Happy in hell

Today I am happy for all the wrong reasons.  I woke up incredibly depressed and wishing I hadn't woken up at all.  While I was getting dressed I noticed that my waist seemed smaller.  I was really excited, but also prepared for a letdown when I measured my waist.  23.5 inches.  The last time I measured (which was ages ago) it was around 27 inches.  I get excited about being skinny the way a little kid gets excited for Christmas, so I was elated all morning. 

I had therapy this morning, which brought me down a bit.  I was very self-critical in my ballet class today, which didn't make me feel much better.  After ballet (jumping around for an hour and a half) I still felt restless.  I was riding my bike from the college to my house, so I decided to just keep biking.  And keep biking, and keep biking, and keep biking... I've ridden my bike 18-ish miles today.  I'm proud of myself.  I was on a bike trail that goes around a lake.  After the first lap, I wanted to quit and go home.  I even started to follow the path home, but I turned around and kept going.  I made myself keep going until I had completed 5 laps around the lake. 

When I got home I did sixty crunches, laying on the floor under the magazine pictures of teeny tiny models I hung on my bedroom wall along with a couple motivating Nike ads.  I had some apple juice, because I hadn't eaten since breakfast and figured I could use a small blood-sugar boost.  I immediately regretted it.  120 calories of apple juice when I could have just had water.  What a waste!  After that I guzzled water.  I weighed myself.  I was 121.5 lbs.  Then I realized that I'd had quite a bit of water and approximately 8 oz of apple juice.  I filled my bottle to how much I'd had to drink and weighed it.  It was half a pound, and I reckoned the apple juice was probably a quarter of a pound.  Subtracting this three-quarters of a pound puts me at 119.25 pounds.  Woot!!!!!  I'm so excited!  I've lost 4.25 pounds since early September.  Crazy! 

I know this is really bad for me.  I know that I'm approaching an unhealthy weight.  I should weigh close to 130 pounds, according to BMI charts, but screw that.  I'm having fun.  Well, sort of... seeing the numbers go down is fun, but the actual process is hell.  If I don't eat I walk through the day in a paranoid haze.  If I do eat I hate myself for it, no matter how much or how little I ate.  I'm trying to find some semblence of moderation. 

My grandma is making 4-cheese pizza for dinner.  I'm nervous.  I feel like if I eat it it will completely wipe out all the hard work I did on my bike ride.  I don't know how many calories I burned on the ride, nor have I looked at how many calories are in the pizza yet.  I'm going to, though.  I can probably only have one or two slices.  I probably have to have at least two pieces or my grandma will worry, and I don't want her to be suspicious.  Whenever we had pizza in the summer, I would eat nearly half of it.  Disgusting.  I need more self-control. 

I shouldn't be losing weight.  This is really bad.  But I love losing weight! I'm so torn.  I know if I work hard to recover I can be happy, but at the same time if I work hard at weightloss, I can be thin.  Both are appealling, but being thinner usually wins.  I don't know what to do!!!!

Help! :(

Dr. Oz 08/07/2012 "Feederism"

Written Tuesday, August 7th, 2012

I. HATE. Doctor Oz.  Every time I see his show it terrorizes me.  His focus is on different ways to lose weight.  It's so triggering! I want to take notes, try out his methods.  I am so tempted to fall back into my disordered eating habits and start losing weight again.  I hate Doctor Oz and I need to stop watching it.

Today's show is truly horrifying to me. The guests on the show are "feederists," women who want more than anything to be fat.  They want to be the fattest women in the world.  They get off on it, they think their enormous bodies are beautiful. Don't get me wrong - I'm not trying to be judgemental or critical of them. Kudos to them for their self-confidence. The thing is, they don't think their bodies or eating habits are unhealthy.

That's their choice, that is what this episode of Dr. Oz is focusing on; however, from an eating disordered point of view these women are monsters.  They are my worst nightmare.  Seeing them and their pride for being large turns me off to food and eating. I feel threatened.  I feel enormous.  I want to starve.

