I took a shower this morning, and when I stepped out of the tub I saw something that I've never been able to see before. I looked over my shoulder into the mirror and, even though it was foggy, I saw the outline of my back and legs and thought about how long I am. Haha, that sounds funny but I was happy. I'm a long, slender person. I really am.

And I don't know. There were no huge bones sticking out and I still thought I looked okay. It used to be that a bone was a good sign but now bones on anything or anyone just looks ugly to me. I thought I looked pretty good from the back. I don't know, it was just interesting and nice.

It's a little thing, but little things like that are what keeps me going each day. I went to bed last night thinking about what a terrible person I am. I'm not.

I've got to go now and say goodbye to closure.

I'm having a really hard time right now. I'm not hungry. I am just plain not hungry. And to make matters worse I am nauseated. I can't hold anything down even if I try to force myself to eat. This has only been since last night but I'm terrified. I think I know why it's happening. And I don't know how to handle it.

I know it's because I'm upset. I know it's because of what happened last night, but I don't know what to do to help it. I don't know how to calm my stomach or my nerves. I don't know how to eat right now. I really need someone, so I think I'm going to call my mom. But then what do I say? Probably nothing. Probably just small talk but I need someone to talk to and everyone is at school right now.

 I don't know anymore.

I had my session with Dr. Brillart yesterday. The only personal things I really talked to him about were how I still feel a lot of pressure and hurt because it seems like I'm alone in this. It seems like no one else really wants to be healthy. We talked about Polly.

I have this crazy idea. Really, I'm sure people would find me insane. But I keep waiting. I keep waiting for someone else to do it. I don't want to do it. I want someone else to stand up and scream no, no we're not living this way anymore. I'm waiting for someone else to start a revolution. Because we don't even realize how much power we have. I'm waiting and I see the whole crowd mentality going on. We're all so much...happier? being miserable and unhealthy and doing what the media says.

I'm waiting for someone to take a hammer to that glass veil of happiness and I'm waiting for someone to live without reserve. But it hasn't happened.

And the little voice says, "You do it."

And somedays i feel so crazy I think I just might.

I miss him.

So I'm going to go see Scott tomorrow and then I don't know what. What do I tell him? See, I always try to go over in my head what I'll talk about with my therapist when I see him. And it always ends up being something totally opposite from what I planned but still...it makes me feel prepared. Should I tell him I'm doing better? Worse? The same? I don't know how I'm doing because I'm stuck in it. Day in, day out. I'm stuck in one minute feeling hopeful and the next feeling disgusting and like going back. It feels so out of my control. It shouldn't because it's more in my control now than it was before and yet...it's so terrifying.

Like...I'm wearing my old Rammstein shirt right now. Too small. I don't want to take it off. I was crying earlier because it was kind of the last straw. One of my favorite shirts, you know? What I need to do is make something out of it. Like a purse or a pillow so I can keep it with me even though it doesn't fit. It doesn't fit. It doesn't fit. It's too small. Or am I too big? No, it's not the same thing. And I'm working on teaching myself that I'm not "too" anything, no I'm not.

I was cleaning my room and I found some old surveys the specialist had given me to fill out so long ago. I don't even want to read them so I put them up in my "keepsakes" drawer and maybe...one day I'll look at them and feel proud. It will all feel so far away...instead of so temptingly close like it does now.

I wanted to talk about Saturday. It has nothing to do really with eating or my recovery. It just has to do with feelings and personal relationships so I know I'm going to be boring.

I tried to explain to her how it feels like you're a fool and you're out alone in the cold. I tried to explain how I love her and want to be there. If she could give me anything in the world...I would ask her to let me be there for her. I'm not sure if she heard me.

I went to work. Chris and Jordan got there. It was okay. Kaitlin got there. She had Popeyes and I watched her eat it all and stay the same size. See, it's strange to watch people eat like that and see nothing extraordinary happen. When I eat food I feel like I have quadrupled in size...like when I look in the mirror even I can see that I have. So it's strange to watch and comprehend that really nothing happens but that you're fueling your body when you eat.

Kaitlin and I are getting to be good friends. Like more than friends that can laugh with each other like we used to be. I don't know what happened to change it. Maybe seeing her once a week normally and we've supposedly gotten used to each other. I haven't gotten used to her. Everytime I see her I feel so hurt inside. Because she's amazing and I love to see  her...but she's amazing and I hate it.

I hate the text messages every hour from a person who loves her. I hate that he came and brought her lunch and him lunch and that they hugged each other for so long. I hate that I tried to go to the back room like I promised myself I would and it didn't help any. It just made it hurt more. I hate that I am like this. I hate the confusion of feeling so disgustingly huge around her and then suddenly chris is hugging me and telling me I'm gross for being too small. I hate the confusion of what to do. I hate that I'm on the edge of all of this. I hate that when I try to talk about it all I can do is be angry. So much anger. At what? At who?

I hate that all I want is to be so strong. I want to be who I act that I am. I don't want to lie anymore. Because inside i'm all mush and pain. And inside I am weak.

