So I met with the new therapist today. He's a nice guy. But that's all I can say for him. The thing is, a nice guy is not going to be good enough. He met with my mom one on one after talking with me for almost an hour, and I know I shouldn't expect much on the first meeting but something he said to her urked me.

She came out happy, but my mom told me that she told him she was worried about my eating and I had some issues but she didn't know how to classify them. She says he told her that it's just my anxiety and that we're going to work on that and get to the eating thing later. What he doesn't understand is that the "eating thing" is all I know right now. That is my life. I'm sorry to say it, but that's why I got help again in the first place, is the eating. I guess I can't say it's his fault. If I want someone to treat me for anorexia then I have to come right out and say, "Hey, I'm anorexic and I need help." But I can't say that. I'm not even totally sure if I have a problem. I mean, that's stupid, of course I do. But I don't know...I almost feel like this is something maybe I can do on my own?

Another thing, with my experience with doctors, I know that they're not exactly usually sensitive to the subject of eating disorders. I didn't expect any huge ordeal, and in a way I'm relieved. I'm not in trouble. No one's going to lock me up and obviously, I'm not dying. In a sick way, that appeals to the sick part of me, I'm almost hurt that I don't look thin enough for when my mom said I had eating problems for him to tell me it was nothing. Maybe, I can't help but wonder, if I weighed a lot less, he would look at me after my mom said that and say, "this girl needs help." But I'm just rambling, I really don't know.

Basically, he told me about how I crave attention and I overthink things and bla bla bla. He's actually really cool. But right now I can already feel my "outsider's persona" showing up when I talk to him. It's not me talking. It's someone who I want to be, someone healthy with a good head on her shoulders. Someone who I am not. I feel like I ruined my chance for myself, and I feel even worse wondering if I even need to get help. Maybe I'm just being a brat. But I can't stop so this must be a problem, I mean, I have a problem, right? It's almost like I need someone to point that out for me because it's not enough for just me to wonder about it.

I don't know, maybe my only problem is my anxiety attacks. But I'm not sure, I mean...why would I have this blog in the first place if that was my only problem.