I don't want to come off as being bitchy.  Recognizing that these women are my worst fears personified makes me feel so mean.  I am scared and confused by these women.

I want to over compensate for the extra weight I carry.  I am 5'7" and weight 127 pounds.  I have gained four pounds in the past month.  I am admittedly the exact weight I should be, maybe even a little under.  A counselor at church camp last week even told me she though I look like I am under 120 pounds (I wish!). I just don't always see that I am a good size.  I am scared of my body.  Sometimes I don't know how to feed myself.

How do y'all eat like it's no big deal?  Aren't you terrified?  I am hyper aware of what I eat and what the consequences of my eating may be.  I am terrified of gaining weight.

This is all I can say on this topic for now, or I will end up talking in circles. 

Nostalgia Bites

She was my best friend for seven years.  She controlled me, said awful things to me, beat me up occasionally, made me do thinks I hated myself for afterwards, told my other friends not to talk to me, and made me feel stupid and unworthy of anyone’s friendship.  And that was just elementary and high school!

When we got older you started hanging out with boys who called me fat when I was around.  You told me the homemade clothes I designed were ugly and made me look poor.  You never missed an opportunity to tell me I’m a whore.  You let your dog bite me without disciplining him and told me to suck it up and get used to it. 

When I stopped eating, you encouraged me.  You took me out for long bike rides and runs and yelled at me, “Keep up!  Do you want to lose weight or not?”  When I cut myself, you told me I was doing it wrong and showed me how to properly kill myself. 

Sometimes you were nice to me and I felt like our friendship was genuine.  In retrospect, however, it was never enough to make up for how poorly you treated me.  I haven’t spoken to you in two years nor have you spoken to me.

We just “drifted apart,” as you say, but I also know that you think homosexuality is sick and wrong.  “It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve,” you told me when I came out to you. 

When I look at you I realize I don’t even know you anymore.  I was always your loyal friend because you made me think no one else would ever be my friend.  You caused me so much anger and hurt.  So why the hell do I miss you so much sometimes?

I was really stupid to hang out with you for as long as I did.  What a waste of seven years.  Now you’re bleach-blonde, thinner than I am, you have a mustang and a steady boyfriend.  I’m not envious of you though.  I’m just pissed that my friend stopped using me as a muse for her artistic photography and switched to you.  In pictures of me I was art.  In pictures of you, your eyes are dead and you look like a posed doll.  Now I get to call you a whore, even though I’ll never say it out loud. 

Shower Prayers

Hello, hello everyone!  I'm back!  I am now writing from my new city.  That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have moved out of my hometown and my personal hell and am now living in a city 30 minutes from where I grew up.  I will be living in my gramma's attic for the next couple years while I study for my associate's degree in liberal arts.  I graduated on June 3rd, moved on the 6th, and I'm loving it. 

Last weekend I went to the United Church of Christ annual meeting. It was a great experience!  A lot of people from my church told me, It's all long meetings... you're going to get so bored...it's just church politics... On the contrary - I learned a lot and made some great friends.  I will, however, admit that my ass did get quite sore sitting through those lengthy meetings.  I got to learn more about the UCC, participate in a flash mob, and attend some great workshops.  I helped out with communion during sunday worship. 

During worship, a video of youth interviews was shown.  The footage was taken at our last weekend camp and each of the youth had been asked to talk about their faith journey and what the church meant to them.  My interview was at the end of the video.  I talked for the longest.  It was kind of embarassing to watch... I spoke about my eating disorder, my dying catholic faith, and how the United Church of Christ fostered new spiritual growth after my struggles with mental illness, and coming out.  After the service, several people approached me to thank for openly sharing the story of my faith journey.  I got a lot of hugs... and we all know, I love hugs.  It was a cool experience.  :)

I had a hard time eating at the conference.  Since I moved out of my parents' house, I've been struggling more with my eating disorder.  I have yet to get used to my new environment and routine.  I ate only one meal over the entire weekend at the UCC conference.  I talked to my youth pastor about it, and that helped.  She is my rock.  While we were in taize at the conference, I started to cry because the prayers we were singing touched me so deeply.  They were prayers for help, prayers for comfort, and that is just what I need.  I felt so connected to God and so in need of God's love in that moment... I had hoped that no one would see me cry, and I managed to be dry-eyed by the time taize was over and the lights came back on (we'd been meditating in candle light).  I had been seen though, and I was faced with a crowd of people wondering if I was okay and trying to console me.  I was mortified and furious with myself.

