Conditional

Well, today was the last day of classes, and now I am officially done with two of my four courses.  It feels good, but at the same time there's something that's bothering me.  Today in my Animal Behavior class one of the students asked "Who here is a senior?  It's our last day of college classes ever!"  I'm a senior.  But I still have a summer and fall semester left to go.  I know I'm graduating in about 2.5 weeks, but I feel like it's a fake.  And to be honest, I really don't want to go, but I can't back out now that I've invited my family.  Graduation is supposed to mark an ending, but mine won't.  It won't really be a celebration.  I'm actually expecting to be quite upsetting because it will mean something totally different for the other graduates.

Another thing that has been going on in my mind recently-- and I know I've mentioned this several times before-- is that I miss looking and to some extent being sick in terms of my eating disorder.  When I first went to treatment when I was 17 I immediately got attention from the staff because I had to be carefully monitored because of my extremely poor health.  And then last year when I was admitted to the eating disorder wing of the hospital but then transferred to the medical wing because of an electrolyte imbalance people noticed and attended to me.  But as soon as I got better the attention went away.  Or, let me rephrase that: as soon as I got fatter the attention went away.

It feels like throughout my life love has been conditional-- I only get it when I'm skinny or dying.  Which makes me want to be dying again.  My eating disorder really did serve a purpose.  And that's part of the reason why this stupid fucking disease won't go away.

One Down...

Well, my Natural Disasters final is officially over with, and I think I did really well!  Unlike the previous two exams I've taken in that class, I actually knew the answers to the questions on this test, so I think that bodes well for me.  I still have a paper to write in that class, but I'm one step closer to being done with it.  And that's very good.

Even though I've been eating according to my meal plan for the past week, last night I took a handful of laxatives.  This was a very, very bad choice.  I made myself really, really sick, and it was not pleasant at all.  I just got really anxious and I needed to get all of the food out of my body one way or another, and this was the only way I could do it.  Kids, don't abuse laxatives.  Bad things will happen.

In other news, D and I have been trying to find me a psychiatrist in the city where I live because Dr. N works where my parents live and I don't want to have to take the train home whenever I need a med adjustment.  So far, we have failed miserably.  Today I spoke with a psychiatrist who, as soon as he heard the words "eating disorder" he said "Sorry, I don't do eating disorders.  Might I suggest [insert the name of a local eating disorder treatment center here]?"

It's amazing how many people don't treat people with eating disorders-- I think some treating professionals are afraid of them because they carry such a high risk of death (anorexia is the most lethal psychiatric disorder).  I think others think that you can't recover from an eating disorder-- that it's a lifelong disorder like schizophrenia.  And to be honest, I often think this too.  But we need help.  And someone needs to give it to us.

You Always Do Well

Have I ever told you that my mom has planned my funeral and written my eulogy?  Well, she has.

I am depressed.  And there really hasn't been a trigger-- I've just been feeling like death for several days.  My eating, miraculously, has been excellent since Tuesday, so maybe the feelings that I would usually express using eating disordered behaviors are just popping up in a different way.  But these feelings are there, and these feelings are strong.

In other news, I have my exams for my Natural Disasters and Cognitive Psychology classes on Monday and Tuesday, and I'm feeling stressed (which, come to think of it, is probably not helping the depression), but I'm having a hard time staying motivated to study.  I mean, maybe I'm wrong and I'm just in really good shape and that's why I find it pointless to read through my materials again, but all I know is that I keep on finding distractions so as not to study.  I can't wait for Tuesday at 3pm-- I'll be done with two of my four courses.

Today I spoke with my parents (as I am required to do every Sunday), and I mentioned my exams.  Their reply: "Don't worry, NOS.  You always do well."  Now, this may seem like a nice, encouraging complement, but I don't think they realize how much pressure that implicitly puts on me.  Saying "You always do well" defines me as a good student, so I feel I have to work hard to maintain that definition.  And if I don't do well, well, then I have failed to live up to my parents' expectations and I am nothing.  I'm not sure if this is making any sense, but I swear it does in my head.  The bottom line is that when people tell you you always do well, it implies that they have an expectation for you to do well, and therefore a mistake seems even more costly.  I already put enough pressure on myself-- I don't need any more, thank you very much.

Change

Change, Blind Melon

[Lead singer Shannon Hoon committed suicide in 1995.]

