you do not have to BE perfect to be a perfectionist. Look at the following characteristics. A lot of people are like this, and if you have an eating disorder, chances are you will relate to the following:

-belief that perfection can and should be attained
-self worth being almost entirely measured in terms of productivity and accomplishment
-mistakes as evidence of unworthiness
-preoccupation with fear of failure and disapproval
-standards often beyond reach and reason
- all or nothing thinking (which I'm sure you're all familiar with). There are no excuses for fucking up. There is no middle ground, there is no in between. You either suck or you've had a job well done.

Now THAT sounds like me. Even at my very worst, bingeing round the clock, at my heaviest weight, in my weakest moments, I still stay stuck in the mindset of a perfectionist. If I'm thin, I can do anything. If I'm not, I am worthless so I'll remove myself from the world and just indulge the behaviors. I suppose if that's not perfectionism I don't know what it is.

Here's the truth, I do kind of wish I could be perfect. It would be so wonderful to get everything right and never wind up looking stupid. But, and this is a big but, not only are there very few people like that out there, but if there are, they're probably incredibly depressing and uninteresting to be around. I mean, even the brightest and most life changing people in history had mishaps and less than desirable oddities. Virginia Woolf was institutionalized for mental breakdowns, Albert Einstein had to take the 5th grade over again, Martin Luther King plagiarized parts of his doctoral dissertation, and don't even get me started on the royal family. Think about some of most famous and well-known characters in literature! Do we love Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy because they are perfect?! No. We love them because she is a know it all smart ass and he is kind of jerk for the first half of the book. Do we love Emma Bovary because she's perfect? Hells no. We love her because she is delusional and selfish and it's interesting to watch her whole life crumble around her. You catch my drift on this rant, right? Let's give ourselves a break and thank our lucky stars we're as screwed up as we are. We probably have a better shot of making history or winding up in a book someday :)

In Limbo a little bit

Back from my little NYC excursion, and I am so depressed. In some ways, this is a good sign. At least now I know for sure that it's a good idea to live with my Aunt Sarah until second semester starts. Brookline is suffocating. I mean it. Being at home literally makes it harder for me to breathe.

Everything is set up in New York. I have a therapist and I have a nutritionist there now, so I can cross finding a new outpatient team off my list. That feels good to have that done. Oh, I ended up going with the Psy D. She is much more expensive than the LMFT, but in the long run she seemed like she could help me more.

Anyway, all that's left for me to do now is just finish up treatment here, and then I'm free. I'm free. Wow, that sounds weird to say. It's even harder to imagine though. Although, I suppose "free" is an incredibly relative term in this case. Yes, I'll be free from treatment and monitored meals, free from the confines of the house I grew up in and where for the last 18 months have been stuck sabotaging my own health and happiness. I'm also free from the self-loathing and shame that of course comes with having to be an adult living in your parents' house. I am not however, free of the eating disorder quite yet. Don't get me wrong, I am doing LIGHT YEARS better than I was three months ago when I went into residential. When I first started treatment over the summer, I felt like I was being attacked by my own mind. My thoughts, my feelings, the beliefs I had about myself (fat, disgusting, stupid, weak, pathetic), were all consuming, and the only escape I had from those thoughts was through using behaviors. Now, even though I'm not feeling attacked by my eating disorder any longer, I still feel stalked by it. It's still following me EVERYWHERE. I just choose to ignore it 75% of the time.

The body-consciousness has gotten better. I still hate my shape and my overall size, but at least I don't let it keep me from going out in public anymore. For a while in June I physically wouldn't leave my house unless it was to go to therapy or something. I'm guessing it's gotten better lately because I've lost a shit ton of weight. Not like in an eating disordered way! I just wound up shedding a lot of unneeded poundage once I stuck with a meal plan for long enough. Nothing to be too concerned about yet I suppose.

Tomorrow I start my last week in treatment! Hooray!

I feel like Meryl Streep in Sophie's Choice

This business of finding a new therapist in New York is making me so anxious I want to die. Not really die, obviously. I mean it in the figurative sense. Like I wish I could crawl in a hole, and then come out only after someone else has made the decision for me.

I'm here in Manhattan just for the week to scope things out. I've met with two potential therapists and tomorrow I'm meeting with a nutritionist. The nutritionist seemed nice over the phone and her rate is $120 a session which is pretty decent for NYC, so I think I'm all set with her. The therapists on the other hand, I need to choose between. Both specialize in eating disorders, one of them is a clinical psychologist (Psy D.) and the other is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (LMFT). The Psy D. was just incredible. She has a very different approach towards therapy than Emily, my therapist in Boston, but she seems really experienced and smart. Her methods are focused a lot on experiential treatment, AKA mindfulness and moment to moment type stuff. She's all about putting yourself right in the middle of what scares you most, and conquering those fears. She said something to me in our intake appointment that just blew my mind. I was talking about how for so long I've avoided trying new things or following my interests because I know I won't be as good as other people, and I know I won't be talented or skilled enough to feel proud of anything I accomplish. She said, "Okay, but imagine how much time, energy, brain-power, and determination you've put into your eating disorder. Think how many years you have invested in the binge/restrict cycle. That takes more ambition than most people have. If you can do that you can probably do anything." I was like, holy shit. I had NEVER thought about it that way. Here is the one big problem though- her rate is $190 a session.

The other lady, the LMFT, was also very good. She's a lot younger, her approach is probably more evidence based and practical. She uses a lot of cognitive behavioral therapy I think. She was very sweet and made me feel really good about myself, just in the brief half hour that we met. She said she could tell I had worked very hard to accomplish so much in treatment, and she said her first impression of me was that I was articulate and bright. That was nice to hear! She is incredibly organized. She said if we start together she would want to be in touch with my treatment team back home and the outpatient program I'm in right now. She thinks group therapy is really important, and she gave me some information on where to find the best ones. I liked her a lot too. Her rate is $175 per session, but she has a sliding scale so it might turn out to be less.

