still confused.

I'm going to dinner with Trevor and his fraternity tonight. It's this "etiquette dinner" thing they're holding. I wonder if proper etiquette includes purging.

I don't want to go.
I love getting dressed up, but I don't like it in this....'date' situation. I don't know. I'm worried I won't look good enough and being on display in front of a bunch of frat guys.
And Trevor is wanting to get more serious and it's making me want to see him less. Because whether or not I want it, I'm afraid of it.

And I am still in the same mode where I want to lay in my bed and watch Gossip Girl.
My motivation to drink myself into oblivion has gone significantly down, which is probably a good thing. I'm tired of having to piece my night together the next morning over Excedrin and Gatorade.
Sooo that makes it hard to get up and go to this damned dinner tonight...if I just want to go to bed after. (alone.)

I think I'm staying here, though.
I mean...I'm probably doing a few weeks to a month of a residential/inpatient thing in some midwestern state in the time between thanksgiving and christmas. But I'm going to be here next semester....and yes, I'll be doing groups and shit. But I'll be at school.
I'm...happy? about it. I'm extremely nervous. I'm extremely anxious.
I'm worried that school and treatment will cancel each other out. I've made it clear that I value school over other things. I made that clear last year in treatment. I was going to use symptoms if it helped me cope with stress of exams better...and it did, so I did.

And I have a rough semester next semester...don't ask me why I decided to switch from English to Business major. I'm keeping my double in Comm and minor in French..but now I have to do finite math or calc by the end of my first year and I fucking hate numbers. So, HELLO 8am math class!

I don't know about it. I'm confused at how I went from going to residential for 2-4 months to doing a month at the most of something similar and then iop...at school.

And I don't know if that's a wise decision or if I'm just glad I'm getting away with it so I don't miss stuff I'm excited about next semester.

...And...part of my uneasiness of being here has to do with Trevor I think. I can't be platonic with him, but I don't want to hold his hand or him to kiss me in public. And I don't want to go to fancy dinners with him.

slkfjalskfjlkajsflkj I don't know what to wear.

(and i still have to quit work. i'm calling tomorrow. i will not go to the holiday meeting. i will not go to my shift this week. i will quit tomorrow. haskfjalskfjklajsf I DON'T WANT TO.)

aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Boys are stupid.
I don't want him to give me butterflies.
I don't want to think about him.
I don't want to wait for his text messages.
I don't want to want him.
I don't want to like him.

My fate is decided in 3.5 hours.
I have never been this anxious in my life.
I'm at a cross between the sound of food making me sick and wanting to eat anything I can get my hands on. Or wanting to run until I collapse. Or wanting to scream, break something, hurt something.
So I'm just going to sleep. Or I might do something stupid.


Please. Please. Please....what? I don't even know what I want to happen.
(because I don't want recovery at all.)


fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkiiiiiinnnnnggggg shittttttttttttttttttt.
i hate having emotions. where the hell did my numbness go? alksfjlaksjfkasjdfoikl

maybe there's a little fight left in me.

But I don't know for sure. 

I emailed the lady in the counseling center, I'm assuming she'll have me start groups. This means I'll have to tell my mom, who I also just emailed. I don't know if it was coincidence, or if she was tipped off, but in her last email she had this in there: 

Are you doing okay?  I know that you are busy and I am glad that you have such good friends.  I just still worry about you.  I know that you can put up a pretty good front.  You seemed happy while we were there but I felt like I noticed a little pain in your eyes.  Sorry-I can't help it-it's a mom thing.

I was going to lie, but instead I wrote this back: 

I don't want you to freak out or anything, but I am struggling a little bit. I stopped seeing the lady in the counseling center a while back, but I just emailed her to schedule an appointment. She had talked about me going to a local place for groups a while back, and I'm assuming that's what she's going to suggest when I see her. I let myself get too busy and put my guard down too much. I'll let you know what she says. I think the insurance plan covers it, but someone would have to look into that more to know for sure...

So that's that. I'm extremely nervous/anxious about what's going to happen. 

I don't really want to stay here anymore. I want to go home and do this there. 