I don't feel the sun is coming out today

It's staying in, it's gonna find another way

As I sit here in this misery

I don't think I'll ever, no lord, see the sun from here

And as I fade away

They'll all look at me and say, and they'll say

"Hey look at him, I'll never live that way"
But that's okay, they're just afraid to change

And when you feel your life ain't worth living
You've got to stand up and take a look around you
Then a look way up to the sky
And when your deepest thoughts are broken
Keep on dreaming, boy

When you stop you know you're going to die

And as we all play parts of tomorrow
Some ways we'll work and other ways we'll play
But I know we can't all stay here forever
So I want to write my words on the face of today
 Before they paint it 

And as I fade away
They'll all look at me and say, they'll say
"Hey look at him and where he is these days"
When life is hard, you have to change
When life is hard, you have to change

Up And Down

Yesterday during the day I felt like I was on top of the world.  I had been eating according to my meal plan for two days, and I felt hopeful for a few hours.  I started to think about my future and what I want to do after uni, and I felt like I had the capacity to get through graduate school.  I had dinner out with RH, as I do every Wednesday, and I ate until I felt full and then stopped.  That's hard for me to do.

And then as I was winding up my day my mood plummeted.  Quickly and dramatically.  I just felt so depressed and incapable, and the feeling continued on today.  In fact, in my Cognitive Psychology class I had to work extremely hard to blink back the tears that were forming.

I still have visions of hanging myself.  There is a real part of me that wants to die because (1) I've messed up my life so much up to this point, (2) my current life and the life ahead of me seems hard and daunting, and (3) I believe that people will love me more and notice me if I'm dead (right now I feel so worthless and ignored).

I wonder if it will ever happen, or if I'll spend the rest of my life wishing and planning for it to happen.

Success, Finally

I did it!  I followed my meal plan today!  Of course, I have to make it about one more hour, but I think I'm going to be able to do it.  It feels really good to eat moderately, and I'm hoping that I'll be able to sustain this type of eating for a long time.  The semester is coming to a close and I have a lot of exams and papers due, and I just can't afford to be starving myself.

Speaking of the end of the semester, I'm really looking forward to it.  I just want to be done!  Next week I have an exam on Monday and then another exam on Tuesday, but for some reason I'm not freaking out about them.  I feel like I have a handle on things so I won't be too overwhelmed.  But even just thinking about it now, I can project that my anxiety will increase the closer I get to exam time.  But at 3:00pm a week from today I will be done with two out of my four classes.  And that's going to feel good.

Unworthy Of Nourishment

I did a lot better with my eating today than I did yesterday and Saturday, but I still wasn't able to follow my meal plan totally.  But I'm getting closer, and I think that tomorrow I will be able to do it.  However, there were times today when I just felt like throwing in the towel and saying "screw it" and just completely spiral into a relapse, so I had to remember that my eating disorder has done so much more harm than it has good, and that it will continue to harm if I let it make decisions for me.  But I'm in a really hard spot.

In terms of depression things weren't terrible, but I've been plagued by feelings of guilt.  I know this is a recurring theme, but I always consider myself to be a waste of my parents' money, and on some days I just feel so awful about it.  They say they love me and I believe them, but I don't think I deserve their love.  I have caused them so much pain, but still they give me so much.  I live such a privileged life.  In a way, I think things would be easier for me to handle if they didn't love me-- then at least I would get what I feel I should be getting.

In addition to my parents' love, sometimes I don't feel like I deserve food either.  And it completely doesn't make sense because I think everyone in the world deserves to have the food they need, but for some reason I'm the exception.  I feel like I'm a glutton.  I know this isn't rational, however, because my meal plan is comprised of a reasonable amount of food (or at least that's what I'm told), but still I feel like I am just not worthy of nourishment, be it emotional or physical.

Weekend At Home

Sorry I didn't post this weekend-- I decided to go home to visit my puppy and generally take a break, and I didn't have my computer with me.  I didn't do much at home-- I had a session with D, I went to group, and I hibernated.  The hibernation was exquisite and much needed.  I am chronically tired, and because I'm constantly doing something here at uni there are few opportunities for me to really catch up on my sleep.

Something else I did at home?  I messed up my eating.  On Saturday night I binged; there was just so much food in the house and I guess I was feeling deprived so I couldn't eat in moderation.  As a consequence, today I have restricted all day.  I am so mad at myself.  I really, really, REALLY want this to stop, but I'm feeling powerless and helpless.  This needs to end.  Now.  I have enlisted the help of SH-- I asked her if I could call or text her when I'm about to do something stupid, and she said she would help.  But SH has a life, a job, and school, so I may have to really work on exercising self-control during the time from when I call or text her to when I get a response back.