I booked it out of there... some of the youth were going for a walk, and I went with them.  I was in a foul, self-hating mood.  I didn't really want to go for a walk, but I also didn't want to turn down the opportunity to hang out with my church friends.  I walked with them for a while and then headed back to my dorm.  I went to my room, got ready for bed, and turned off the lights... I had a taize candle & candle holder in my room that a pastor had given me after my emotional episode.  I didn't want the damn candle, it was too much of a reminder of the humiliating incident during taize.  I took the candle out of my bag and I was going to get rid of it, but I discovered a chip in the glass candle holder.  There was a sliver of broken glass in the bottof of the candle holder.  I took it out and made a half-hearted attempt at self harm, but it didn't really work.  I wasn't trying hard enough; I didn't really want to cut.  I threw the broken piece of glass across the room as hard as I could and listened to it bounce off the opposite wall in the dark. 

I'm having a hard time adjusting to the new city and whatnot, but it's not all bad.  I have hard times still, and I'm really lonely.  I'm having fun though... I'm able to spend more time with friends because I'm close to them.  I can ride my bike all over town and I have access to the library, my church, GLYS, and various theaters.  My faith means everything to me right now.  I'm praying a lot for help with my mental illness and giving thanks for my new life. 

This morning while I was in the shower, I felt very relaxed.  I was very aware of how the water felt running over my skin, and the steam caressing my face. I lifted my hands a little, palms open, and said a prayer for help, for healing, and a prayer of thanks for my move and my good friends.  A warm, relaxing shower is a great place for morning prayer and meditation.  It's a bit like baptism, I suppose.  It's purifying. 

I'm going out to see Dark Shadows this afternoon with a friend, and this evening I'm going to an LGBT youth group meeting and then to a presentation at my church... some missionaries who have just returned from a year in Zimbabwe are going to talk to the congregation about their missionary work and experiences. 

I just rubbed my eye and probably totally fucked up my eyeliner... great. 

Dear readers, I have a favor to ask.  A friend of mine has recently come out but he is unsure about his sexuality.  Pray for him, send him vibes, keep him in your thoughts - whatever it is you do.  He's a great friend and I wish nothing but the very best for him. 

Create a beautiful day, guys...
xxx

A Sad Playlist for a Sad Day

Fiona Apple -Limp
Marina and the Diamonds -Teen Idle
Sia -I'm In Here
Elliot Smith -Between the Bars
Skylar Grey -Invisible

I would love for someone to grab my shoulders, shake me and say "I can tell you've lost weight. You look sick. What have you eaten today?" so I can have the satisfaction of saying "Absolutely nothing."

I don't think anyone has noticed, though.  And if they have, they don't care enough to do anything about it.

Role Models

I have been reading Crystal Renn's book, Hungry and I am in love with it.  Aside from my unhealthy penchant for books about eating disorders, I'm beginning to enjoy the end of the book in which she gets better.  I haven't finished it yet, but Renn makes a multitude of excellent points about the stigma surrounding the modelling industry, the facts and myths of eating disorders, and ties it all together with her clever sense of humor and heart wrenching stories of her personal experiences with the disease.

I have also read Unbearable Lightness by Portia De Rossi and Wasted by Marya Hornbacher.  Reading Unbearable Lightness made me feel level with Portia.  Her descriptions of the painfully embarrassing moments that take place in everyday life make her seem friendly and real, and I felt a connection with her because of her open & honest writing about her eating disorder. 

