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. 

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.

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. 

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...

Dilemna

Brilliant.  I have barely eaten in the past four days.  This is just absolutely brilliant. *sarcastic voice*

Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck

Not only do I love Rooney Mara, but I fucking love this shirt, and I want one.  My day sucks.
k bye.

Uh-oh...

Today I have an appointment with a new therapist.  It's the same therapist my girlfriend sees; J suggested I try working with her. I really don't mind seeing a new therapist, and I'm excited to start working with her.  The only thing that bothers me about today is that it's my first appointment with her, which means a bit of family therapy.  I hate family therapy!! I can tell my mom is just as stressed out as I am.  She likes to play the cool, calm, in control mother and pretends to be deeply loving and comforting towards me when a doctor is watching.  In real life she's full of harsh, rude questions and everything is my fault.  I hate that.  Last night she was pissed off at me for absolutely no reason other than the fact that I'm fucked and she has to go to therapy with me today. 

In my opinion, she has it easy.  All she has to do is sit there, look nice, and give the doctor her insurance information.  I have to pass off a bunch of bullshit to my parents and sit on my hands the whole time so they won't see that I've been scratching the skin off the back of my hands.  It's not self-injury so much as it's an anxiety problem, but they wouldn't understand that.  Self injury really pisses my mom off and she tends to punish me by taking away my internet priveleges or my music when she finds out I've been hurting myself. 

As soon as my parents leave the room I can tell my therapist the truth, but I can't own up to hurting myself in my parent's presence.  My mom has seen one of the scratches on my left hand and is under the impression that it's the remnants of a blister from dripping hot water on myself by accident.  Once I start a lie like this, I have to keep it up until my hand heals and the scar is all gone.  That way they can forget about it. 

After my appointment I get to see my girlfriend for a very short bit - she has the appointment right after me, so I'll get a kiss in the waiting room before I leave. 

I love her.  I'm so relieved that I got to spend some time with her yesterday.  She came to church to me.  <3 Jessa + church = the perfect night for Sapphire.  All the things I love rolled into one. 
The bell is about to ring - I have to get to class... :P Wish me luck!

So here's what's up:

 My meds just stopped working out of the blue. I had the two most fantastic weeks I've had in years, and I thought I was, like, cured. But on Sunday morning I woke up and I knew it was over. I was at church camp and my pastor and I sat in a coat rack while I cried and cried and cried. I probably scared the shit out of her because I scratched through the skin on the back of my left hand and couldn't explain why I was so upset because I was crying so hard.  Also, I just didn't know why I was so upset.  I didn't know what was wrong at first.

I tried to go to school yesterday, but I just sat in front of a computer and cried for two hours ,so the counselor let me go home. I told my parents I needed to go to the ER. I didn't want to hurt myself or kill myself but I needed serious help and I didn't know what else to do. They determined that my outpatient treatment is failing, so I have to start from scratch again. New meds, new doctors, new routine. It fucking sucks.

Snuggles for your heart :)

Remember what I posted yesterday? Well things are different.  Everything is changing.  I now have a beautiful girl in my life and I want to be the best person I can be for her. 

No, i know that realistically everything will not be perfect just. like. that. but I can try harder, you know? So I'm not gonna mope around on my blog anymore.  I'm not going to post thinspo on my tumblr anymore.  I'm going to be a happy cheerful kind of girl.

J gives me so much hope and when I am with her, I am truly happy.  I can't wait for this weekend! I'm spending most of it with her. :)
Wish me luck, ladies and gents!

To be, or not to be thin...

That, my friends, is the question. 

I feel that I've been eating too much.  I think I overeat and tell myself it is okay because I am recovering from anorexia and bulimia.  Realistically, it is never okay to overeat!  Yes, it is alright if I allow myself to eat and be well, but I have to have limits just like everyone else.  I can limit what I'm eating and still love myself.  I won't be unhealthy. 

So I've decided to cut back.  Not too much, I will just pay more attention to portion size and I will eat only when I'm hungry.  I don't have to be ritualistic about it like I once was, and I don't plan on counting calories or anything.  I want to eat a little bit less is all.  I am going to start exercising more, too.  I'm too soft.  I'm going to walk more and I am going to start lifting weights so that I can get strong arms and a strong back.  I wouldn't mind hard-core abs, either. 

I'm terrified of becoming unhealthy and becoming an overweight, depressed, middle-aged failure and I'm on the road to becoming just that the way I eat!  I've been eating junk food too much.  This morning I had two left-over pancakes smothered in butter and syrup for breakfast.  I was considering having a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, too, but I talked myself out of it. 