I'm not trying to make excuses for my eating disordered behavior, but I think my current struggles really illustrate the fact that I have an eating disorder, and that it's not just a phase, a diet, or something like that.  This is a real disease that lives in my brain somewhere, and at times that part of my brain has control.  It's a compulsion.  And I know compulsions can be managed, but it's difficult.  Really difficult.

I May Be Peter Pan

Today is the second day in a row that I have followed my meal plan.  I know that doesn't seem like a lot (it doesn't seem like a lot to me either), but it's a lot better than it could be given my recent behavior.  As I mentioned yesterday, I really, really want to get back on track.  I liked how it was from September until March-- I would only occasionally use eating disordered behaviors-- maybe once every three weeks.  That was the best I've done in years, and I'm determined to go back to that.

In general my mood was fine today, although there was one brief dip.  It was a beautiful day today, and as I was walking across campus I saw a man eating on one of the picnic tables.  He was old-- I would say in his late 70s or early 80s-- and as he put the food in his mouth his hand was trembling.

I immediately felt sad.  Elderly people make me feel incredibly depressed because I feel like they are a glimpse of what I have to look forward to: mental and physical decline.  No thank you.  I'm only 22 years old and I already want to die; I don't understand how most people in their 80s still want to live.  Maybe I feel this way because I'm judging the future based on my past, and my past is not good.

I just never want to grow old.  I may in fact be Peter Pan.

Turning Things Around

Today I had my monthly appointment with Dr. L, the psychologist at the uni counseling center that I have to check in with as a condition of my return from medical leave.  And, just like last time, I lied through my teeth.  I told her that everything was going well in terms of my mood and eating and she was ecstatic.  She said that I seem to have changed direction taken a new path in life and I will continue to go down this path to good things.  Ha.  I mean, things aren't terrible, but I wouldn't describe them as "good."  But I have to lie to her because I'm afraid if I tell the truth uni will be taken away from me and that CANNOT happen.

So instead I have to work hard to really turn things around so that next time I won't have to lie to Dr. L.  And today I took a step towards that.  As I do every Wednesday, today I had dinner with RH.  She wasn't feeling well, so instead I bought some food and brought it back to her dorm so that she could make herself pasta and I could eat whatever I wanted.  I decided to try this new restaurant on campus that sells salads, wraps, and frozen yogurt-- I decided on a wrap.  And!  I didn't restrict at all!  I knew approximately how many calories were in the wrap because the restaurant's website lists the nutrition facts for its food.  So I knew how much I was supposed to eat, and I ate it.  I must say, I'm proud of myself.  (Unfortunately now my stomach is really hurting, so I'm not sure if I'll eat snack tonight.  But that's not for eating disordered reasons-- something about the wrap didn't agree with me.)

My trip to Israel this summer is also a motivation for me to whip myself into shape.  Yesterday was the deadline to withdraw, so now it's official-- I'm definitely going.  I know no matter how good my eating is at the time of the trip it's going to be a challenge to not have my food every day.  But this is basically a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I really don't want my eating disorder to take that away from me along with everything else.  It's already taken too much.

On Religion

My friend DD sent me a link today to an article in the New York Times: In Orthodox Jewish Enclaves, an Alarm Sounds Over Eating Disorders.  It's pretty interesting-- it's about the prevalence of eating disorders in young orthodox Jewish women.

I was born and raised Jewish.  From kindergarten until 5th grade I attended a private Jewish day school in which half of the day was taught in English, and the other half in Hebrew.  We would pray every day.  In 6th grade I transferred into the local public school system, but I still attended Hebrew school through my family's synagogue a few nights a week.  I had a bat mitzvah.  However, I was always skeptical of what I was being taught-- I felt like I was getting only one side of the story.

By the time I was in high school I considered myself culturally Jewish, but not religiously Jewish.  In fact, I was/am an atheist.  The reason for this is because I felt like the god that I had been taught about for all of these years let awful things happen to people all around the world.  And he somehow forgot about me and left me alone to deal with crippling depression and an eating disorder.  To me it just made more sense to conclude that he doesn't exist.

But a few years ago when I was really struggling with these issues, I must admit that I considered visiting my temple's rabbi to see what she had to say-- if she had an explanation for my suffering.  I never actually went to her, but today after reading this article I considered it once again.  I don't know if I'll go speak to her or if I'll believe what she'll say, but I guess what I really want is a reason.  Why me?  Why DD?  Why anyone dealing with these issues?  "Children of god" deserve better.