Marya's book is terrifying, yet fascinating.  The thrilling plot aside, she is a brilliant writer!  You can tell by her style of writing and beautiful language that she is wildly intelligent, but she also uses a fluid, tumbling stream of manic thoughts going through her head during her narrative. 
I love books, don't you? :)

Next on the reading list... Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson, The Best Little Girl in the World by Steven Levenkron, Wasted by Marya Hornbacher, and Unbearable Lightness by Portia de Rossi. I've read them all before, but they're so good!  I'm on an anorexia kick, I guess.

My Favorite Quotes:

"Dead girl walking,” the boys say in the halls.
“Tell us your secrets,” the girls whisper, one toilet to another.
I am that girl.
I am the space between my thighs, daylight shining through.
I am the bones they want, wired on a porcelain frame.
-Wintergirls, Laurie Halse Anderson

“I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that you cannot stand who you are, and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. This is, I believe, different from the suicidal wish of those who are in so much pain that death feels like relief, different from the suicide I would later attempt, trying to escape that pain. This is a wish to murder yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild. This is a belief that you deserve slow torture, violent death.”
-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher

Lora and I started fighting over nothing.  Well, not really over nothing.  I was taking my shirt off, my back to her. 
“Max, let me see your back.”  Her voice was sharp.  I had stopped changing in front of her.  I had slipped.  “What?  No.”  I pulled my pajama tops on and went into the bathroom, locking the door. 
“Max!”  She banged on the door.  “What the fuck is up with your back?” 
“What are you talking about?” My hands ran their panicked course over the bones of my back, my collarbones, my wrists, my knees.
“Max, you aren’t eating!  Come out here!”  I came out and stood in front of the mirror, brushing my hair.  It fell to the floor in thin dark clouds.  She stood at her desk, banging things. 
“You know, Max, this is, like, bullshit.”  I didn’t say anything.  I looked at myself sideways in the mirror.  I was thinner, but not thin enough yet. 
“I mean, like, you could talk to someone about this, or something.”  I got into bed and vigorously cracked open a book. 
“MAX,” she screamed.  I looked up, waiting. 
“Fuck you,” she said.  “I mean, about this.  Just fuck you.”  She slammed out of the room. 

-Wasted, Marya Hornbacher

"Fat and Skinny had a race
All around the pillow-case
Fat fell down and broke her face
Skinny said, ha-ha, I won the race!"
-The Best Little Girl in the World, Steven Levenkron

"It's 4:15am.  It's time for my morning workout.  I have exactly one hour to run and do sit-ups and leg lifts before I get in the car to drive forty-five minutes to the set for my 6:00am makeup call...As I slip out of bed and do deep lunges across the floor to the bathroom, I promise myself to cut my calorie intake in half to 150 for the day and take twenty laxatives...But i's not the weight gain from the six ounces of yogurt that worries me.  It'sthe loss of self-control."

-Unbearable Lightness, Portia de Rossi

I NEED BRITNEY BACK, DAMMIT!

Sapphire - Therapist = very bad

*Flips the bird*

Although this is probably not the case, it begins to feel a bit more personal when she says she doesn't have time for one-on-one, and yet there is T.  Just her and T. Havin' a little one-on-one time. Yesterday she said she would come get me in half an hour so we could talk, but she never showed up, and then made out like I should have known all along she wouldn't come.  Well actually, miss, I usually expect people to show up when they say they will unless they tell me ahead of time that they are unable to come. 

I'm sitting around crying all day because I'm facing more anxiety, depression, anger, and hopelessness than I can deal with alone, but se tells me she has no time for me.  Why not? She clearly has time for the others.  That's what makes it feel like she's avoiding me or personally attacking me, because she's with other people in her office all the time but she dissmisses me.

So I'll just continue to sit here and continue to cry.  Their plans for college are more important than my plans for . . . I shouldn't finish that sentence in case someone sticks me in the loony bit again.  Use your imagination.

I am completely irrational.  I'm a stupid fucking loser.

If you don't want to listen to me bitching about how much my life sucks then don't look at my blog and go print some coloring pages or something. I don't have anything nice to say.

I can't do a single goddamn thing right. My hands are shaking so my hand writing is terrible.  My sweater is linty and I'm too fat for these pants.  I need to buy a lot of new pants in size fat.  I didn't put on any makeup this morning so I look like hell. 