I'm not one to let food go to waste, so I will finish the box of cinnamon toast crunch; I'll spread it out in small servings.  After that I'll start eating healthier things like muesli and whole-grain toast for breakfast (not together obviously, I only ever have one thing for breakfast).

I've gained a lot of weight over the past six - seven months.  I swore to myself I would never go over 120, but already I have let myself slip up to 140.  I haven't been eating much at all lately and I weighed myself this morning to find I'm back down to 130.

If, as a result of this diet, I lose weight, it will be a happy side-affect.  If I don't I'm okay with that.  At least I'll be eating healthier and getting more exercise.

F*ed up Tests and Favorite Teachers

So, about that essay I was supposed to write yesterday... turns out it was an essay test.  When I found this out right after class ended, I was horrified.  I ran home immediately after school and had it written within an hour and a half.  I've never skipped a test before.  I couldn't believe what I'd done when heard the other kids talking about this being the third TEST in AP Lit and Comp this week. 

We're going to start reading Shakespeare next; Hamlet in specific, I think.  I will diligently take notes and read everything I'm supposed to this time! 

For Snow Week (similar to homecoming week, only based around Valentine's Day) we have dress up days all week.  So far we've had Pajama day, Crazy Socks day, College Jersey day, and today is Dress Like Your Favorite Teacher today.  This is the only day I've dressed up for all week.  A teacher of mine and I are wearing all-matching jeans, black shoes, blue shirts, and black cardigans.  We have the same short haircut too, but my hair is purple.  She is much thinner than I am too. I wish I were as thin as her.  I'm just built a little bigger than her.  My bones are turned out wider or something.  She has a narrow, European face; tiny, willowy limbs; and a super skinny torso.  Her hands are long, thin, and graceful.  When I hug her I can feel her bones through her shirt.  She used to be anorexic in college.  I know she's not really anymore, but it still makes me nervous being able to feel her bones all over.  She seems so fragile. 
 

I adore her, though.  She's beautiful, really smart, cultured, and has a really fun personality.  She reminds me of my sister a little bit.  We're very close.  I've learned a lot from her... We email back and forth all day most days, and if I don't email her over the weekend she usually comments on it and asks me what I did over the weekend. 
 

 

Tonight I'm going to gay group.  I'm so excited! I haven't been there in ages.  I always have play practice on Thursday nights, so I'm not able to go, but I have a break between the One Act play and the spring play to go two or three times. 
 

I miss my friends, I want a hug from my ex-girlfriend... Life has been rough lately.  I'm having issues with my friends at school.  I know, I know, everyone goes through that.  Here's the thing though: friends for me are few and far between.  So when two of them exclude me and start keeping secrets from me, serious damage is done.  I cry a lot.  It's really quite pathetic, but its true.  I'm miserable without them.  My heart is breaking and I feel as though my very soul is bleeding.  It hurts.  It hurts the most because they won't tell me why they're treating me this way.  They're making very vague excuses and I know something's up.  I hate it.  :( I need a hug. 
 

I'm getting a D-?! Well, I guess that makes sense...

Have you ever found yourself in a situation like the one I’m in now?  I am sitting in my A.P. Literature & Composition class.  We’ve just finished reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, or at least we are supposed to have finished reading it.  I gave up after chapter 12, so there are three chapters left, two of which are veeeerrry long.  Although I’m sure the final 83 pages in the book don’t differ very much at all from the rest of the hideously boring novel, I’m still behind.  We’ve been given an hour and a half to write two essays about the book.  I chose the easiest questions, I have a few ideas about what to write, but I simply don’t have it in me to write two, spur-of-the-moment essays right now!  Most of the class is busy flipping through the book to find (finger quotes and cheesy announcer voice) supporting evidence for their thesis in the text (end quote) or pecking away frantically on their laptops.
I know there are one or two other students in my class who gave up reading ages ago because the book is so dull.   I wonder if they’re struggling as much as me.  I don’t really think that the fact I didn’t finish reading the book has that much to do with my writers’ block, but I know that after I am FINALLY free from the confines of this classroom, I must go home and finish reading that book.  I wish I had taken notes while I was reading.  Then I would at least have twelve chapters of random thoughts so I could bullsh*t my way through these essays. 
The essays are due at the end of the day but I know I’m not going to accomplish anything.  I’ll have to turn them in late. *Gasp.* I just have to stay motivated and actually get it done – preferably sooner rather than later. 
I have this issue with not getting anything done because of my depression.  I either never start my homework because I feel like I’m just setting myself up for failure (so why even try?) or I intend to start and carefully plan out when I will do the work.  Sometimes I really do try to get some work done but it takes a lot of time and effort so I acquire a “what the hell” attitude and give up. 