Like The Nile Flows

As I mentioned on Saturday, my parents picked me up on Sunday to take me to IHOP for breakfast.  It was a really hard meal for me to handle, but I ate as much as my meal plan dictated.  Of course, afterwords I felt a huge surge of panic and regret and thought about the number of calories I ate.  I want to point out that IHOP lists the caloric content of its food on the menu so I know how much I ate, but my mind automatically goes to the thought "They're lying.  And every chef is different-- who is to say that every pancake in every IHOP in the country has the same exact caloric content?  I should eat less just to be safe."  But I didn't eat less or restrict.  Consequently, I obsessed about it for almost the entire day.

Then my parents dropped me off back at my dorm and ever since then tears have been gushing from my eyes like the Nile flows.  That is to say I have been very depressed.  Even though I really, really dislike my dad and my my mom isn't great either, it was really nice to have someone to talk to.  The problem is that I have so much to say but no one to say it to, and when my parents were here I finally had an outlet.  Then it was swiftly whisked away.  So I spent the rest of the day listening to sad Simon & Garfunkel songs and crying and obsessing over breakfast.

The depression and tears continued on to today when I had a session with D.  The session was only six hours ago, but I was such a mess that I can barely remember what we talked about.  I remember we talked about my lack of friends and the fact that this coming weekend there is a huge uni-wide event that is supposedly the highlight of the year, but that I'm not participating because I have no one to go with.  Also, this event can be most accurately described as a "drunk-fest," and that's not something that piques my interest, so instead I will be in my dorm, most likely doing schoolwork.  D suggested that I come home this weekend so I could see the love of my life--my dog-- and be around people, but I can't even do that because I have to staff the uni helpline that night.  Dammit.

I never want to leave my dorm again.  I never want to do anything again.  I just want to stay in my bed and gather dust.  Actually, come to think of it, that wouldn't be very different from the current state of affairs.  I want this all to stop.

I Wish That I Could Be Richard Cory

Richard Cory, Simon & Garfunkel

[This is probably my second favorite song ever.]

They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town

With political connections to spread his wealth around
Born into society, a banker's only child

He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be

Oh, I wish that I could be

Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory

The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes

Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show

And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht

Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he's got

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be

Oh, I wish that I could be

Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory

He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch
And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much
So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read

"Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head."

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be
Oh, I wish that I could be
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory

Stubbornness And Determination

 Flowers outside my dorm building

Today was a beautiful day outside, but I spent it in the library working on my paper for my Social Behavior of Animals class.   It was hard to focus, but I really want to get this paper done this weekend so that I will be (essentially) done with the class for the semester.  Then I will only have one other paper and three finals left before graduation, which is mid-May.  It's hard to believe that there are only two weeks and two days left of classes-- I never thought I would have made it this far.  But as D says, I'm incredibly stubborn, and sometimes I transform that stubbornness into determination.  I guess it's a gift and a curse.

In other news, tonight was the Wind Ensemble concert, and I think we did a good job!  Even if we did poorly I had a good time.  My parents came to hear us play; it was really nice having someone there clapping for me.  Earlier in the week they had asked me whether I would like them to take me out to dinner before the concert and I said no because sometimes not eating my usual food triggers a lot of eating disordered thoughts and I really don't want to engage in any more behaviors.  But after the concert they asked me whether they could take me out to breakfast before they go home tomorrow and I had no excuse to say no.  I'm anxious about it, but I suggested we go to IHOP because they have the nutritional information for their food on their website, so I would know exactly how much I should eat.  Even so, I'm worried.

Not So Bad

Despite some obstacles this week in terms of mood and eating, things have not gone so badly.  On Tuesday I had my presentation for my Social Behavior of Animals class, and I think it went relatively well.  I think I spoke well (which was my biggest concern-- when I get anxious, as I tend to do in social situations, I always feel like I trip over my words), and I knew the material very well.  But at the end of the presentation my professor proceeded to rip apart the articles that I chose to present, so I don't know if that reflects badly on me, the articles, or both.  But I know the professor very well (this is the third class I've taken with him) and he's not out to have people do poorly in his class.  So I'm not extremely concerned, but still a little worried.

