not butterflies and rainbows.

I'm finally here--at college. I was at ACE from January to August counting down the days and telling everyone that once I got to college, that'd be it. I'd be healed. Magically. It'd be Butterflies and Rainbows and pure happiness and bliss. And everyone said "stop biting your time. it doesn't work like that" and I nodded and said I knew, but really I was thinking "you know nothing, go fuck yourself". So I broke my record of one month purge-free my second day in Illinois. Anxiety is eating me alive and I'm quickly spiraling down to where I was when I got chucked into IOP at ACE in January. Multiple purges in a day...I'm getting into inpatient territory here and I know it. It's not even bingeing. I'm not even eating normal meals, I'm restricting and purging...so of course when I had a blood test my levels were insanely fucked up and now I'm going to some hospital for groups. My old individual was right. She said she didn't think I was ready to go. She said "good luck, I hope everything works out...I just don't think you're ready". So I didn't talk to her in sessions for a month. I'm so mature. I want my first individual back. I haven't even seen her since December, but I was the most connected with her. And only two at ACE..out of a grand total of 14 or something...counting the useless interns. Anyway. This is going nowhere...just like my recovery.

It's really hard to love yourself after hating yourself for so long. That's what I've come to. 5 years later and I still detest every part of myself. I carry around that stupid shell from ACE. It's in my purse. I don't know where to put it, so I just left it there. I see it every once and a while when I look for stuff in my purse, and it's the strangest feeling of warmth and acceptance. And regret.

It's not that I'm having a bad time. Because I'm not. But when I'm having fun, it's usually because I'm drunk or high. Or both. Like last night...which was the best night I've had so far, and I was drunk and high with an insanely hot guy. But he ruined it by being all over me. Which brings up the irony of wanting a relationship extremely bad because I want to feel loved. But I can't be touched. I don't want to kiss anyone...I don't even want to hug or hold hands. I don't want to be loved because I know it'll end and I don't know if I can be loved. I don't think I can accept it. I feel like such an idiot saying I "can't" be touched. I've had nothing traumatic happen to me relating to that...but I hate when people are affectionate towards me. I hate being brushed up against, and do not hug me unless you ask first...I feel like such an idiot for acting like that. I have no reason to. Am I just that much of a cold-hearted bitch? Apparently. I should've gone to inpatient this summer and gone to UGA or something. That's not what I wanted but I don't want to be in this place emotionally either. Getting out of Georgia made it worse because of my anxiety--according to the ACE scale...I'm a constant 10. Unless, of course I'm high. I should really stop drinking and smoking so I don't have other addictions to worry about. Fuck it. Maybe groups will help. Or maybe my parents will say "what the fuck, you're not better? ok. You're out of school, go to inpatient and then live at home until you can figure your goddamned life out".

SOMEONE BUILD ME A TIME MACHINE.