Today is solo / ensemble contest for band and choir.  I just want to look nice, but that is clearly impossible for me.  I don't have anything nice to wear except for these black dress pants and the same fucking sweater that I wear to every band event.  Everyone else will look better than me.  I don't even want to go to contest!  I have put in three years of solos and duets, isn't that enough?  I'm only going because our band director is making me.  I have to be part of a clarinet choir and play a stupid Pavanne that no one in the ensemble likes.   

The school counselor is supposed to meet me in the library.  She was supposed to meet me here 10 minutes ago.  I don't like being stuck in my own head.  It's a shitty place to be. 

This week is the last time I will see my current therapist.  She's quitting her job.  It's bullshit & it's not fair.  I really, really like her.  I don't want to see anybody else.  I'm sorry that I'm such a selfish brat but I wish she weren't quitting her job.  I need someone I like and trust, and I've never had that before.  This therapist is the first good therapist I've ever had. 

Today is not a good day.  I will not be eating anything today.  I'm a disappointment.

The sea is a good place to think of the future.

 

I grabbed hold of her wrist and my hand closed from tip to tip
I said “you’ve taken the diet too far, you have got to let it slip”
But she’s not eating again, she’s not eating again, she’s not eating again, she’s not eating again.
I ask her to speak French and then I need her to translate, I get the feeling she makes the meaning more significant.
She was always far too pretty for me to believe in a single word she said, believe a word she said.
At fourteen her mother died in a routine operation, from allergic reaction to a general anesthetic. She spent the rest of her teens experimenting with prescriptions, in a futile attempt to know more than the doctors.
She said one day to leave her, sand up to her shoulders waiting for the tide
to drag her to the ocean, to another sea’s shore.
This thing hurts like hell,
but what did you expect?

And all you can hear is the sound of your own heart
And all you can feel is your lungs flood and the blood course
But oh I can see five hundred years dead set ahead of me
Five hundred behind,
A thousand years in perfect symmetry

Best known left wrist right finger, through all the Southern States, on every video games machine they call her triple A.
There were racists on the radio trying to give up smoking, the chat show host, he joked “you have to wait for the government program”.
You talk about your politics, and I wonder if you could be one of them, but you could never kiss a Tory boy without wanting to cut off your tongue again.
A good place to look to the future is when you are sat at the sea, with the salt up to your ankles and a view of the end of the pier, you may look down at your model’s feet and wish that you’d just float away, and the weather here is overcast and the sea is the same shade of grey, so the landscape before you looks just like the edge of the world, but to the left side and the right side, either way is a crazy golf course.
The sea is a good place to think of the future.

And all you can hear is the sound of your own heart
And all you can feel is your lungs flood and the blood course
But oh I can see five hundred years dead set ahead of me
Five hundred behind,
A thousand years in perfect symmetry
A thousand years no getting rid of me
A thousand years in perfect symmetry.

-Los Campesinos

Will someone please come rescue me?

I'm so tired... It's so dark and I can't find

 the way out.  I'm seriously going to fall asleep in a minute here.  It won't be the first time I've cried myself to sleep, or the first time I've slept in school, but it will be the first time I've cried myself to sleep in school.

That's almost humorous... maybe there's hope for me yet.

Probably not.
 

I honest-to-God want to eat, but something's got a hodl of my mind and is making it very difficult.  My whole body aches from not being fed.
 

That's pathetic though -- I'm not even good at being anorexic.  I think I'm something special because Ive cut my intake down to one meal and one snack everyday.  The girls who are really sick are much better at this than I am.

I'm so fucking miserable. 

and i miss jessa. but don't tell.  i'm supposed to be strong.

Nothing I do works.