I've also had some good things happen at work this week.  On Thursdays we always have a lab meeting with the professor whose lab it is, my immediate boss, and the other research assistants.  The professor asked us to give her some feedback on something that she proposed, and I did.  Then as I was leaving the room she said "NOS, you always have very insightful and well-thought out feedback.  I appreciate that."  That put a smile on my face!  And remember last week when I told you that my immediate boss taught me a new challenging task?  Well, today she reviewed my performance and it turns out that I did very well!  She said "Great job!  Next time it's all you!"  That felt good to hear.

Tomorrow is my Wind Ensemble's concert, and tonight we had a dress rehearsal and we sounded really good.  Throughout the semester we had been playing without several parts (meaning we had instruments missing), but tonight the conductor brought in some professional musicians and musicians from the community to fill in what was missing and it made a HUGE difference.  I think we're going to do well tomorrow, but I'll be sad that it's over.  I've had fun and met some really nice people through Wind Ensemble.  I hope I make it again next year!

Double Life

This is going to be a short post because I have made myself sick using laxatives and I feel like I'm going to throw up.  It may also be due to the fact that all I've had to eat today is half of a not-so-great banana.  I'm mad at myself.

Today in class (after I had taken the laxatives) I had a thought: No one knows that when I go back to my dorm I do these awful things to myself-- making myself sick.  I put on an excellent show, and my reality is kept a secret.  It's like I lead a double life.  But then again, there are probably people in my classes who appear healthy but then go home and make themselves sick too.  Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who does what I do, but I know I'm one of many.

Too Much

I had so many thoughts yesterday, but I could not for the life of me form a coherent sentence.  My eating has been very good since Saturday, but my mood has plummeted.  Come to think of it, it's probably because I am doing well in terms of eating that I am feeling so depressed.  Usually I'm numb to everything and I live my life on automatic pilot, but for the last four days I have been feeling things intensely.

Yesterday I had intrusive thoughts about my experience with ECT.  Specifically, I had vivid images of my first time when before I was taken to the room I began to wail and beg for them not to take me.  But they forced me to go against my will to engage in probably one of the most barbaric forms of treatment for psychiatric disorders there is.  I felt terrified, angry, upset, hopeless, helpless, and not in control of my life.  I have been through some scary things, but nothing has been as traumatizing as the ECT was.

I have my dinner tomorrow with RH and I do not want to go-- I'd just rather be alone with my schoolwork.  (Actually, there's also the eating factor-- depending on the food we get it sometimes triggers me to use behaviors.  Basically, I feel safe with sushi and pizza and everything else isn't good.)  But I can't tell her that I don't want to go because she doesn't know about my "issues" and so I would have to make up an excuse and I really don't want to lie.  Plus, she'd probably insist that we make up for it another night, and I don't want to do that either.

Life feels like too much.  I never want to leave my dorm again.  I don't want to deal with the world.  In fact, it would be ideal if I were in a coma.  Can that be arranged?

Face A La Mer

Face a la Mer, Calogero et Passi

On ne choisit ni son origine

Ni sa couleur de peau
Comme on reve d'une vie de cahteau
Quand on vit le ghetto
Natre l'tau autour du cou comme Cosette pour Hugo
Natre en treillis dans le conflit
Et prier le tres haut
Fils du C.O.N.G.O
Cette haine j'ai au M.I.C.R.O j'ai l' poids des mots
Sortir d'en bas
Rever de dechirer ce tableau fait d'armes, de l'armes
Fait de sang et de sanglots

Face la mer
J'aurais d grandir
Face contre terre
J'aurais pu mourir
Je me relve
Je prends mon dernier reve

Tous les deux de la meme dalle
Et tous les deux decus

Je prends mon dernier reve

 C'est la scheresse sur une terre o l'on n' cesse de semer tristesse
Dans les yeux qui n' peuvent pleurer j'ai beaucoup de reves lointains
Je me suis tant rebell, j'ai bu beaucoup de baratin et ca m'a trop saoul
Dans la vie y a des tapes au fond et des tapes cot, des t'as pas un euro
Ou la tape l'arrache, y a l'Etat, les RMmistes, les " t'as qu' taffer. "
Si t'es en bas faut cravacher, t'as qu' pas lecher
T'as pas connu ca toi, l'envie d'empocher les patates
Etre gauche droite face la mer loin des galres
T'as pas connu ca, l'envie de d' t'en sortir distribuer des patates des
Gauches droites avec un air patibulaire

Face la mer
J'aurais d grandir
Face contre terre
J'aurais pu mourir
Je me relve
Je prends mon dernier reve

 Tous deux de la meme dalle
Et tous deux decus

Je prends mon dernier reve
Face la mer
C'est toi qui resistes
Face contre terre
Ton nom sur la liste
De tout ton etre
Cit comparatre