I simply have no idea. NO FUCKING IDEA. I hate this. I want both of them! I think what it comes down to is this: If I choose the Psy D., I'll probably be doing more soul searching and self examination than I ever could have imagined myself being capable of. If I choose the LMFT, I'll get to work with this really awesome, down to earth therapist, who seems to genuinely care about and understand what I'm going through. I will make a decision by Friday. That is the deadline I'm giving myself.

Any thoughts? Advice? I'd love to know how other people went about choosing their therapists.

HELLO!!!

Whhhhaaaaat? It's been forever! I didn't even know my blog still existed. This is good. SO much has happened since the last time I was here. I certainly won't delve into all of it right now. Well, let's see. Where did we leave off...? Oh, that's right. I was at teetering on the brink of ED insanity, and had pretty much given up all hope of ever getting better. I stayed helpless and out of control like that for about month or so before FINALLY doing something about it. There is really only so much rock bottom a person can handle. I threw up my hands and checked back into treatment.

For those of you who are reading this for the first time, or for anyone who has forgotten, here is my story (the condensed version): My name is Eliza. I am 21 years old, and I have had an eating disorder since I was 14. My formal diagnosis (if you put any stock in that sort of thing; I don't) is EDNOS, which stands for Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified. Isn't that a horrible name to give a mental illness? Anyway, I fall under that category because I've been all over the place in terms of specific eating disordered behaviors and patterns. I started off with anorexia in high school, and then at certain point I got too hungry and sick of being hungry so I started binge eating. It was like that on and off for the rest of high school and the beginning of college. I was constantly dieting and trying to reach a weight that I could never healthily stay at, and then once I got to that weight I would binge and gain it all back again. About two years ago though, in the middle of sophomore year of college, I lost too much weight and had to go on medical leave. I've been on leave since January 2009, and I've been through treatment twice. The first attempt was a big fat misfire because my parents had forced me into it. Rule #1 of recovery: TREATMENT DOES NOT WORK ON PEOPLE WHO DON'T WANT TO BE THERE. I kept on trying to lose weight throughout treatment. I was compulsively exercising, leaving out exchanges from my meal plan, and lying to my team about it the whole time. In the long run, the constant dieting and rigidity just set me up for more and more binges, and ultimately it got to the point where I gave up restricting and exercise and solely engaged in bingeing. I eventually became overweight, and consequently fell into an immobilizing depression. That's when I put MYSELF back in treatment. That was over this past summer, and now here I am.

Whew. And here is the current plan for my future: I'm finishing up treatment this fall, and then I'm going to live in New York City with my Aunt Sarah until second semester starts in January. Then, HOPEFULLY, I will FINALLY be ready to go back to college.

Anyways, I want my blog to be different this time around. I want it to be recovery focused and healthy. That doesn't mean I'm not going to bitch and rant about bad days and how much I hate myself every once in a while, BUT I am setting some ground rules. I will never include specific numbers (weight, calories) because I know how triggering it can be for other people and the last thing I want is to make you guys feel like shit. That's what eating disorders are there for, right? Heh heh. I also will never encourage or suggest any ED behaviors- and that includes dieting. Yes, I've struggled with binge eating, and yes I've struggled with my weight, but for someone with an eating disorder, dieting is a death trap- no matter what size you are. Lastly, I promise that if I start to relapse, I'll stop blogging. That might seem extreme and maybe even a little nonsensical, but eating disorders are poisonous and I will not allow mine to invade this space.

Well, that's it for now. More to come. It's good to be back :)

Here we go again

A couple weeks ago I starting thinking about time travel. Actually, I wasn't so much thinking about it as I was obsessing over it. The idea itself makes me a little mental. There are fanatics out there who literally pour their sweat and blood into substantiating these theories like special relativity, gravitational time dilation... parallel universes. What the hell? I think the reason why I started obsessing and worrying about it (besides not currently being on medication), was because I can't get over the possibility of there being another ME somewhere out there. I mean, I guess I know it's probably not possible. But nothing is IMPOSSIBLE. So if there is another Eliza out there in space time, what is she up to?

I'm starting treatment again. I am so far gone this time. The eating disorder has literally invaded and seized control of my brain so firmly, that I sometimes forget who I am and where I am. Maybe I'm making it sound worse than it is but I don't think so. I go for hours sometimes thinking about nothing but food and eating and weight and then when I finally come back to earth I've been gone so long I don't know how to re-acclimate myself so I just binge because I don't know what else to do.

The thing about my eating disorder right now that SUCKS MAJOR BALLS, is that it's a lot harder to get treatment this time around. A year and a half ago my weight was low and estrogen and iron non-existent so I was essentially a shoo-in for every program out there. NOW, since the eating disorder has maniacally morphed into round the clock binge eating, I'm just another fat girl struggling with the consequences of an unruly appetite and poor willpower, at least that's how the insurance companies choose to see it. It's very disheartening. If there is another Eliza who exists in a parallel universe, I hope the health care on her planet is far less corrupted.

The good news is I found a place that will take me. It's in Cambridge and I can start at the Partial Hospital level, which is day program. Ideally, I should be in residential. I'm still pushing for residential. My nutritionist thinks I need 24 hour supervision and so does my therapist, but right now we're not sure if there is enough medical evidence to warrant it (i.e. I'm not anorexic anymore, or purging, so it's not serious enough yet). I have an assessment there on Thursday, so I'll know more by then but for now it's looking like day program- probably starting sometime next week. I can't believe I'm back here :(

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie...

Sooooo.... I think I'm going to take a break from the blog posting- just for a little while. I need to get back on my feet, I need to crawl out of the rut of depression and ED behaviors, I need to study for my mid term next week, and I've been feeling guilty for not writing as much as I would want to. I can't stand the way my words sound anymore. They make me sick. Trying to flesh out my feelings and thoughts and put them into words is making me sick even at this very moment so I'll make it a short one.

