howdyyyyy from arizona!

do they say howdy here? seems like they would...since it's a desert. and there are cowboys in the desert. hmm. anywho.

residential is shaping up to be quite an...interesting experience.

the good news is that i haven't purged or binged or cut since i've been here. and. i don't know if that's an accomplishment...because i can't. well. i could. but...it doesn't seem like progress since if i left i'd go right back into it. i still think of eating boxes of chocolate poptarts and stealing my roommates ID to get milk to wash it down with, then purging in our room...trying to be quiet. and it seems like such a terrible chain of events now that i think back on it. but i still..yearn for it. and that kind of freaks/creeps me out. that's why i'm here though. and it's been less than a week. so it has to get fucking better. i'm banking on that.


i had to tell 'my story' last night. and...it kind of hit me, what the therapist was saying. i know that i have had a guard up my whole life, but it never seemed to be as big of a guard as i thought. and i'm starting to realize all the shit i have to work through...and she made it seem like it was a big deal, and that it mattered that i'd gone through it...that i wasn't just making it up. and i always have feared it...that i'm lying to myself and everyone and i could just stop at any point. but it's not like that. it's a real problem and i have real issues to work through. and they matter..it's not petty bullshit that a 13 year old came up with. well, not all of it.


the best thing in the world for me, though, was yesterday at the gym.
i have been going to the gym....obsessively at school. and, i have always gone at night after a bunch of purging, or in the morning after a bunch of purging. so, my heart freaks out and palpitates after less than a mile. the doctor said that i should run again and see how it is after proper nutrition.


i did last night and i ran a little bit over a mile. and it was freeing. and amazing. and it sounds stupid. because it's just a mile. but. yeah. it meant a lot to me.


i'm still struggling with connecting.
but according to the therapist from group last night...i should be struggling with connecting, and it's not surprising. but i need to work on it rather than isolate myself and do little dumb puzzles in my puzzle book from the fabulous minnesota airport i was in for five hours.


i don't know. it's the beginning.
so i guess this is to be continued.
this week has been up and down, and all over (so i should probably take those meds seriously...haha.)
so. maybe. it will....i don't know what. start working for me? yeah. it will.

Finally.

I guess it's about time I update with my actual final concrete plans. I've been waiting to have this for a while--certainty.

I'm leaving at 9:10 a.m. Monday morning for Mirasol in Arizona. Lay over in Minneapolis. Arrive in Arizona at 1:35 p.m. I'm extremely nervous, anxious, and scared.  I have been crying for the majority of the week. Especially when I got the e-mail of my flight itinerary from my dad.

I can't stop thinking about the fact that I'm actually leaving.

This is always what you hear about in health class in middle school.
They teach you about consequences of behavior they believe to be dangerous.

They say that a sip of alcohol will make you addicted and you'll end up in rehab.
A hit of marijuana, and you'll end up in rehab.
One cigarette, and you'll get lung cancer.
Sex out of marriage, and you'll get pregnant.
Eating disorder, and you end up in a residential treatment center.

I was always afraid that was where I'd be. I was always afraid I'd get 'thrown in' a residential center.

I'm less afraid of it in the sense that it's punishment.
It's fear of letting it go, it's nervous fear.

I've done plenty of stalking of the website.
Plenty of judging the therapists by where they got their undergrads and doctorates.
I have the weekly schedule memorized, and I've watched the virtual tour so many times I definitely already know my way around.

The uncertainty of the other girls is what is tripping me up the most.
I know it will be fine. Becuase they'll understand me and they have all been in my position of the first day there before.

I'm afraid of after. If I waste all of the money and effort that's getting and keeping me there.
But I won't know until I try.
I won't know until I try wholeheartedly.

I really really really AM ready to get better. I'm ready to let go of the bullshit.
But I'm afraid because it is something I'll always have in the back of my mind. It will never simply 'go away'...it doesn't work like that.

I'm sad I'm missing the holidays. But there will be more.

I'm trying to be positive, and it's coming through a lot more right now than it has been lately.

Sigh. See you all in 47 days.

<3

lkjaslkfj

this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.
this is going to be good for me.

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.

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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.