The anorexic part of me hates this.  “Get your goddamn work done,” she says. “It’s really not that hard.  Everyone else can function perfectly fine and get all their work done on time.   Why can’t you just put in some EFFORT for once, you fat bitch?!”  My bulimia nods solemnly in agreement but doesn’t say a word.  She’s not very assertive and hates confrontation unless you feed her. 
I have loads of work to do and since I just love making lists, here’s one now:
1.       Big Picture project for online Anthropology class
2.       two sketchbook assignments for online Fine Art
3.       Federalism Timeline for Senior Social
4.       FINISH READING PILGRIM AT TINKER CREEK AND WRITE THE FUCKING ESSAYS! And while I’m at it I should probably do the simile discussion response from two weeks ago.
5.       manicure / pedicure
6.       go to Hannah’s house to borrow a dress from her
7.       clean my room
8.       write to Keira (my ex-girlfriend)
9.       arrange to get a ride to and from Gay Lesbian Youth Support meeting tomorrow
So as you can see, I’m a very busy girl.  I really wish I could just get all my homework done tonight, as well as everything else on my list and then log back into my online classes and get ahead in those.  It’s always nice to be ahead.  Successful people should be ahead, wouldn’t you agree?

There are 45 minutes left of class and I should probably do something productive with that time, or at least pretend to, so I am signing off for now. 
Love,
ME

Hello dear readers...

... that is, if I even have any readers.  I know that somewhere, someone must be reading this because it says so in my stats. There has been a lot going on.  I've been a very busy girl and I'm getting busier every minute! For starters, I'm in the third week of a new semester at school.  I'm taking classes in anthropology, fine art, civics, A.P. literature and composition, choir, and concert band.  Two of my classes are online and I like that a lot.  It's easy to get ahead in an online class since you can log on and work whenever you want.  I like to get ahead so that I can spend the time I have in the library for online classes studying, doing homework, reading, doing research, and of course satisfying my addiction to Tumblr. 

The first few weeks of my classes haven't been terribly heavy in homework but today it seems like I'm swamped!  So, why am I blogging instead of hitting the books? That, my friends, is a very good question.  I need a creative outlet, I guess.  I've been dealing with a lot of stress.  I know, I know. Procrastination isn't going to help with that.  I do have good reason for spending so much time online though! Well, sort of.  When I'm online blogging and browsing Tumblr, I get all kinds of cool ideas for projects.  I also go online to look for apartments, apply for college, apply for scholarships, email my friends for moral support; blogging is a way for me to get all those racing thoughts and ideas out of my head.

So now I'll stop making excuses for why I'm not doing my homework and just write.  That is, after all, what I came for. 

I recently found out that a friend of mine was raped in October.  It's a tricky situation because she was passed out drunk when it happened.  I believe her, but if she wants to press charges she may have a hard time proving her credibility.  As of yet, she is in limbo about pressing charges.  She has friends in common with her attacker and doesn't want them to be angry at her or judge her. She already has people calling her a slut behind her back.  It doesn't do her any good that she flirts like one, but I don't think she does it intentionally.  She's just a very friendly girl and she doesn't know any better.  Maybe she needs help making boundaries. 

I'm worried about approaching her about the subject of her rape, because its a very sensitive topic.  I want her to be able to come to me to talk about it if she needs to, but I also have questions.  I want her to press charges, but I can't push her to do so.  I want to ask questions about how it happened, how she knows she was raped, but I don't want to upset her if she's trying to keep her mind off of it. 
My friends seems very calm and "over it" so to speak.  She's told me that she was upset immediately afterwards and for several weeks after that.  I suppose she's had more time to process the situation and cool off than I have, since I just found out about the whole thing recently. 

I think it's really important to press charges for rape to keep the perpetrator from repeating his or her crime.  Even if they get off with little or no consequences, spending some uncomfortable time in court or facing the victim's friends or family would warn them that they shouldn't risk hurting someone else and that what they did is very serious.  Rape is very common, and unfortunately very rarely reported. 