I want to keep reading all YOUR blogs out there, so it's not like I'm just abandoning ship. I am always curious to know how everyone is doing, so I'm gonna keep commenting and stuff.

I'll be back soon. I just need to gather some strength, but I'll be back soon.

Just gotta get right out of here

I took the title for this post from a Queen song because that's what I'm listening to right now.

I'm officially in a slump, I'd say. I'm depressed, I still haven't gotten back on track with my meds so I'm bingeing round the clock and wanting to cry my eyes out at the drop of a fucking hat anytime I think about what I must look like now. I refuse to wear anything besides pajamas or sweats, my room looks like what Japan probably looks like right about now, and tomorrow I have an appointment with Dr. Gordon and I'll have to tell her all this and oh my god I just want to die die die die die die.

I'm never going to get better. Forget the eating disorder, I've completely lost my mind and there is absolutely no hope. Think about it. How many times have I claimed to be "doing better" or "getting back on track" and then something horrible happens and it all falls to pieces? Too many times to count.

The weird part is, I'm outwardly calm and pleasant right now. I was laughing and joking with Mina at the ice cream store, being polite to customers, and totally keeping it together despite the fact that I've lost the ability to form coherent thoughts or feelings. My chest is tight and a part of me wants to cry and scream but I just can't seem to even muster the strength to do those. I literally live this little snow globe existence of a life- settled and normal one day, then shaken up and thrown around the next. And the worst part is, I'm the one shaking the snow globe around!!! Ugh. I realize that sounds ridiculous but in my head it's how I picture it.

I'm totally at a loss for what to do. I think I might start training for the next Boston marathon. Not the NEXT one, but maybe the next next one. I feel like I need something to commit to besides weight loss and recovery and all that other horse shit I'm always yammering on about. I think I could commit to becoming a runner and maybe I'll become really good someday. Plus, running is fun and I need more good wholesome fun. I should probably sort some of the more pressing issues out first though (like the insanity and my overdue parking tickets), before embarking on any new game plans for life.

I hate spring

This afternoon I'm driving up to Maine with my sister. I'm doing that thing again this year where I provide childcare for the Quakers on their spiritual retreat. This year's theme is stewardship and simplicity. It's a good thing I'm just going to be watching the kids because I'm pretty sure I would have nothing to offer to those topics. I'm a terrible steward and I don't live very simply. God, I'm a terrible Quaker! Anyways, I'm sort of nervous about the drive up. It's only three hours or something like that but the longest leg I've ever driven is an hour out into central Massachusetts for my riding lessons last fall, and even that felt like a lot. At least Rachel will be with me.

I can't believe the first week of April is in exactly two weeks.

My brother's girlfriend is an absolute idiot. I always told him he would be a magnet for airheads and bimbos but he was all like oh Eliza I think I have better judgement than that. Ummmm, NO. She's too peppy and over familiar with people, she hardly even greeted me when we met, and she's too skinny. Okay, I know that's not a valid reason for disliking somebody and maybe I'm a little jealous but there you have it. I can't wait for the end of the school year when they'll inevitably have to break up and go off to college.

Hmmmm.... I don't have a lot to write about today so I'm sort of just trying to come up with things to fill this post with.

In Dr. Gordon's office she has these catalogs called The Gurze 2011 Eating Disorders Resources Catalogue. Come to think of it, Marci has them all over her waiting too. Anyways, they're actually pretty cool. They're filled with books you can order, and tips for how to avoid bingeing and purgeing and stuff. Then at the back they list practically every single treatment center in the U.S. I was actually surprised to find out that there are only three credible centers in Massachusetts. McLean Hospital (the one that the institution in Girl, Interrupted was based off of), Laurel Hill Inn (the one I went to), and then CEDC (Cambridge Eating Disorders Center).

I binged yesterday and the day before :( The weird part is, I don't think it was because I'd restricted. The first binge on Wednesday was because I had to open the ice cream store at 10 a.m. and then stay all by myself until 6 p.m. It was raining and I was alone and there were no customers, and even though I had my little lunch or whatever, I just felt like I was going to be so bored and the only way to get through the day would be to binge eat. Then yesterday, I binged again, and not so much out of hunger as it was out of, I feel like eating a lot of ice cream. Also, Michelle was making herself a shake and it made me want a treat. Anywho, I had a big breakfast today so that I can be off on a good start to the weekend, and then I decided to take my meds also so maybe that will help. Hey, maybe I binged because I haven't been taking my meds! Hmmm. It's funny how things start to make sense when you think about them.

My life is a joke

I do not understand parking in Cambridge. I've been getting ticketed so much lately, so I decided to play it safe this time and park in one of the lots by Harvard, but once I finished my appointment with Marci (which is only like 45 minutes long) and drove out, the guy charged me fourteen dollars! I might as well have just parked illegally outside her office and taken the twenty dollar ticket! Well, that's what I get for driving instead of walking/taking the bus.

It was a good session today. I was sort of relieved because after taking a long hard look at the past week and a half, the restriction has not been as serious as I think I made it sound. Yes, I've been eating less than the meal plan calls for, and YES, restricting food intake to make yourself feel better or to relieve anxiety is eating disordered, BUT I really haven't been restricting all that much. I think maybe I wanted it to sound like I was but I'm not. I'm glad I was honest with Marci about it though. Now we can just forget about it and move on.

I'm watching Silence of Lambs with my brother (he claims it's for school. Ha!). I love this movie so much. It's like my fourth or fifth favorite film.