I just know that putting your all into recovery is literally your all. And it's extremely hard to do school and work on top of it. I had to quit work within a month of starting at ACE. I did horrible for my standards my last semester. Not only because there was a substantial time commitment at ACE, but it's draining emotionally, and it made it hard to annotate books and do math problems while I was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me and why. It boils down to it, for me, with my exam grades. I passed. But that's it. I got straight 4s. Average. I know being average isn't bad, but I like being a little bit above. I don't want to settle for average and have to say, well...really, I would have done better, but I was in recovery. I want to be better and then own the shit out of whatever I'm doing. I realized I needed to do something when I got my English midterm back. B. Really, Kelsey? I have gotten perfect scores on every thing I have turned in/taken for that class so far, and I got a B on my midterm. This wouldn't be bad if I did a mediocre job on all of my assignments. I wasn't there mentally for the midterm. I easily could have gotten an A with a bit of focus. I reread the shit I wrote...god. I don't know if I'm making any sense. I'm just tired of saying/thinking "I could have done better if I didn't have my eating disorder on my mind" 

Leaving feels like giving up though. EVERYONE has their shit. I'm not the only person in the world struggling with something. I don't think I should have to leave school to deal with my shit. I don't want it to be one or the other and it seems like it is. 

But that's that. Everyone knows that needs to know...and I'm still ambivalent and nervous about actually getting better. I'm worried about changing. I'm worried about finding out who I am without this monster. Olivia told me once that it doesn't define me, and I shouldn't let it. I do though, I have. Without it....I'm just an average student with crappy attitude. And I don't want that to be who I am. 

But either way, I just got extremely homesick and I want nothing more than to go home. I have never wanted to be with my parents this much, or to be home this much. I just want the familiarity of my room and my home. I hate that I want that since I tried swearing it off so much so I could go. 

And then there's the Trevor thing. Our relationship went from having mutual friends to being drinking buddies to being friends with benefits to him thinking we're dating and me avoiding him. A while back I posted about talking to him about just staying really good friends, and him hating me for it. Well, then comes homecoming weekend and ten shots of rum within an hour. I got pretty damn sloppy and when I get sloppy I get needy and there was a very horny Trevor. So we hooked up and I woke up next to him. Fast forward over an awkward couple of days to hooking up drunk a couple more times and deciding we could be friends with benefits. Then comes last night when he asks to me Greek Formal and if I wanted to date him. This shit has happened to me before, and this is the point where I cut off contact. That's harder to do when I've gotten this close to my little group of friends...and Trevor is an important part of it. I can't just stop talking to him--I'd have to stop talking to my other friends too and create drama of choosing sides. I just don't do the relationship thing...which is stupid because I'm dramatic to the fact that I've never had a relationship, and the opportunity comes and I flee. Emotional connections and me don't get along. 

I'd walk home if I knew the way.


-----

edit:

now what i did is setting in and i want to take it back. ahh. :\

Trust Me.

This is going to be long and non-sensical, just a warning.

I keep getting weird fortunes in my fortune cookies. The first time, they had my favorite ice cream in the cafeteria, and I wasn't letting myself have any. They also had chinese food, so I wanted to see my fortune. It said "It would be good to treat yourself to dessert". Last night, a group of us went out to Chinese and mine said "It would be good to tell someone what's on your mind." I thought about calling a friend because the more I thought on it, I wanted to talk to someone. I was just afraid. I just brushed it off and continued about the night.

T was all worried and didn't want me to drink again. Same with C (My roommate). Well. As college would have it, we did. But someone ended up having weed so we smoked instead. I hate that it calms me down so much because I hate the idea of drugs doing that. If I hate it so much, I shouldn't do it. But it felt really nice to be so chill after how anxious I've been lately. (That makes me sound like a stoner. I'm not, I swear). We hung out and talked, and then T and I went outside and had a cigarette again, just like Friday night. We sat there for a while and he just said "what are you thinking?" ...like it was that easy to just...say that I was thinking about how fat I am and how I'll never be good enough for anybody and that I don't even want to get better anymore, I just want to lose weight and disintegrate. And I don't even know who I am anymore. I don't know who this person is that drinks and smokes and reads sparknotes and doesn't really care about schoolwork. I don't know who the hell I am. I know why I'm like this though, and it's because I think so shit-ily about myself. It's because I'm so engrossed in my eating disorder. It has control over me and I love it. It feels like an old, warm sweater. You know that it's the most hideous sweater and it's been sitting on the floor all year but once you put it back on, it's warm and comforting and you never want to take it off. I don't have to think. I just let it take control. But at the same time, I think overtime. I think about everything but what I should be thinking about. If I was normal, I'd be able to pick up the damn Odyssey and read it and write my essay. But I can't focus on any of the words. It doesn't make sense. If I was normal, I would be able to make a lot of friends and enjoy what's supposed to be "the best years of my life". Everyone said that about high school too, but I'm pretty sure there was nothing worse than that.  I didn't go into my deepest thoughts with T. I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't tell him about the inner workings of my mind. That's too fucked up. I'd never lay that on somebody just because they asked what I'm thinking. I just told him 'my story'. The short version. The whole...I've been making myself throw up since I was 12. Off and on until it got really bad my junior year and my parents found out. I've been in treatment all year and now I'm here. It's harder. Because I'm alone. And then he said the two words that I hate more than anything. "Trust me." I don't trust.  