There is also a rape victim in the play I'm currently a part of.  It's a one-act play called "Asylum."  It's a series of monologues given by each of the characters telling their stories about how they came to be in the asylum.  My character is an agoraphobic woman who would not leave her apartment or make any phone calls - even when her roommate died.  There is also a girl who was kidnapped, a boy who cuts himself, a woman who believes she is in her 11th month of pregnancy caused by dirty M&M's, a man who is obsessed with desserts and hears voices, and a teen who killed three of her friends in a car accident.  It's a really amazing show. 

When we first started, everyone clicked perfectly with the character they were assigned to.  We all love the play and have put tons of time and hard work into it.  Unfortunately our performance peaked at a rehearsal rather than at a show.  Our last show is this weekend, and even though it's been fun,  I'll be glad when its over.  It's very emotionally exhausting to do a show like this. 

I'm excited to finally go to college and study theater.  I want to be a fashion designer and an actress.  Here is my ideal future life: Go to community college for two years to finish my generals; go to the state university and double major in fashion design and theater; graduate; start acting shows at the Guthrie theater and other prestigious theaters; meet a beautiful woman, marry her, and open up a little boutique in the city to sell my fashion designs; continue acting, singing, dancing; adopt two or three children with my wife, and a dog; name the dog Sweet Dreams; live happily ever after... :)

But first of all I have to recover, go to college, find an apartment and a job... etc. 

I haven't been well, either.  I've been struggling with my depression more than ever and my therapist put me on Prozac. I'm now taking Cymbalta and Prozac.  I've taken Prozac before, but it kept me from sleeping.  If I have insomnia issues again, I'll be allowed to take tTazedone for sleeping this time. 
I'm nervous.  I just want to feel better, you know?  I'm sick of the monotonous cycle of depression, self-hatred, anorexia, bulimia, self-injury, and thoughts of suicide.  I know that things will be exponentially better after I graduate just because I'll be getting away from my classmates who have outcast me, bullied me, and taunted me for thirteen years.  I wonder how they'll react when I bring a girl dressed in a tux to prom.  Probably call us faggots or dykes, ask to have us removed, stuff like that.  I'm hopeful, though, that they'll be mature and just leave us alone no matter what their values are. 

Well, that's all for now folks... I will write more later. 
Peace

Holiday Woes

I haven't posted in a while because I've been extremely busy with school and extra curricular.  I find myself needing to write now because it is the holiday season and this is very stressful for me because of all the eating involved.  I have been trying very hard to recover, which requires me to permit myself to eat and enjoy it without fear, self-hatred, or guilt.  It's not easy. 

Thanksgiving was wrought with anxiety.  I ate mashed potatoes with butter, half a plate full of stuffing, cranberry sauce, applesauce, and two slices of pumpkin pie.  I did get to go for a short walk afterwards, and I climbed trees with my cousins, but I still felt guilty.  I was wearing my prized Calvin Klein skinny jeans and I was bloated and hanging over the waist-band.  I don't know if it was just body dysmorphia or if it was real, but I could feel rolls of fat around my middle.  I felt disgusting.  I tried to have a good time anyways.  It was pretty hard.

Since then, I've tried to ignore the fact of what I ate on Thanksgiving and move on with more important things in my life.  I really do want recovery.  Yesterday went really well.  I ate all my meals without restricting or purging, I didn't over exercise, and I felt relatively ok with myself. Today is a different story altogether.

Today I feel like my stomach is huge and the tops of my arms are flabby.  The last time  checked I weighed 131 pounds.  I should be proud of this, and be happy with my healthy body.  But I miss the days when I was 99 pounds.  That's bad. 
 

I am really struggling.  I have a war going on in my head between my superego and id.  I want  to skip lunch and workout after school, but I need to eat, accept myself, and study and go to Art Club after school. 

I have some cuts on my leg that I have to let heal before I can wear short skirts again, but what bums me out even more is that I don't know if I have the courage to wear short skirts because I'm not confident about my legs. 
 

I need to reach out to my friends and family for help and support but I am really insecure about asking for help. I see myself as a greedy person.  I want more love than I deserve, and I crave security.  Is that bad?  I love helping others, but I dont' think I'm good enough to be given help or love.
 

Now I'm just ranting.....
 

And so , dear readers, I need your support.  Send prayers, send me good vibes, whatever it is you do.  And above all, treat yourselves well today.  Be gentle and forgiving to yourself. Eat, drink, and be merry, as they say. 'Tis the season and all that...
 

If you're struggling too, post a comment and I'll email you.  I would love someone to talk to. 

If you have any advice, please share! How do you deal with feelings of self hatred, and the temptations to restrict, purge, or hurt yourself during recovery?