Last night I closed the ice cream store with the other new employee that we hired, Richard. He's a nice guy and a lot more helpful with cleaning and stuff than Michelle is. I'm telling you, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Working at the ice cream store I mean. I know I'm not obligated to stay there forever or anything, but it's just getting to be so much more work now that the warm weather is here and customers are coming in and out all day. I certainly can't get away with watching Netflix or bingeing on froyo while I'm working anymore :) I can't quit though. Apparently I owe a whopping 500 dollars in overdue parking tickets from months ago. I have the money, but it's just the most depressing situation ever because if I'd just paid them when they were due I wouldn't have this problem. Ugh, it sucks. So quitting would just make me feel even worse because I wouldn't be able to make any money to make up for it. Booooooooo.

Here are things I need to do this week: (just fyi this list is more for my own organizational purposes. I'm not trying to brag or show off how cool and conscientious I am, because I'm not)

-pay parking tickets
-call Beth Israel Hospital and give them worker's comp information about the accident
-call and set up an appointment with a psychiatrist about meds
-return Netflix DVD's
-get a smoothie from Fresh City at some point
-review statistics notes for class next week
-buy Easter cards to send out to people in a few weeks
-figure out when I'm going to England (before or after California? I don't know!!!)
-call CrazyHorse and give them credit card information so I can get a refund on riding boots that I returned months ago

Bad omens

Tomorrow my mom is having a colonoscopy so I have to get up super early to drive her there and then pick her up afterwards. Great. Mondays used to be my sleep-in days and now I'm a chauffeur for the decrepit.

I'm having second thoughts about the newest girl that we hired, Michelle. She is cool and fun to chat with, she's only been working at the store for a week and already her smoothies are the perfect consistency, but besides making the stuff and waiting on customers, she kind of does absolutely nothing. She sits by the counter and texts her boyfriend, she makes herself enormous milk shakes, and when it's time to close she never stays with me until I'm done cleaning the store. In fact tonight she actually asked if she could leave right at 10 p.m. and I didn't really know what to say so I was like, "Sure!" I'm SUCH a pushover :( The thing is (and I was talking about this with Dr. Gordon last week), I'm actually fine cleaning the store all by myself because it's a lot easier to do something myself than explain it to someone else who won't do it right. I just like having company during my shifts now.

I haven't taken my meds in almost a week. AAAAAaaah I'm falling off the wagon again, I know it. Technically nothing disastrous has happened yet like in terms of bingeing or sleeping all day but I really need to get consistent and STAY consistent with taking them. Otherwise something bad will certainly happen.

There has been a major drop in food consumption this week. Nowhere near full blown starvation but certainly less than my meal plan requires. I haven't been calorie counting but if I had to make a rough estimate I'd say I've been eating between 1,000 and 1,200 calories a day. So... not disastrous but Marci would call it restriction. Last week I was writing stuff in on my planner and I started making a weight loss schedule for myself, just like old times. I put in a weight for myself to be at by the end of the month and then afterwards I started figuring in how long it would take for me to get to my "skinny" weight if I lost 1-2 pounds a week after that. Taking into account how long it's taken me to lose weight in the past on the amount of food I've been eating, if I continue this way I will be "thin" by my birthday in May, and "skinny" by early summer. I don't know why exactly the urges to restrict have been so strong lately. All I know is that it is getting more and more frustrating having to live in this body and more than ever I need a change.

Too tired for a title

I was talking about blogs with my mom the other day. Whenever she sees me writing a post she asks if I've had a binge. "Did you have a binge?" I hate the way she makes it sound like I just took a shit on the carpet or something. I think she assumes that since I started this blog to help me make sense of the eating disorder, I ONLY write when I need to report or analyze a behavior. She asked what my therapist thought about blogging, since Dr. Gordon had mentioned something to her about how reading other people's can be triggering. I actually made a pretty strong case for the opposite. One thing I've noticed over the past year, just reading other people's ED blogs, is that MOST people are using it as a recovery tool in some way or other. I mean, of course everyone is going to have posts that talk about binge/purge episodes or not wanting to gain weight, but most people who are really entrenched in their behaviors sort of don't have the time or inclination to address or tackle their issues. I don't know. Surely this isn't true of everyone but it makes sense to me and even my mother admitted I might have a point.

I feel a little badly about not posting every day, or at least every other day. Sometimes it's because I'm waiting for comments and I like for people to read before I write a new one, and other times I want to write but I don't think the subject is worthy enough to have it's own post. This is kind of a ridiculous way of thinking since the point of An Unexpected Twist (ugh, hating the title all of a sudden btw) is to write WHAT I FEEL LIKE WRITING ABOUT.

This week has been... just average I suppose. I sort of restricted, which is new because I haven't felt like doing that in forever. I'm feeling apathetic. Apathetic and spiteful. I think the restriction is coming from the spiteful place. I just feel like spiting everybody, including myself, by not eating and losing lots of weight. Clearly that last one won't happen just from a few measly days of restriction, but it feels good in the moment. I'm just so tired of being heavy and at the same time not being able to do anything about it. I have GOT to stop complaining so much about it though! I just realized that this is like the third or fourth post in a row that I've written about wanting to lose weight. It must unbearable for you guys.

Spring is in the air and fat is everywhere

Well last night, instead of futzing around on the computer and munching on M&M's as usual, I spent the evening training a new employee named Michelle. She's pretty nice and all, and I am grateful to finally have someone else, ANYONE else, in the store with me, but training people is a lot of work. I showed her how to clean some of the machines, and how to mop the floors and stuff, but she kind of didn't do anything right and I didn't want to say anything or make her feel bad, especially since we seemed to be getting along, so I just let her leave early and stayed late to re-clean everything she'd tried to do. Plus her boyfriend came to pick her up at 10:00, and even though she said she didn't need to leave early, I felt really rushed with him waiting around in the store while we cleaned up so I figured I would save us all the trouble and told them they could both go. When I told Dr. Gordon this today she said, "Eliza!" and then went on to explain that by not correcting Michelle I'm not only not training her how to clean the store, but I'm also creating extra work for myself that I shouldn't have to do. I understand, but I don't actually feel like it's all that much extra work. From inside my head it would actually be more stressful to have to tell Michelle that she did a bunch of stuff wrong. Whatever. I'm working again tonight but I'm not sure if I'm training anybody. I kind of hope not...