He left...and then later Kaitlin and Jordan left to go get something from the shop next door. Chris and I sat in the dance room talking. I wanted to tell him how much hurt I was feeling. All I could do was joke. And then suddenly I was telling him how much I hated everything. He just basically pulled me on top of him and hugged me while I sat there on him and told me to talk. And I just wish that I could have really talked. I wish that I could have told him. But I couldn't tell him because it's all a mess. So I just told him that I was tired of being the girl who ruined relationships. And Kaitlin and Jordan came back and she had boughten me twix and a drink. And I wanted to cry because she was so sweet.

I wonder if I would have done the same for her.

I try to not let little things like this get to me. But somehow they always do. I feel literally like I'm dangling over a cliff. And I don't know what it is to stay or to fall.

I had this big freak out at a friend's house that I'm sure no one noticed because I acted as normally as possible and we were watching a movie so I wasn't required to talk. But we were all eating shrimp or something. And everyone ate what was put in front of them. And no one moved to take anymore. And for some reason that was HUGELY triggering to me. I can't stand myself and how every single thing is triggering and it makes life exhausting and scary to live.

Anyway I was so upset because I was thinking...now I know that at least one of us still wants more shrimp but isn't getting any because the others aren't. And no one did! And that upset me so much. I thought I was just going to start crying. And it was extremely triggering. I don't know how to hang out with friends and warn them of that...like, "by the way, anything you say and or do will probably somehow upset me greatly and trigger me." Man...I don't want to do this anymore that sucks.

So eventually I moved and got some more shrimp (3 of them) hoping that someone else would too. And no one did! No one did anything. It upset me so much. It made me not only feel like everyone had this big conspiracy to eat less than me...but it made me feel like now they were all secretly laughing at me for eating more shrimp alone. And I just, wow. That was terrible. It basically bothered me all night until I went to sleep and it's still bothering me. I just want to lock myself up in a closet somedays. I really do. To protect myself. Because everything hurts.

I was all excited this morning when I woke up and had this crazy idea that I could call him so we could hang out. Tell him I was bored. I fell off that cloud fast but it just...I don't know. It's extremely painful and I just want to get over it. Over all of this.

So I have just recently bought the soundtrack to the movie Requiem for a Dream. Of course, I knew before I listened that it was going to be amazing because I'd heard a few of the songs before online.

To be honest, I've never heard music that encaptured the sound of the panic and hate and confusion and hope and fear that I have been feeling in my life. I've never really heard anything that stimulated the senses in a way that immediately brings me back to my eating disorder. The whole feel reminds me of it all. The pacing of the halls, the pain, the purging, the shutting down, just everything. I don't really know how to explain it.

I don't really know how else I would ever explain the many parts of myself all buried deep into this one body, sharing the same mind...I don't know how else to explain except to say, listen to this.

There was one song on there, number six, that really got to me. But it had nothing to do with my eating disorder...not directly, at least.

I'm not a stupid person. I know that in our society and through the media, we glorify losing your virginity as something extremely romantic, wonderful, and a magical experience. Which ends up leaving a lot of people feeling let down. I had already prepared myself for the fact that my first time would be painful and akward and even a little unpleasant. I wasn't expecting candles and promises and I love yous. Definitely not I love you's.

So when I lost it to someone I didn't know who basically screwed me without my real say so and took me home, I only cried for a few hours. I got through it. I was prepared for it to suck...life can suck a lot.

And I dropped it. I forgot, I moved on like normal and never talked to him again. Eventually he stopped calling me and I stopped caring.

But somehow lately it's bothered me...it's February now and it really shouldn't.

I have this issue with the whole myth of closure. It seldom happens in my life. I got used to the first person I loved suddenly packing and leaving. I got used to a really good friend becoming indifferent. I got used to a dad that will make promises and break them like it's going out of style. Because that's life.

Somehow I thought I had gotten used to this, and it's come sneaking up on me to bite me in the ass. Maybe it's because there's this secret part of me that feels used. Maybe it's because I don't know his last name or his favorite color...or maybe it's because I don't remember what he looks like or what color his eyes are. All I remember is how his hands felt and that's it. I remember saying no and I remember him saying I would change my mind. I remember the fear and the excitement. So I'm trying to move on with just that.
Because honestly I've been fine with it. It was just...when I heard that song, track number 6, "Ghosts of things to come", I started bawling crying and thought of losing my virginity.

It always makes me think of what I wish had happened. No, don't worry...I don't picture roses and candles and silk sheets and soft music. I don't picture love. Just something different. Something that didn't leave me feeling so empty like everything else. Something with just a little bit of closure, just a few of my questions answered.