I'm getting absolutely nothing done in my classes.  I'm just there because I have to be.  I'm spending my time looking at magazines, drawing and reading.  It's unfortunate because I'm reading about girls with anorexia.  The magazines I'm looking at make me cry - they're dance magazines and I want to be a ballet dancer so bad, but that's just another lost dream.  I'm trying to draw passionate images of dancers, but I can't draw right today.  I'm too upset to function, really.  I really shouldn't even be in school, probably, but I will not wimp out again.  I stayed home from school for a couple days last month because I was having a melt down, but this time I will tough it out.  I need to at least try to work.  When I'm in college, I won't be allowed to take mental health days.  When I'm in college I'm going to have to actually work, and work really hard.  I have goals.  If I can't reach them, then what's the point of living? 

If someone else had to feel the way I do right now for just a minute or two, they would probably hit the floor.  I've built up a lot of mental muscle and scar tissue, I reckon, so I can at least fake my way through the day.  I would love for someone to know what exactly is happening inside me right now, and say wow, that's awful... Just to have someone understand would make me feel a tiny bit better. 
I am SO PISSED OFF that none of my drawings are turning out well.  Drawing is a great release for me when I'm this upset, but only if I draw well. The only trouble is that I never draw well when I'm upset.  This causes me to get progressively angrier and more frustrated as well as the original underlying depression and insecurities. 

I need someone to yell at.  I'm going to turn into a bitch if I don't get help soon. 

Today is a terrible day.

I'm supposed to be taking notes right now, but I just don't feel like it.  I don't care about much of anything at present.  I would give anything to be in the sanctuary at Peace church right now.  I'm tired and sad and run-down.

I miss my girlfriend.  Oh sorry, I mean ex-girlfriend.

I feel empty, void.  There's a blackness in my chest that won't go away. My insatiable need for affection is eating away at me.  Having such a tremendous need makes me feel pathetic and very irritated with myself.  I'm so frustrated with this neediness, wanting, and sickness. 

I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself! I don't want to, but that's how I feel right now.  I have lots of good reasons for this, too, so it's hard to convince myself that it's alright, I'm alright.  I am behind in three of my six classes, and owe make-up work in two more classes.  I'm trying to ask my supports for help, but I'm talkng in circles.  It's damn near impossible for anyone to help me in the state I'm in. 

I'm really hungry.  I've been indulging in "target behaviors," whatever the hell that means...  I've been reading memoirs about anoretics, and all I've eaten today is 4 oz of fat-free yogurt.  I only ate that to appease someone who's concerned about me.  I feel really bad for making people worry about me.  I'm such a stupid, worthless piece of sh*t. 

I wish Sarah would stop staring at me.  To the students sitting around me while I'm blogging in class: Yeah, I get it. We have a ten page paper to work on, and I'm already behind schedule.  I honestly don't care, though, so leave me alone and quit looking at me like I'm a hopeless bum.  I am a hopeless bum, but it's really none of your business.

The school counselor is unavailable for the next two weeks, and I only get to go to therapy once a week.  I'm screwed. I need someone to talk to.  I need someone to help me eat.  I need a hug. 

I wonder if we have play practice tonight. I can't remember. Rachel...?

I need some serious inspiration and motivation here.  I'm going nowhere fast. 

No words.

I'm having a rough day.  I feel empty.  Something is lacking.  As usual, I have no ideas, no reasons for why I feel this way.  When I have a bad day like this and there is no reason for how I feel, it seems like some part of me that I'm unaware of is in control. 

I have no words for this.  I can't even think straight.  It takes a great deal of effort just to put together a coherent sentence. 

Lazy Thursday

Yesterday I had a very productive session with my therapist.  She's very nice, hard-working, and is just the right fit for me to work with.  I like her a lot and trust her - two things that have never occurred for me.  I've always loathed my therapists and doubted their methods.  My therapist is brilliant and I'm so lucky to have found her.  I'm sure some of you can understand the vital importance of finding a good therapist. 

She's quitting her job.

She dropped this bit of news on me like a ton of bricks at the end of our session yesterday.  She was very apologetic and promised me it had nothing to do with me.  She said that had she known when we started working together that she was going to take a break from counseling that she never would have begun working with me.  I really, really don't want her to go.  I only get two more sessions with her. 