Tomorrow I have Marci and my homework for this week was to track my hunger and fullness during certain meals. According to her, I should feel very proud because this is "advanced nutrition work" and people who are totally wrapped up in their eating disordered behaviors can't do hunger and fullness work since their bodies are all fucked up from restriction and purging or whatever. So I guess I'm supposed to feel good but I don't really. I'd rather lose weight and be pretty again. There are actually a couple of events coming up in the next few months that I know would be so much more enjoyable if I could be thin for them (yes, yes I know how EDed that sounds and yes, yes I'm working on addressing that sort of maladaptive thinking and blah blah shut up). You see, in April my family is going to California for a week to see the sights and visit some friends. My dad's cousin does the sound editing for Pixar studios so we'll get to see some of the behind the scenes stuff of Disney movies that haven't even come out yet! I've never been to California but from what I've heard it's lovely and warm and I'd very much like to not be obese there. ALSO, my birthday is on May 26th and I'll be turning 21 and my friends will be home from college for the summer and they want to take me out drinking and bar hopping to celebrate- another event I'd like to not be disgusting looking for. I'm also going to England with my dad some time in April because he has business to take of there and if I should meet the queen I'd like to look presentable and without stomach rolls. My bff from school is also spending a year abroad at Oxford, and if I go to England I can see her! And even though I know she wouldn't care all that much what I look like it still bothers me that I'd look this way when I see her. Heheh, she actually reads this blog so I feel funny writing about her as if she doesn't know any of this...

Anywho, maybe one of these days something magical will happen like a good angel will fly down from Weight Loss Heaven and take thirty pounds off my ass for me.

I'm better now

I take back that last post I wrote. I was in a super bad mood but that doesn't mean anything, really. I say/write a lot of things I don't mean.

You know what all you guys should do right now? Go out and rent 127 Hours. The movie that James Franco was nominated as best actor for this year. It's based on a true story about this guy named Aron Ralston who goes out hiking on Blue John Canyon in Utah one day and he falls into a slot canyon and gets his arm pinned by a boulder. He stays stuck this way for 5 days before finally doing the unthinkable to save his life. It's just... the most inspiring film I've ever seen in my life. I really need for you guys to see it so you'll know what I'm talking about. It's a little gruesome at one point, so if you don't have a strong stomach for blood and stuff you might want to prepare yourself a bit. I'm serious. I used to pride myself on how well I could tolerate scenes with blood but this one scene had me absolutely cringeing and heaving. Now that I've warned you though, I will honestly proclaim that Ralston is my new hero. He makes me want to be a better person.

Anyway though, like I was beginning to say, I feel bad for being so negative and antagonistic a few hours ago. I won't give up on recovery or whatever, but I am rather sick of the weekly shit sessions with Marci and Dr. Gordon. I hate that they're both so much skinnier than I am.

Screw this

I'm so bored with my life right now. I've had nothing of consequence to write about this week and the only reason I'm writing right now is because my last post was on Wednesday and I feel obligated to report something.

I'm super angry that the warm weather seems to be settling in. I'm not prepared for spring and certainly not prepared for the clothing it calls for. I need to start losing weight I think. I'm so sick of all this following a meal plan shit. I don't need a meal plan. What I need is to cut back on calories because I'm enormous. The worst part is that I'm not even exaggerating about being fat anymore. Even Marci admits that my weight is higher than it needs to be because of how long I've kept myself in the binge/restrict cycle. I think she was trying to make me feel better by telling me this but honestly all it does is make me feel like shit. Then she tries to force a 2,500 calorie-a-day meal plan on me? This is bull shit and I am not going to stand for it any longer. I'm sure some people DO need that much, but those people are probably at healthy normal weights and don't have any weight to lose. I am unfortunately not one of those people. I think Marci is under the impression that I have no control over what or how much I eat so she just has me eat a shit ton amount every day thinking that maybe it'll keep me from bingeing. HORSE SHIT I SAY.

What's wrong with Charlie Sheen, btw? "Depression is a choice, and today I choose not to be depressed." What the fuck?! Is he aware of the words he is saying?

I want to lose twenty pounds by my birthday in May. I do get sad when I hear myself think these types of thoughts, not just because it's anti-recovery, but also because I've tried to lose weight soooooooooooo many times but I just get too hungry to stick with it. I just wish I could find some sort of medium between crash dieting and healthy dieting. I mean who knows? I haven't tried to stick to a realistic, non-restrictive diet in a really long time. Maybe I've changed and I can handle it now?

Where's Eliza?

I am so out of it lately. It's like my brain has been somewhere else for weeks. First there was that epic mistake I made last week where I let someone down and ended up disappointing myself and my family, then last night I had a statistics exam and had I taken a shit on the test itself I probably would have done better. And TODAY, I totally forgot that I was supposed to open the ice cream store at 10:00 so Selim had to come down and open it and I came an hour late. The worst part is that everyone has been being so goddamn nice to me. Selim looked disappointed at first but then he told me it was all okay and to take a deep breath. My stats professor told us not to worry about how we do on the test because probability is the hardest unit in statistics and even third year calculus students struggle with understanding it.

And now I'm bingeing. Well, I'm eating ice cream. I'm not really sure if that counts as a full blown binge.

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.

I miss Marci

Dr. Gordon seemed kind of off today. She seemed tired. She didn't seem to be listening to me all that much. Has this ever happened with any of your therapists? In fact, I could have sworn at a few points she was actually nodding off... either that or she just blinks really slowly. Anyway, I felt jipped when I left the appointment. I mean, my parents pay like two hundred dollars per session out of pocket and I only see her every two weeks. What the hell?