Other people always let you down. You've just gotta be alone so you won't get hurt. That's how I think of it. You can't control other people. They do what they want. Who's to say that someone will stay true to what they promise? You have to trust that they will but how can anyone do that? How can you be so sure they're not going to hurt you? In my experience, people say: I'm here for you. Call me if you ever, ever need it. I'm not going to judge you. In the few times I've done this, people don't have time. They don't answer, and then they don't call back. They don't want to deal with all of my baggage. I didn't ask them to, they told me to tell them. I trusted that they were telling me the truth. People just want to help you to make themselves feel good. It feels good if you help someone in a moment of crisis, but what happens when I'm always in a moment of crisis? When you could literally call me every hour and I'd have a different worry? When I'm in crisis every time I walk into the cafeteria? That's a lot of phone calls. That's a lot of advice. And people don't get it. "So, why can't you eat the dessert? I'm eating it." "Because it's going to make me fat. It's going to make me explode" "Are you serious? It's good. Just fucking eat it. You're not fat. Get over yourself. Or don't eat it...it doesn't really matter." Maybe that's true. But that's not what support is. It always starts off well, too. They answer every time, they check up on you. Then two weeks later when you're still struggling they're like..."you're not over this yet?" Especially when the person has known you for all 6 years you've been struggling. "Why is this still an issue? You're not 12 years old in dance class. You're a big girl. You know better. I thought that was just a phase."

So how does T expect me to trust him? I've known him for 2.fucking.weeks. I trusted him enough with a lot of this information. Yeah, I wasn't sober but last night at least, I was in a good enough state to tell him I didn't want to talk. But it felt good to talk. I don't know if I'll do it again though. He knows the stuff on the surface, the easy stuff.

When we were sitting there, I just got to wondering...is it worth it? Is anything? What the hell is the point of life? Everyone dies. Everyone works hard to get somewhere but we just die. You're going to die, that's the reality. I know these thoughts are dangerous. They lead to 'if i'm going to die anyway, why not now'. I'm not in that place. But I am wondering what the point of recovery is. Maybe this is how I'm destined to die. Maybe I'm not supposed to get over this. Why should I try so hard to get better when I'm going to die anyway? When I don't mind this. This life, these disordered habits...they make me who I am. They make me psychotic and sensitive and hateful. I don't connect well, but that's because I don't want to. I chose this. And is it really so bad? Plenty of people out there are on diets. Plenty of people out there are just like I am but aren't in treatment. I'm used to living like this. This is how I've grown up, basically...one-third of my life has been littered with these thoughts. Everyone's different, so maybe it's just how I am.

Deep, Deeper, STOP.

I'm going to attempt to make this more articulate than all of the other jumbled messes I've written. And I realize this is my fifth post in two days. I need to stop worrying about updating 'too often' people don't have to read this.

Contrary to my previous bout of bolded, red letters screaming that I wasn't going to use symptoms today...I did. A lot. My ED is screaming at me so loud. It's ringing in my ears and drowning everything else out. Never in my life have I been less present than I was today. I wish I could articulate what has been going on to make me start spiraling down and out of control. So here goes nothing.