On a lighter note, my school's wind ensemble is playing themes from modern Broadway shows for this year's Pops Concert.  One of the pieces we're playing is a compilation of songs from Phantom of the Opera.  My favorite actress, Amy Walker wrote a parody of the song "All I Ask of You."  Knowing the lyrics to the parody makes me giggle every time we rehearse this number. 

Amy is a brilliant actor, singer, and dancer, and you may know her from her 21 Accents video she put on YouTube.  This video went viral and jump started her acting career.  She is the head of the ConnectedFilm Project and the Soul Fire Project.  I was fortunate enough to interact with her during one of her Amy Walker LIVE shows and spoke to her about the pressure for the perfect body in the acting world, and discussed acting schools and art schools with her.  She had a quiz on her website several months ago, and the first person with the most correct answers would receive a personal note from Amy.  I won, and got a postcard from her!  I admire her so much and envy her talent. 

The rest of the senior class is in Florida right now, taking their senior trip to Disney World or Disney Land, whatever it is.  I chose not to go because I'm not close with anyone in my class except for my best friend Stephinee, and Disney World has never had any appeal to me.  I would rather go to Harry Potter Land, or Europe, or Australia.  My sisters both decided to forgo the senior trip for Europe instead.  If I had the money I would definitely be in Australia right now. 

Due to the severely lowered class numbers with the senior class gone, there's nothing to do in our classes.  It's fabulous!  I get to spend all day reading, getting ahead on my homework, listening to my iPod... just hanging out in general.  I'm in my civics class and we're watching Avatar. 

Well, that's all folks.  Have a nice afternoon. =)

Bonnie

When I was still a part of the Catholic church I had a fabulous confirmation teacher.  Due to my pent up, secret anger with God and disbelief that God existed I clammed up and didn't allow her to teach me much about my faith.  Outside of the church, however, she was a huge inspiration to me.  She, like me, had also struggled with an eating disorder in her past, and was familiar with the misery of mental illness. I used to go for long walks on summer evenings and would "coincidentally" end up at her house.  She could usually be found out in her front garden with her dog and cat enjoying the weather.  We stood outside in front of her house and had long conversations about mental illness, faith, our interests, and homophobia in the church.  She helped me through hard times.  She was always there to give me a hug when I needed it, she understood my pain but she also understood my creativity and encouraged me to put it to use when I needed emotional release. 

Unfortunately, her mental illness came back to plague her.  For nearly a year now, I have not spoken to her or heard from her.  I don't even know if she ever leaves her house anymore.  When I've tried to contact her, she says she has too many mental & physical health issues to reach out to anyone and that she is focusing all her energy on getting well and taking care of her family.  I understand and respect her decision to pull away from her social life to focus on what's really important to her, but at the same time I can't deny the fact that I miss her so much.  My heart is breaking for her because she means the world to me and I can't stand to imagine how much pain she is in. 

I saw her tonight - just a glimpse when I walked past her house with my aunt's dog.  Her hair is longer.  I can't tell if she's thinner or not.  She turned around for a moment before walking behind her house and I don't know if she saw me or recognized me.  I really wanted to yell her name, make her see me, and insist on giving her a hug; a healing embrace.  I have to respect her needs, though. 

I might write a letter, just to let her know what's going on in my world and remind her how much she means to me, and let her know I'm thinking of her and praying for her.  There's so much I want to tell her.  I want to share the news of my new found love with her, let her see my blue hair as well as show her photos of when my hair was purple.  I want to let her know I'm here for her, I will listen, and that she is worth the world to me.  It's very hard to let go and wait for her to come to me. 

I plan on inviting her to my graduation party.  I really hope she comes.

Spoiler Alert: Hunger Games

My mental health is taking a turn for the worst.  I went to church yesterday, and normally I am elated to be there.  I love going to church; it's my favorite place to be.  I wasn't as excited as usual, though.  Just relieved.  I felt tired.  During service I cried.  Kayla put her arm around me and I cried harder.  What is it about affection & touch that makes my heart and spine feel electrocuted?  When people show concern or care for me I feel like I'm having a little 2-second heart attack. 
 