Tomorrow I see Marci, which is good because I've been falling off the wagon today and yesterday. Seeing Marci is a lot like taking Ritalin. You feel empowered and positive for the first three hours after taking it, then it wears off and you forget what it's like to feel happy so you need another Ritalin. I'm not a drug addict. But you see how this makes sense though, right? After I see Marci I'm good for like five days. In fact, usually after I see Marci I forget I have an eating disorder at all because she's given me all these pearls of wisdom and awesome meal plan tips so I'm like hoooray! I'll never binge again! Ugh, I hate that. Maybe I should start seeing her twice a week. Although that seems like a bit too often to see one's nutritionist.

I miss riding. If it weren't so freaking cold I'd make a little Saturday trek out to Massachusetts no-man's next weekend and spend some quality time with the horses.

I'm bored. Just generally bored. I wish it was fall and I could be back in New York.

Hey you know what I think I'm gonna start doing? At the end of every week I'll report any and all ED behaviors I engaged in- as sort of a tracking system of how my recovery is going. Does this sound like a good idea? Of course I might start getting caught up in technicalities of what constitutes a binge and what counts as restriction so I'll just define them now. Bingeing will mean eating past fullness in an out of control manner, and restriction will mean the voluntary withholding of exchanges despite feeling hungry or knowing that my body needs it. So when I say I binged twice this week that means two separate binge episodes, and when I say I restricted twice this week that means I followed my meal plan except for two exchanges (i.e. maybe I skipped a snack on Monday and a protein at dinner on Tuesday). Hey, not bad.

THIS WEEK'S BINGE COUNT: 2
THIS WEEK'S RESTRICTION COUNT: 2

I have to go to the bathroom but I'm the only working in the store...

Does anybody else have a problem with Sundays? I find them mean and spiteful. I'm also angry because I have uterus cramps and I'm semi-bingeing at the moment, at work. I say semi-bingeing because it hasn't really turned in to a full blown, pants-popping binge. In fact, this second frozen yogurt really isn't cutting it for me. The novelty of how good the first one tasted has worn off, and now all I can think about is how I would really rather not be succumbing to the eating disorder. I guess I'll just back out of the behavior now, at least while I'm ahead. After all, I've gone this whole week without bingeing... why ruin it tonight?

My dad is smoking again and I know I'm not being paranoid. Even Jake admitted yesterday while we were driving back from the drug store that I was probably right. We both acknowledged the cigarette stench on his steering wheel, the all-too potent pine tree car freshener hanging from his rear view mirror, and the Altoid tins EVERYWHERE. Plus he never lets us drive his car without surreptitiously running out first and getting rid of the evidence. It makes me want to cry really. I said this to Jake and he just sort of shrugged passively aggressively. "Honestly, I've stopped letting myself care. He's an adult and he can do whatever he wants." I suppose he's right, but I can't just stop letting myself care. How can my father be doing this to himself? He's in his early fifties, he has sleep apnea, high blood pressure, and longevity does not run in the family I'm afraid to say. As someone who also uses maladaptive coping strategies though, what I'm more concerned about are the cognitive roots behind the smoking. Is he stressed at work? Is it money? Is he having problems with my mom? Is it something I did? I'm sure I must be somehow to blame.

It's almost February!! I have so many goals for next month. I'll share them later... maybe on Tuesday since it'll be the first day of February.

Charmed, I'm sure

I'm watching Titanic with my parents. I don't know what is wrong them. I LOVE THIS MOVIE, but my mom is poking fun at the dialogue every chance she gets and my dad keeps going, "Are you ready to go back to Titanic, Eliza?" In imitation of Bill Paxton. OHMYGOSH the scene where Rose goes down to the third class deck and dances with Jack and she's all like I don't know the steps! And then he says, me neither just go with it and then they dance and then they fall in love and ooooooh gosh it's all so romantic and tragic at the same time.

Aaaaah I’ve been MIA from the blog world for what feels like too long! I think it’s only been a few days though. My laptop has decided to be a little bitch and stop working so I’ve been engaging in all my online activities on other people’s laptops, which isn’t exactly convenient so hence my not being able to blog.

Things have actually been pretty decent around here. I’ve been working a lot, despite the snowstorming and everything. You know, I can’t remember a winter when we had this much snow. I’m kind of scared actually. There’s this old abandoned gas station up by the ice cream store where I work, and since the snowplow doesn’t need to remove the snow there, it’s piled up like four feet high you can’t even see the entrance anymore. I almost died walking to work it was so deep on the sidewalks! I felt like Emmy Rossum In The Day After Tomorrow. Only I’m not skinny and pretty and I don’t think I’ll end up with Jake Gyllenhaal in the end.

Anyway, as I was saying, I've made great leaps this week. I've been following Marci's meal plan more faithfully than I ever have before- no snacks left out, no exchange left behind. This is serious people, I am making real steps to banish the binge eating for GOOD. The real secret to rising above the urges is twofold: First, I still let myself eat frozen yogurt and candy at the store, and just about every day too. Marci says people can still be healthy and eat sweets every day, which I think is awesome so I'm sticking to that notion. My second secret is Jane Austen novels. I've read them all before, but I find reading a book for the second or third time can be almost more rewarding than when you read it the first time. For instance, I am choosing to draw strength from the hidden characteristics in Fanny Price that I never noticed before. If you haven't read Mansfield Park, read it. It is possibly Austen's most undervalued novel. I guess I just feel like I've gotten fed up enough with constantly feeling powerless to overcome the eating disorder. Here's hopeing my efforts pay off, lord knows I've tried enough times to get back on track.

Tis late and I'm sleepy

I wish I had something, ANYTHING interesting to write about right now, but it's almost midnight and my brain is absolutely fried from the three straight hours of statistics class I had to endure tonight. The hardest part about math is that you can't exactly tune out during the lessons like you can with other classes. With my psych class last semester for example, everything was presented on power point slides that you could download straight onto your own computer and study at your lesiure. With stats though, each new concept has it's own little obnxious math language which you must have explained to you by a person or else it's just nonsense.