You know what I wish I could do? I wish somedays that my first had been like this:
They know my favorite color and they know not to touch my stomach too much because it makes me feel fat. We don't do it on the bed because that's weird to me. The TV isn't on. I can look at their eyes and I'm not afraid because I actually want it. I've known them for a little while, and we're friends. We have things in common and it's not too serious because that's scary. They ask me if it hurts because it's important that they don't tear me. They look at me like I'm a person. And I don't feel like a terrible person during. They don't have a girlfriend or a girlfriend they're hiding from me. I'm not thinking about how ugly I look because I don't look ugly this time. They wear a condom when I ask them to instead of telling me no. I care about this person. I know who they are and they aren't going to just get up and leave. They aren't going to leave me with all of these questions and confusion. They aren't going to harass me on the phone or leave threatening voicemails when I don't pick up. And for once in my life I don't feel so guilty. And I'm okay with it. It's not something I have to get over or suck it up and move on from. I'm really okay with it. Because this person cares about me...and I'm not afraid to care back. I don't want to run away when it gets too serious this time because i'm not afraid of the idea of someone loving a person like me. So I don't run away for the first time in my life.

And I don't regret it.

But this is the real world. And it's going to be okay.

I've been having flashbacks since this morning when I got out of the shower about the hospital. I had honestly forgotten about some things that happened. I'm really glad that I'm in a different place right now. I'm really glad that I am not so easily panicked about food. I really don't need to stress myself out more over yet another little thing that's "no big deal".

I need to trust myself. I don't know if I can just completely let go into the world of impulse and what feels right. I'm used to restriction which was supposedly something that is supposed to lead to strength. It has lead to this little sliver of will that is left. But it will do. Have you noticed that I'm stronger? Have you noticed that I am not wasting my time as much anymore?

I got my ghost in the shell soundtrack (vol. 2) and I'm loving it. Especially "I can't be cool" and "living inside the shell".

Feeling alone is only a passing thing.

I am beautiful. I just don't know it yet.

And the only thing three meals could have done for me today, is help. So it's a good thing.

I am beautiful.

I haven't "had the time" to write lately. To be honest, I haven't wanted to. After my post about Polly I felt the need to top it, to come back and in her honor and after all the strength of what I said, I wanted to come back all healthy and resolved. Better. "Fixed".

Thank you alwayshope for responding to my blog. It's such a nice shock when you realize that people are reading what you're saying. It's such a nice shock to read everyone elses new posts every day and have that little like lifesaver to hold onto out in the storm or whatever. It's cheesy, but it makes you realize you're not alone. Which is the one thing I always struggled with, I used this disease to isolate myself until I only cared about me. Or maybe it was...until the only thing I cared about was not caring about me.

Anyway, some unhealthy habits coming back into play. Two days of stress equaled two days of not too bad but still very bad behavior on my part period. That's my problem, is that even though I've found plenty of other outlets for stress and anxiety (a.k.a belly dancing, writing, talking) that old comfort blanket always is lurking there in the corner waiting for me to pick it up and hold onto it like a little shaking girl.

There was the depression. Before last night I didn't sleep for around 56 hours except for a few naps here and there that were forced or were to the point of me falling asleep at random, even while hanging out with a friend who luckily was really understanding about it.

The depression...the coldness, you know? The kind that convinces you that you are alone despite what all logic tells you. It makes you not want to talk about it even if you know it will help. It makes you not want to go blog about it because you know it will help. And you just feel so deep into it that nothing feels good, not even the idea of taking it away feels good. You just want to sit and wallow and wait for something to take you away.

So I didn't eat anything one day, until that night I went onto my myspace and saw the blog I posted about Polly. My heart broke all over again and I started feeling so hurt because of the way I was disregarding my own preaching, ignoring something I firmly believe in.

But that lead to a panic attack, me feeling so much pressure to make it right. I felt like people in my life who look up to me would be so let down if I didn't stay healthy. I felt like I had to live up to my blogs and be the perfect healthy person...just how I used to feel on "thinspo" sites that I needed to be the "perfect anorexic". It's the same unhealthy thought process scooping me up again.

So in all that pressure of the moment I just attacked the kitchen and ate out of stress and fear and confusion. And then, just as I had shoved in the feelings through food, I threw them back up into the toilet and purged. I remember I was ashamed while it was happening. The first thing that came to my mind was Ceslie...then Brandon...then Ben. I imagined them right there with me, standing there in the bathroom watching me puke.

I kept thinking, "They would hate me if they knew the 'real me'. They would hate me if they saw this. The would be so disgusted because I can't control myself. I can't do anything right." And that's not true. And if it were, I don't need friends like that. I know that at least Ceslie and Brandon would help me, they accept me and my faults. I know that. But somehow the sick part of me also knows that uses it to scare myself. Because they stand for the part of me that is living a healthy, open lifestyle. They are people I talk to when I have problems (if I find the courage to talk in real life at all about this.) So the part of me that thinks unhealthily uses that information to scare me, to convince me the "real me" (which is so not the real me) is repulsive to them. So that I can isolate myself again. So that there will be less reason to pull out of this, and more to let it engulf me again.

The human mind is a complex, sometimes scary thing. Especially when you own one. I could be all wrong about this, but it feels better to write about it and try to dissect it and figure out what went wrong. Obviously, I got over and picked myself up and I'm here.

Anyway, I was really relieved to read other people's stuff again when I got back on and to see you guys were all still here and fighting. I just wanted to say I'm still here too. I'm not perfect, but I'm still alive and I'm trying.