I saw my girlfriend last night.  She came with me to youth group and we went out to eat.  I was struggling to eat, which I know was hard for her to witness.  She thinks I purged, too, but I didn't.  I want her to believe me and trust me when I tell her I'm trying my hardest to get better for her. If it weren't for her I wouldn't be putting nearly so much effort into recovery. It's exhausting. 

I got to go see the Hunger Games yesterday.  It was really good!  There were a lot of details that didn't match up with the book, but other than that it was a fabulous movie.  It was terrifying yet moving to see all those kids simultaneously killing each other and banding together to protect each other.  My favorite scene was when Katniss laid Rue to rest with a bouquet of Queen Anne's Lace in her hands and blue & purple Lupins framing her face.  Katniss's compassion for the little girl and her three-finger salute to District 11brought me to tears.  I wish Rue could have made it out alive with Peeta and Katniss.  :(

Sia - I'm In Here

Emmaus at Peace

Here is a drawing of me holding a 6-week old baby at church.  He's so precious and warm and tiny.  Last Sunday I got to hold him for half an hour while he slept, and it was wonderful.  I love the little squawks and baby grunts he makes in his sleep.  :)  It's so calming to have a tiny body curled up and sleeping on your chest.  I sang the lullaby my mom made up for me to him. Usually I can't remember it except for a vague semblance of the tune, but when I sang to baby Emmaus I magically remembered all the words. 

Jesus bless you, Emmaus
While you're fast asleep
You'll awake to loving smiles
Sunshine rays & cloudy days
And I pray your whole life through
Angels will watch over you
Loving you the way I do,
My Emmaus sleep well

...and he cooed and gurgled at me in his sleep.  I thought I'd share that little bit of bliss with you.

In other news, my girlfriend and I are taking a "break" now.  I posted about this yesterday as well, but I had not yet talked to her about it.  If you listen to the song "Call it off" by Tegan & Sara, you will understand my current situation.  Tegan & Sara sum it up beautifully. 

 I hope and pray that I can figure my shit out and we can stay strong until prom at the very least.  She blames herself, despite my insistence that none of this is her fault.  It's all in my head.

Today I must eat.  I must, I must, I must.  I'm looking forward to Sunday.  I need some church and some more Emmaus cuddle-time.
 

Create a beautiful day...  

Crisis Update

I'm having a rough week.  In the aftermath of my meltdown two weeks ago, I am struggling to keep my head above the figurative waters.  I eat only because I have to, and only when I absolutely must.  The youth pastor at my church is keeping me afloat by making sure I tell her what I eat.  Last night she called me and I was able to talk to her for a while.  The thing about not eating is that once I start restricting or fasting, it's hard for me to eat again.  Starvation for me has a snowball effect - If I skip even one meal, or restrict just a little, I think, "Why not keep going? I'm on a roll."  It's a horrible, destructive cycle.  I wouldn't wish this misery on anyone. 

I also feel like my relationship is just hanging on by a thread.  My girlfriend is very loyal to me, but right now I"m not able to give back to her because of my decaying mental health.  I want her, and I want to be able to love her as much as she loves me but right now I can't.  I'm beginning to feel that our previous friendship impedes our relationship because we know each other's weaknesses and thus are too careful of each other.  I hate cutting our relationship short; I hate the idea of just throwing it away after all we've been through to get here, but I'm contemplating taking a break from the romance at the very least.  When J and I got together I thought I was ready for a relationship and that what we had could last, but lately I feel like I'm always walking on eggshells.

At this point, I want to forget all my problems and just focus on school, my art, and I want to create tons of art and read a lot.  That sounds fabulous! I wish it were that simple - just drop everything and relax.  It doesn't help any that I'm sitting in a library as I write this and I see so many great titles lining the walls. 

Speaking of books, I'm going to write a letter to J. K. Rowling.  I hope I hear back from her!  She is so fabulous. 

Dear readers, I hope you are having much better lives than me.  And for anyone with an eating disorder reading this, please seek help.  I know it seems like a good idea to starve right now, but in the long run you'll regret it.  If you don't regret it, it means you're dead. 

Create a beautiful day...