My room has gone back to hell in a hand basket. Is that the saying? Or is it hell in a hand bag? I think it's basket. Anyway, I was able to keep it tidy a couple weeks ago, but then I had a bunch of binge days and stopped caring so now it looks like what I imagine the after affects of a minor explosion would. I've got clothes everywhere, cereal bowls on the floor, books and papers flooding my desk, and my carpet is really wet and gross because of all the glasses of water I've knocked over when I roll out of bed in the mornings. Today my mom asked me if I was ever going to clean it again and I told her not until the troops come home. I figured that gives me some time. Dr. Gordon will be sad when I tell her that I've been taking so little care of my living space. She thinks that when my rooom is clean I take better care of myself in other areas of my life. Which I suppose is true.

OH MY GOD speaking of Dr. Gordon, my MOTHER made an appointment to meet with her. Just the two of them. The other day she confronted me about how distant and curt I was being with her lately and I told her I was just generally frusterated with the way she talks to me sometimes, and especially since she was so mean to me on the ski trip last month. She said sorry and we sort of made up but I guess she still wants some answers and now she's going to the master...

P.S. The spell check is not working on this computer so now you've seen what my grammar and spelling are really like...

I'm bloated :(

I can't wait to see Marci tomorrow morning. Is that sad? I can't help but think that this increased eagerness to see my nutritionist every week is just a sign that I'm becoming more and more helpless. Every Tuesday I go in for my session, with lots of stories, questions, and a ton of new disordered thoughts about food that I've managed to delude myself into believing. For instance this week, I've come to the conclusion that bruised fruit must be less healthy for you since it's brown and nasty. Same with old carrots and lettuce with gross spots on them. If it looks different from the average vegetable it mustn't have anything good in it, so I just skip it as an exchange that day. Come to think of it, I've been recently feeling this way about cheese too... you know how sometimes cheese has hard spots on it if you leave it out for an hour or so?

Anyway, I guess I also feel like since I only get to see Dr. Gordon twice a month I need to make the most out of my appointments with Marci. Which makes sense I think. Also, I can start going back to the support groups at MEDA on Wednesday evenings now!!! I'm so happy because I thought I was going to have a psych class on Wednesday evenings but it turns out the course I signed up for was like waaaaaay more than I was expecting. It's basically a class for fourth year students who are writing their senior papers for grad school and I really had no idea that's what it was. We were going around in a circle saying our majors and what branch of psychology we were planning to go into. I was like uuuuhhhhh... and just made up some random shit because I figured I wouldn't be coming back after that night anyway. Somehow I ended telling everyone I was majoring in criminal justice and wanted to be a forensic psychologist and they were all like, "Wow, how ambitious! You have to have a great deal of empathy and understanding to work with patients like that..." Then I said I was especially interested in that field because my background in the biological sciences had taught me much about the human brain and the many intricacies behind aggression and law transgressing behavior. It was kind of funny actually.... the professor was like, "That is fascinating! Sounds like you already have your research topic for this semester!" Then I said I had to go to the bathroom and went home.

So now I'm down to just the one class... statistics on Tuesday evenings. Booo. I was looking forward to taking what I THOUGHT was a general health psychology class but I guess that's out the window. Maybe I'll find a different class and just join late. Or maybe I'll take on more shifts at work and make lots of money. Well, I'll decide later.

Ugh, who cares.

I don't really feel like writing but I didn't post anything yesterday and I feel bad going two whole days without making an appearance in the blogosphere.

I'm feeling... not so much depressed but more apathetic. Apathetic and bitter. I'm in one of those moods where all I can think about is how unfair my life is so I might as well not try anymore. God wouldn't it be wonderful to just never have to try EVER AGAIN. I would just stay in bed and never get out (except to go to the bathroom and get the door when the chinese food delivery man comes), and there I would remain for the rest of my life. I love sleeping. Sleeping is like crack for me. Did you know on days when I don't have to work during the day I just sleep in until early evening? And then when it's time for me to wake up and walk over to the store it takes every fiber of my being to drag my sorry ass out of bed. That is what my life has come to. But it's okay, it's all okay. I've decided that from now on I'm just going to go through life without caring about what happens. I'm going to become a soulless automaton that just goes to work and goes to class and nothing else. I'm just so tired of having feelings and thoughts all the time and know that sounds ridiculous and even sort of immature but seriously I just wish I could be done with it. There should be some kind of warning label on life, don't you think? WARNING: Not suitable for the faint of heart.

How, do you ask, am I going to just escape from reality and desensitize myself from the world? Haven't quite figured that out yet... but so far I imagine it would involve sleeping even more than I already do, and then distracting myself with crossword puzzles during the waking hours. Crossword puzzles are great for when you just want the world to disappear. Same with running. And frozen yogurt.

I think I'm about to get my period. My head hurts, my back is killing me... pretty much my entire lower half feels like a beaten pinata. Only no candy is involved :(

Ice cream, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways...

I saw Marci yesterday and that was a relief because I felt like I needed to check in with her. Last week she'd asked me to start logging my food intake again, so I bought a little moleskin notebook to use for that. I brought it with me to our session yesterday. She was like, "You have NO idea how useful it is for me to actually SEE what you're eating." She could tell that on days I binged it was because I definitely hadn't had enough food prior to bingeing. She told me, "Anyone would feel like bingeing on the amount of calories you were limiting!" The thing is, I'm not really consciously trying to restrict when I do. I really do think that what I'm having is enough! Apparently I do this because of my history with anorexia but that feels like so long ago now it's hard to imagine that's the real reason why. Anyway, we both agreed that I'll be able to take some major steps in reducing behaviors if I just stick to a meal plan. God, how many times have I told myself I was going to stick to a meal plan though, only to fail over and over again?

