scared of being scared. but home is sweet.

all anyone asks are these two questions:
1. so, what did you do for that month and a half?
2. so....you're better now?

umph. i don't want to answer either.
because what i did for that 51 days (a little over a month and a half. it's like a month and 3/4. let's respect the time, people.)...is so much more than the groups and sessions i sat in. and the dinners and lunches and breakfasts and snacks that i was told to put more food on my plate, put some food back, try and finish your meal, etc. and the evenings spent sitting staring out the window at the mountains on my phone with my parents, trying not to break down. and the times sitting, knitting and joking with people just as fucked up as me. the 51 days was more than sitting in that ugly striped chair in the corner or crying in front of everyone for the first time. it was more than the 6 scarves i knitted or 10 girls i got close to. i learned so much about myself. and i grasped 'why' this eating disorder surfaced. and this leads into the next question...because...yes, i'm better. but THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M FIXED. in fact, my second to last night (which should have been my last night, but delta sucks)...i "acted out"...and did it again in the airport during the awesome 6 hour delay. but that doesn't discount my 49 days. i still went 49 days with no symptoms...except the few times i bypassed the 'healthy fat' station at meals....which hardly counts, in my opinion. i gained so much from those 49 days...(no pun intended).

i learned a lot. i'll leave it at that.

now, i'm laying in my bed and wanting nothing more than to never leave its safety. i don't want to go back to school. i'm afraid.

i'm afraid of trevor. i don't really like him. hardly even as a person. it was just nice...that someone finally cared about me...THAT much. he cared about me so much, that when i pushed away, he came after me. which was really nice until i realized i don't need someone to run after me. now it's just annoying and i have realized that he has sooo many of his own issues i can't deal with.

i'm afraid that i won't have any friends. i have chris and lucy, but i have hardly talked to either of them. what if they don't give two shits that i'm coming back? what if i don't meet anyone new? i need to have friends. i need to have those relationships. it helps...go figure.

i'm afraid of the cafeteria. i've done well food-wise since i've been home, but i'll consider it my 'step-down' program. my own decisions are partly made by the fact that my mom has the right stuff in the pantry. at my wonderful, 3x3 dorm....we generally have a great assortment of poptarts, cookies, cheez-its...and some grapes that have been in the refrigerator all semester.

i'm really afraid that i don't want to go back. i kind of want to stay in forsyth, and everyone has told me to do so...and i don't know if it's my defiance that's going back, or the part of me that's more afraid of staying home than going back to school.

because honestly.....i don't want to be at either place.

i'm thinking of transferring.

but on a happier note, i got my tattoo today, which i love.



christmas really sucked. i didn't like anything my mom got for me. which isn't her fault. it's all off the list i sent her, but since i didn't try any of it on, it all kind of looked shitty...which i would have known if i did a test run. but online shopping has never been my forte. i definitely need a mall drive-by.

which we're doing tomorrow, so that's exciting.

i just don't want to have my last day here. i don't want to admit that to my mom. i don't want to go coop myself up in that teeny fucking dorm room.

it's so suffocating. i'm so raw right now. treatment opened me up and i need to put myself back together...but going back to school seems like...(i'm getting a little crazy with this metaphor) throwing salt on the opened wound.

wahhh.