I've always been bad at making friends. My personality isn't one that's super bubbly, carefree, and fun-loving. I'm sarcastic to the point of being rude, unaffectionate, and  maybe even stand-offish. I don't connect well with people. I never have...this isn't some curse brought on by my eating disorder...I always have been this way. Of course, the ED intensified it, but I'm convinced it made me more of myself. I've always felt that the way we are at our worst is how we really are...there are too many emotions running rampant to put on the 'half smile' and pull yourself together.  I had one 'best friend', C, since I was 2. I've talked about the shit that happened with her in multiple individual and group sessions, but basically we're just not close at all anymore. Also, my current best friend, O, I've known for 8 years. Clearly I have a little bit of an issue because my friends all seem to be from when we connected over playing American Girl Dolls. Yeah, I've had acquaintances in school that I can talk to, sit with, complain about teachers with...but it's extremely rare for me to have someone I'll be able to call up and say "I've had a shit day. Please listen and then fix it." I can't even connect with therapists. Sometimes, I think it's worse with them.  LW was the closest I got and then she got taken away thanks to ACE. She knew a lot about me, and I got to the point where I'd open up and fill the full hour. With RR, I never felt that close. I never said anything too deep and said "I don't know" like it was an article. I was very careful about that. Our sessions began to start 15 minutes late and end sometimes 30 minutes early. So, you do the math. That's 15 minutes and she got 200 dollars for hearing about my incessant purging and that I didn't know why I did it. I really liked her, don't get me wrong, but come to think of it...even though I started participating in groups towards the end of my almost 8 months at ACE, everything I'd say was on the surface. Some of it definitely was bullshit that I made up because no, R I did not express myself, and no, ASB, I do not want to tell the group that I my anxiety is at a 10 because I just saw my hideous reflection in the window behind you. But why? Why couldn't I be honest? People were saying shit like that all the time. Why was it okay for the girl across from me to say her anxiety was at a 9 because of negative body image, but not for me? There's no doubt I have a little social anxiety (okay, a lot), but I felt connected to the girls at ACE and would talk about more real stuff in between groups when a therapist wasn't present. It was in between groups that I admitted my aversion to shorts was because of scars on my legs. I never even told RR that I'd ever cut. Therapists intimidate me, but at the same time I know that being more honest in therapy will help. I doubt I'll ever get there with CM, just because of the conditions. I'm afraid that if I say too much, I'll seem tro sick and get kicked out of school. It's almost pointless to see her, but I'm trying to listen to RR...even though there's little reason to start now. It's not that I'm lying. I'm telling the truth. Just very little of it. I have my line that I absolutely refuse to cross.

I don't want people to think I'm weird. I know therapists have "heard it all", so I should just be wide open and let them fix me. But I protect what's inside more than anything. I'm doing this blog to protect it less. I tried it before, per suggestion of LW, who mentioned it to my dad (I was still 17 at the time, they could hear whatever the hell they wanted, and had sessions with her to talk about me) who went through my computer history and found it. They all read it behind my back. I felt like I was naked on a stage in front of a million people. I deleted the blog and yelled at LW. I think that's what made me closer to her. I know other people can see this. I know my dad could potentially come across it (let's hope he never does). I know my school has access to everything I do on here (let's hope there are too many kids looking at porn and illegally downloading music to be worried about my blog)...and I know some old ACE friends have the link. Does that make me guard it? Maybe. I won't go into anything too deep, I never even did in my journal in case it got lost and found... I guess I don't even let myself think about what's deep because I don't want to know either.

Not knowing myself makes it way too hard to find friends that I'll let know me. It makes it way too hard to find a guy that will accept me when I can't accept myself. I can't think of any reason anyone would find me attractive and let people who tell me I am know that they are, of course, mistaken...

You look pretty today!
Are you fucking kidding me? I look like hell. Get your eyes checked.

People don't like being told they're wrong. I know that, but I don't want them to say it again so I make sure they won't. I'm manipulative in that way. I make everyone's voice similar to my ED voice.

The current issue seems to be the fact that I have to make new 'friends'. I have to establish who I am to a whole new group of people. I was extremely excited about that before going here so I could be more of who I wanted to be and less of who I am. I'm being the same guarded person here, the same person I was where I hated everything. That's making me anxious. Trying to be different is making ED tell me that it worked so much better last time.

I need to shut it up on my own, put it in the little box. Maybe then, I'll get my homework done. (thank god for sparknotes)

So much for being articulate.