It was funny, about halfway through our session Marci asked if it would be okay for her to have a snack and I was like sure. Then she asked me if I wanted anything because she has a pretty stocked pantry in her office. I said no thanks I'll just have water and then she made this really obnoxious face at me as if to say, "You WOULD just ask for water..." So I was like, "Fine bring me a chocolate chip cookie."

Anyway, all joking aside, I guess I've been doing okay this week. I had one binge episode (today at work...whoops), but besides that I've been managing to follow the meal plan that Marci gave to me. Wow... I haven't actually binged anywhere besides work in WEEKS. And I haven't gone out to buy binge food from a store since before Christmas. Think about it... if I didn't work in an ice cream store maybe I wouldn't have a problem anymore!

Ugh, but I can't believe I caved today. Bingeing at work isn't even all THAT much fun. I should remember that for future reference. It's fun for the first ten minutes. Cuz I'm all like, "YUS! Free for all with the dessert!!" Then it starts to get dark outside and I remember that I have to close and that there's all this cleaning to be done and all the fun is over.

My leg itches

Just got home from my first statistics class of the semester. It doesn't seem like it'll be all that bad actually. I mean, I don't hate math... I'm just terrible at it and it takes me about twice as long as most people to finish any sort of math problem. I understand math, and I can DO math, it just takes me forever. When I was in middle school I actually had a math disability and needed an aid from the learning center to hover over me and make sure I was keeping up with the rest of the class. Talk about embarrassing.

Anyway, while I was eating my dinner during the fifteen minute break we get, the girl sitting next to me was like, "I'm an art history major. I haven't taken a math class in five years. What are you taking statistics for?" I thought it was sort of funny that people tend to assume the only reason for ever taking a math class would be because it was required for some other, BETTER area of study. But in all fairness, the only reason I'm taking stats is because it's a pre-med requirement. So I guess I have to yet to actually meet someone who is taking the class because they want to. That's kind of sad :(

And then tomorrow I have my first Health Psychology class, and that should be slightly more interesting. Not that figuring out the standard deviation of a normal distribution curve isn't interesting...

For those of you are relatively new to reading my blog, I'll just clear some stuff up. Boston University is not my real school. I'm taking evening classes there so that I can keep getting academic credit while I continue this never-ending medical leave from my REAL college, which is in New York. I guess I'm following a pre-med pathway, regardless of whether or not I go to medical school. I just love science. I can't start taking all those big year long courses like Chemistry and Biology until I go back to New York, so until then I'm just filling up my transcript with little semester long classes that my advisor recommended I should take in addition to the the big ones.

Okay then, back to today. This morning I slept in too late AGAIN, and woke up half an hour before my appointment with Marci. Actually, I wouldn't even have woken up in time to call her if it wasn't for my cat. Moxie jumped on my bedside table and knocked a glass of water over onto my face, clever kitty. I takes me at least 45 minutes to get there, so there was no way I was going to make it. Luckily it was snowing so I called her and said I was stranded at the bus stop because the public transportation was backed up (I stuck my head out the window so it would sound like I was really outside) and everything worked out. I know it's wrong to lie! Sometimes my moral compass is just a little finicky right after waking up. Anyway, she said she could fit me in tomorrow at 4:00 so that's when I'm gonna see her.

P.S. I've begun to notice a pattern in the titles of my posts... whenever I can't think of a good title I just make a random observation about what my neck or my stomach or my head or some other part of my body is feeling like at the moment. Just thought that was odd...

Mama Drama

I love seeing Dr. Gordon, especially on days when we don't focus on eating disorder stuff the whole time. Today we actually talked about some issues that I'm having with my mother! It was so cool! I felt like a real patient, talking about real problems. I won't go into too much detail about my mom, so I'll just give you the basic gist. It is fairly important that you understand how I'm feeling about her right now, because apparently it could effect other areas of my life. My mom and I have always had a super solid relationship. We're friendly together, I talk about my problems, she gives me advice, tells me about her day and any neighborhood gossip she feels is important for me to know. She has flaws for sure, and we have the occasional argument but other than that everything is fine. On the car ride home from NH over winter break last month, I was having a panic attack of sorts from being squished in the back seat with her and my brother, while my 11 YEAR OLD sister got to sit in the passenger's seat (is that even legal?). I got impatient with Rachel, Rachel got upset, and my mom became frustrated with me and called me a bitch. She said, "You are really being a bitch, Eliza." I didn't respond, but just kept focusing on my breathing since I was so scared of throwing up from the claustrophobia. She kept going however. "No, you are a bitch and you know you're a bitch."

This was almost a month ago. The incident has certainly had a longer lasting effect on me because she seems to think everything is perfectly fine between us. For some reason I just haven't let it go. If my mom had always been an insensitive and unfeeling person it probably wouldn't have been such a big deal, but the thing is that my mom never loses her temper like that. I asked Dr. Gordon if she thought that one experience could change how you felt about somebody. She said that one experience probably couldn't work all by itself to change your opinion of somebody, but rather, it might serve to prove or qualify other aspects of that person's character that you hadn't thought about much before. For instance, my mom was the youngest of all her siblings, just like my sister, so it makes sense she would be more apt to defend Rachel in a situation. It also brought back memories of times when my mom has told me to be more mature or act my own age or be more agreeable when really all I was doing was expressing how I felt. My mother is a compassionate and reasonable person, but usually only when it comes to stuff she can understand or relate to.

Anyway, I've been trying to work on keeping the anger and resentment tucked away for now. My family is really all I've got after all (I don't have many friends), and I wouldn't be able to bear it if I made waves in the household dynamic. This is going to be tough however... I'm not used to bottling up my emotions. I'm pretty expressive most of time. I guess all I can really hope for the time being is that I'm able to sublimate the feelings in a healthy way and NOT through eating disordered behaviors, which is what Dr. Gordon is scared might start to happen.