the facade.

Is it really a facade, or am I doing the half smile? Or maybe I'm just having insane mood swings.

It's hard for me to tell what emotion I'm feeling. It's weird. Because I know what they feel like...but I'm so numbed out, I'm not feeling anything. But at the same time, I can completely sink into my own world and feel so overwhelmed I'm paralyzed, or pretend like I'm the happiest damn person on the planet and ride on carts through Target. I'm not trying to say that my eating disorder makes it impossible for me to have a good time....I can have a good time, the only reason I'm questioning if it's a show or not is that as soon as the people I'm having 'such a good time' with leave, I'm back into the paralyzed, overwhelmed state where all I can do is mindlessly look at facebook or pick my split ends. 

I have good friends here though. I've known them for such little time, but I'm kept down because of them. I'm kept sane. I'm still using symptoms in a pretty out of control way, but even though no one (except Trevor) knows, I'm more at ease around them and...I don't know. It's nice to have people sometimes. I can't believe I'm saying that. Well, not to talk to about shit. But to have in case I think I'm going to explode. Or to distract me when they don't even know that's what they're doing. 

Because today was pretty awful. My weight is up. I'm trying to hear Rachel's words and remember that my fattened up state that I left ACE in was healthy in her opinion. In my opinion, it was extremely overweight. I'm fluctuating in that range and going up and down half a pound doesn't mean shit because it has more to do with whether or not I've taken a shit or my hydration level or what not...but a half pound is all it takes to make me spiral down. Which hints that I shouldn't weigh myself if I can't handle it, but I was at the gym and the scale wanted me to step on. On the bright side, I resisted the urge to buy a scale to have in my room at Target. Partially thanks to Lucy who continued to insist that it was a bad idea (and she doesn't even know)...and Trevor who looked at me all concerned. 

Part of me wishes I just got it anyway so I could get a more accurate weight in the morning instead of while I'm working out. 

I don't know. I really really really just have no fucking idea. I feel like I'm on a completely different planet. 

Babble.

I'm having an insanely hard time writing out what I'm feeling. Or saying it. Or letting myself feel it. I told T way too much and I want to push away but he keeps pulling back and I think I like that he's doing that. I think I like the support, which scares the shit out of me.

I lost weight. It's not an unhealthy amount but I did it unhealthily. I lost weight because I'm hardly eating. It's so easy. I'm only afraid that this happened because of how it made me feel. I used my friend's scale. I don't have one. I want one, I went to Walgreens to buy one but they don't have them. I planned a trip to Target to get one in my head. I'm trying to fight myself on it because I'll become a slave to the number again. Yeah, it's the only thing on my mind. Yeah, it's consuming me and I'm calculating the time it'll take to reach my goal. And I'm pissed off at the side of me that's saying it's unhealthy that I lost weight from new (expensive) symptoms. I don't have the fucking money to spend on helping my eating disorder. I'm in college, I can hardly pay for toothpaste. I know that, but I tell myself once I get my job a certain amount can go towards this. NO. I will not hit rock bottom again.

I don't want to go down further, but I don't want to go up either. I like where I am. It's the perfect amount of symptoms to help me cope, but it's not enough to force me into isolation and hatred of anyone who speaks to me.

I absolutely can not wait to go home. I'm so excited to see K even though I had a huge rant about how much she'd hurt me. And I'll hardly see her, I know...because she's going to be pretty busy getting married. But I got new shoes and a new dress and I'm conceited enough to be solely excited to wear them. (I just wish my hand didn't scar like it did. It's so ugly. Lesson learned, though. again.)

I wish I could articulate this better. I don't know. I just...don't.