these people suck.

now they're saying residential.
my mom talked to the lady at the hospital who said that i seem to be anti-recovery, therefore a 'relaxed' treatment environment doesn't seem right for me at this point.

and i didn't want to hear that.

i want to flip the switch or go back in time and stop this.
i'm scaring the shit out of myself...i don't understand why i can't stop. because it is...just food. and it's such a simple concept, to eat. to eat and NOT purge.

i don't understand why i did this. if i could understand that...i feel like i'd be set in recovery.
but i don't think i had a reason.

ughhhh fuckkkkkkking shit.

make it stop.

i'm currently trying to think of a way to make all of this stop and go back a week to no one knowing about this that will make my life change.

the good news for my health is that i can't make it stop. i can't 'get out of it'. my mom knows. that's enough to ensure i'll be going somewhere for therapy. fuck my life.

i had another appointment this morning, and i cried. like an idiot. no, i didn't cry yesterday when she told me i should leave school. i didn't cry when she told me i had an appointment tomorrow for the hospital evaluation. i cried when she told me she wouldn't reschedule it to accommodate my work schedule. i told her i can't do 2:30 because i work at 3 and she goes...really? what's more important here?

and i get that. i really DO get that. but. at the same time....i literally started working there 3 weeks ago. and where the conversation ended up, she is already telling me to quit and i haven't even been evaluated yet.

this job was the first thing i've been excited about in a while. granted, most of the excitement came from the hefty discount they give us...but also because that was the plan. i planned to come to lake forest and get a job at j.crew. and for the first time in forever something actually worked out according to a plan i made for MYSELF. (besides anything that has to do with ed shit) and i did that. myself. i'm not a very mature 18 year old, i can tell you that much. my mom still calls and sets up my hair appointments. and as dumb as a part time retail job sounds...it meant a lot that i had that and now i'm losing it. and i really enjoyed it. and also, i don't know how to tell them that although i've worked a grand total of 7 times i have to stop now. because i'm not capable of taking care of myself. and i have to call and tell them i can't work tomorrow because of a 'medical emergency'

but seriously. how hard would it have been to make my appointment earlier in the day? or another day? it's been 3 months, so waiting 2 days isn't going to be as detrimental as everyone is making it out to be.

and if we're looking for irony in the situation, the whole reason i backed out of the iop program here in the first place was because i GOT that job. and people told me that it'd overload me. i've tried that before. it did overload me. and now i'm quitting IT for therapy. awesome.

i hate that i cried in front of her of all people. i never cried in front of lori. and i never cried at ace. and i was comfortable in those places. definitely not comfortable in her office. it's probably one of the most uncomfortable places i've been.

i know i'm being stupid. because the way it's looking i might be leaving school soon...so obviously i won't be able to work in lake forest....but while i'm here...i'd like to. and. yeah. i know that's stupid. and i know i'm being dramatic. because my measly hardly-even-part-time job at a clothing store will hardly mean anything in the grand scheme of things. and i know that i need to have this evaluation. and i know that crying in a therapist's office isn't that big of a deal... i don't know. i just wanted to be stronger.

anyway. i was supposed to call and confirm the appointment/give them insurance info but i started studying my ass off instead so i wouldn't have to think about any of this. and by the time i remembered i had to be responsible, my phone was dead. so i left a message. but at least i'll ace a test for a class i'm probably not going to get any credit for anyway. yay, priorities.

i want it to stop. i want it to stop ruining everything.

It's taking everything.

I hate the part of this that keeps me from focusing. I used to love reading. I loved losing myself in literature.I can't focus on it now. I can only focus on..."did I get everything up? Should I go back and try and get more up? If I drink tonight I need to have something in me so I won't make an ass out of myself (again) and puke everywhere"...

I hate that I can't get those thoughts in the box and lock it, close it, and throw it away. I can't get it out of my mind. (maybe I need to talk about it. Process it)

I skipped both my classes today.
I don't do stuff like that. I'm supposed to be the good student.



Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
I NEED TO HIT SOMETHING. I need to hurt. I don't need another scar. I don't. I won't do it. I'm
not leaving the lounge until this feeling passes.

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.