After going home, I'm pretty positive that staying would be insanely beneficial.
But while at home, after being blatantly asked how I'm doing with my eating disorder, I said "great."
Which is only half false because I'm doing great with my eating disorder, just not great at fighting it. But I know my dad wasn't making sure I was doing everything my ed voice is saying...wrong context.
The familiarity and smell of my house almost made me cry. Laying in my bed was overwhelming...
Whenever I was in my hole of depression last year, I'd put my headphones on and curl up in a ball in my bed and go into my own little world. I have been longing for that almost since I've been here. I don't think it's a helpful thing to do, but it's a comforting thing to do.
I was supposed to wake up at 5am so I could shower and do my hair and makeup for the wedding and catch my cab at 7am. After a night with an amazing start and end and questionable middle....I decided to stay up from 3-5 so I wouldn't risk sleeping through my alarm, since I was pretty intoxicated. T, L, and I fell asleep talking on the student center couches for a little so I decided it'd be ok to sleep for an hour and went back to my room at 4. I texted T for 30 minutes in which I was wide awake so I deleted my 15 minute warning alarm at 4:45.
At 7:45 my dad called to make sure I was at the airport. I was still sleeping. After crying and freaking out on the phone with my dad, I pressed a wrong button (really, I did) and called T. I noticed like a minute and a half later as I was still packing and screaming at my roommate because I was so panicky and stressed. He got me the number for the cab and they were there within 30 minutes...so it was 8:30 and my flight took off at 10.
Everything had to take longer and I got randomly selected to be extra-security searched with the high-intensity scanner and wand and patting-downage. I got to my gate as they were closing the doors and passed out in my airport seat.
I cried from the time I woke up until the time I fell asleep. I haven't cried that hard, or at all since my car accident in May. Especially not in public. It was mortifying.
But landing in Georgia and driving around my familiar construction-site of a city was perfect. Getting my nails done at my usual place and going to lunch with my mom at my favorite restaurant and getting ready in my bathroom was perfect. I just want to stay there and soak up its familiarity and figure my shit out. I almost cried when I got back to Illinois. I didn't want to be here at all.
So, I haven't done the homework from my 10am and it's 3:26am.
I'm afraid I'm going to crash and burn and get stuck in a terrible place though.
My parents honestly annoyed the shit out of me and I didn't want to be near them. Also scary...that's how I acted in the deepest of my ed, I was terrible to them. I'm trying to tell myself it's because I was hungover and had gotten maybe 6 hours of sleep over two days. But if I was happy enough to be there, that wouldn't have mattered. I could have been nice despite my exhaustion. I was terrible and rude because I'm hiding things and lying.
So how can I be so aware of everything I'm doing to keep going in the opposite direction I should be? I have no intention of trying to do better. And the only reason I can come up with is that I'm fat. Which may be true, but it's a stupid reason.
Stupid Kate Gosselin and her stupid tummy tuck and 7 mile a day runs. Stupid skinny celebrities and their trainers. I want to look like that, even if it's not realistic.
I don't even know what I'm saying, I know I'm being terrible and depressing and annoying as hell...but even though I'm so goddamn whiney I need to write it down. Even though it rarely makes sense at all.
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