i can't do this.

I know that it's possible, apparently, to recover.
I just don't think I'm strong enough. I don't feel like I can get through this.
Pending insurance, I'm leaving for Arizona on Monday.

I love Thanksgiving. Well, I hate Thanksgiving. I love my Grandmother's house, and I love Texas. I love shopping for 12 hours straight on Black Friday...requiring multiple trips to the car because we buy so much shit we can't even hold it. My extended family is pretty fucking insane, but it's always entertaining.

I'll be in treatment.

I love Christmas. Yeah, I'm not going to lie, I still can't sleep on Christmas morning and make everyone wake up at 5:00 a.m. to open presents...yeah, I never grew out of that one. But it's not the presents that makes it Christmas. It's my dad glaring at me and Kelly and Michelle while we disrupt Christmas Eve mass, it's the crazy Christmas Eve traditions we have...watching Anchorman, the non-traditional meal we have: lasagna..because it was Mr. Bill's favorite. It's the matching pajamas Miss. Joan gets us and all of us cramming in the trunk of my dad's car to drive creepily through neighborhoods, looking at lights even though none of us have given a shit about it for 5 years, at least. It's the home movies we watch over hot chocolate, even though it's not even cold in Georgia yet.

I'll be in treatment.

There will be more Thanksgivings, there will be more Christmases...but that I'm missing THIS year seems unbearably difficult. I'm missing reuniting with the few people I like from high school, the ceremony where we receive our IB diplomas, and standing in endless mall lines doing last minute shopping with my mom.

I haven't seen my mom since October. We fight a lot and I bitch about her more than I bitch about anyone, but she's honestly my best friend. And I know they'll visit at least once while I'm in treatment, but...damn. I don't want to go by myself. I don't want to be an adult and do this.

I'm so damn tired of dealing with this.
I hate that I have been sitting here trying to convince myself to eat something for going on 3 hours.
I'm so fucking anxious I can't function.
I have a French test tomorrow......nothing is sticking.

Part of me is relieved to finally go somewhere that could help me be free of this.
Part of me is happy that I'll be away from the holidays and my family...it may be my favorite thing ever, but it does really trigger me. Now that I think about it, I went to ACE right after the holidays...
And yet another part of me is excited to be around people that actually get it.

I know that I need this. But I'm just scared. I'm scared to tell my friends I'm leaving. (Read: I'm scared to tell Trevor.) But I'm more afraid of telling the people I am not as close with that I'm leaving. Or...not of telling them...but of them noticing. The people in my classes, the people that always end up being at the same parties as me...and my extended family that has no idea about this. They think I'm smart and strong...so what will they think when they find out about this.

I've said it a million times before, but I'm just so fucking terrified of letting go of this and it doesn't make sense.

I hate changing my mind from being ready to fight it and get better to wanting nothing more but to go back in time and not tell anyone I started struggling.

Maybe insurance will fuck up and I won't go.
I can't decide what emotion that would make me feel.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
If only I wasn't in the library right now.



Bright side = I'm not missing Harry Potter 

priorities.

if i miss the harry potter premiere for treatment i'm going to kill someone.

hi.

i have an eating disorder.

What's holding me back?

Myself. I'm the only thing that's holding me back.
I could have any resources I want, they're all open to me. I just have to choose them.
I have the terrible ambivalence struggle where I want to want to be perfectly fine and to work towards recovery...but I'm just...meh. My heart's just not in it.

I know the medical risks, people are trying to scare me into getting better by telling me at any given moment my heart could explode, but somehow I don't care.

There is a part of me that wants it, so don't get me wrong. A part of me wants this more than anything. Part of me is so fucking tired of living like this and of being controlled by this fucking beast. But the other part is just...afraid? Maybe? To let it go? I've let it define me for so long that I don't feel like I have an identity without it.

I mean, I'm sure there's a person behind my eating disorder...I'm just afraid of who that person is. I clearly hated that person at age 12-13, and that's why I wanted to change in the first place.

I feel like it tames me, similar to the way getting drunk or high has a calming effect.
Eating makes me a crazy bitch, but purging calms me down because it gets it out. It's the release of the tension of a bomb in my stomach.

aklsfjlkasjfkljasfjaieosjflkajsdfljaslkfakjsfklajfs

I really really hate myself for not wanting it. I hate disappointing people and seeing them look at me like "that" when I tell them that, no. I don't want to get better. I want to get thin.

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.)

I'm not quite sure this has a point.

All I really want to do is lay in my bed and watch Gossip Girl.

1. It's clearly quality trash television.
2. I'm running out of outfit inspiration
3. Chuck Bass is so fucking hot it should be illegal.
4. There's too much on my mind to do anything other than mindlessly indulge in the drama of the Upper East Side.

There are more options being formed which are, in turn, stressing me out to no end.
Final answer now pushed back to...Tuesday. I swear to god, I'm going to fucking graduate before anyone decides what to do with me. I'm not even going into the new things that I'm being told because it involves the formation of many new possibilities, all of which I hate and frankly, it's useless for me to pick apart each one of them...all of them will have pros and cons and all of them will get me in a better place than I am right now. And that place=HELL.
And my lovely brother is causing all kinds of shenanigans, making me feel bad/guilty for not being able to be the good kid anymore that my parents can fall back on. Now they've raised two screw-ups and I could go on for pages about that whole situation and section of my issue.

Sigh. I just want to be here through the week so I don't miss the Harry Potter premiere.

Now, back to Gossip Girl. It's very intense stuff. Dan just LIED to Serena about a girl being over and now she's not asking him to the masked ball and he wants to go and it's awwwwwwkwarrrrrddddd.

Nate is also looking extremely attractive and I wish I had Blair Waldorf's wardrobe. (and bod. shhhh.)

oh, and ps: it's midnight on a friday and i'm sober. first? probably. go me. and insurance sucks. and so do males. and so do eating disorders. aaaaaaandddd...... it smells kind of weird in here. i need to find febreze.

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.