C'est l'histoire de cette plume qui s'touffe dans le goudron

Cette matire grise don't le pays n'a pas fait acquisition, on se relve
On repart fond, on vise le Panthon, j'en place une ceux qui en ont
Qui revent concecration, la dalle la niaque, je l'ai comme mes potes l'ont
On veut toucher le ciel toil sans baisser l' pantalon. Trop peu bonnes fes
Et trop de Cendrillon. Calo-Passi 2004 action

Face la mer
J'aurais d grandir
Face contre terre
J'aurais pu mourir
Je me relve
Je prends mon dernier reve

Tous deux de la meme dalle
Et tous deux decus

 Je prends mon dernier reve.

 Tous deux de la meme dalle
Et tous deux decus

Je prends mon dernier reve

On ne choisit ni son origine, ni sa couleur de peau
Comme on reve d'une vie de chteau
Quand on vit le ghetto
Natre l'tau autour du cou comme Cosette pour Hugo
Natre en treillis dans le conflit et prier le tres haut
Fils du C.O.N.G.O cette haine j'ai au M.I.C.R.O j'ai l'poids des mots
Sortir d'en bas, rever de dchirer ce tableau fait d'armes, de l'armes
Fait de sang et de sanglots

Face la mer
On veut tous grandir
Calo-Passi trop jeunes pour mourir

One Third Done

Not much happened today.  I still feel depressed from yesterday, especially because I didn't have much to do today.  I practiced my presentation for my Social Behavior of Animals class-- I have to talk about Machiavellian Intelligence in animals for an hour and a half.  It's going to be a challenge.  The longest presentation I have ever had to give was about fifteen minutes, so this is going to be a big step.  I'm always wary of public speaking because when I get nervous I tend to trip over my words and I end up sounding a lot dumber than I am.  I really hope this doesn't happen.

Not only does this presentation feel daunting, but life seems daunting.  I'm almost 23 years old (less than three months away), which means I am almost done with 1/3 of my life, which of course means that there is 2/3 left.  I really don't want to live for another 55 years.  I just don't foresee anything really happening that would make me want to live for another 20,000 days.  What can be that good?

Anyway, eating went well today, but thoughts did not.  Dinner did not fill me up, and so then the eating disordered voice started to tell me to binge.  But I know that binging just means purging (with laxatives) and fasting for two days, and I have to be able to eat the morning of my presentation on Tuesday, so I decided to eat something small-- a yogurt-- to see if it would help.  I figured that eating a little more food than usual is better than eating a lot more food than usual.  And it actually worked.  It took a little while and for a while I thought that I was going to give in to the voice, but I so far I haven't.  This is kind of encouraging.  I want to get back to doing well, and maybe I'm developing the strength to do that.

Not To Be Me

I had a tough afternoon in terms of depression.  I was talking to my friend SH and she asked me if I had plans for tonight.  I told her that I don't have plans because I don't have friends.  Then I fell apart.  I just started sobbing.  I want to have friends so badly, but at the same time I never want to leave my dorm.  I'm afraid I'm never going to make friends.  I've already failed at making friends in college, and where am I going to meet people afterwords?

I told SH that I would pay a lot of money not to be me.  And that people don't realize how grateful they should be to not be me.  I hate myself and I hate my life.  I don't know what I did to deserve all of this shit, but it must have been something really, really bad.

However, I did eat today.

Ending Well

Today didn't start off well in terms of eating, but it ended well.  I'm actually trying to write this post as quickly as possible so I can go to sleep so that the day can end on a good note and I don't ruin it by taking laxatives or binging.  I meant it when I said yesterday that I'm trying hard to get back on track.  I am determined to end this semester on a good note and not let this relapse (is this a relapse?) extend into the summer.

Speaking of the semester, there are officially three weeks and two days until classes are over.  I can't believe it!  I've almost made it!  And I plan on making it.  But whenever I think about this I get really anxious because I have so much to do by April 26: one homework assignment, one presentation, two papers, and two finals.  I have a third final on May 5, but that will be after classes end.  It's going to be a push.

In an effort to end both the day and this post well, I have some good news.  Today at work my boss decided to show me how to do a certain task in the lab.  She said that she thinks that I'm ready for the greater responsibility.  I was flattered!  It's nice to hear that someone has confidence in you and thinks you're worth investing time in.  Especially when you're not feeling worthy or confident in yourself.