Did you know....
that Kellog's corn flakes were invented to stop people from masturbating??
Apparently, back in the old days, people believed that the ham & eggs people were eating for breakfast gave them the urge to masturbate. And since everyone believed that masturbation made you crazy, they felt they needed to figure out a way to prevent it.
Good old J.H. Kellog. Always ahead of his time.
Ahhh...the wonders of online schooling. Let me tell you, I LOVE LOVE LOVE! Human Sexuality. It is seriously SO interesting. The first lecture of the course was a power point with audio, and as I was watching it, people from the house gathered around me to WATCH because of the things they were hearing, such as the term "clitdectomy" (ouch).
So anyways, I need to drop a class since I got into Human Sexuality. I WISH it could be Financial Accounting, but I would be short a credit if I did that. Fuck you, health insurance.
I'm starting to semi-approve of my appearance now. Not accept it...no, no. In therapy, we learned APPROVAL DOES NOT! EQUAL ACCEPTANCE. But I'm sick of this. I SURRENDER!!!
I feel like I've been cheating at this whole recovery thing. I was fine with it, feeling good, but only if I still fit in my clothes. If I could just have that, everything would be fine. Go Recovery!! But I kind of had a reality check when meeting with the dietitian yesterday:
"Your body is still not functioning properly. Maybe you'll need to go up a size and gain weight for that to happen."
I was PISSED. And I started feeling sick and dizzy and just so EXHAUSTED of all this shit. I just DON'T WANT TO CARE ANYMORE! Seriously, the things I do are ridiculous. Even to me. I won't try something on if it's not extra small. I think "I don't even want to THINK about a small size fitting me. It's too big." I won't try on any pants bigger than a 00. I have LIMITED what I can buy because of this disorder, so you KNOW it's serious.
The dietitian asked me yesterday: "What would you do if you gained some weight? Went up to a size 0?"
Okay, first of all? A few years ago, I never EVER would have thought I'd be hearing the phrase "WHAT IF YOU WENT UP TO A SIZE 0?" I honestly didn't think it was physically possible for someone who was my size to get down to what I am now. You would think it just wouldn't happen.
I was looking at old pictures yesterday while everyone was out at expressive arts therapy (which, yes, I fucking hate, but I would have gone to if I didn't need to take a shower before going out), and I didn't get upset while looking at these pictures. I started feeling nostalgic, but in a good way. It was weird to look at those pictures and think "I was so happy there. And I was two sizes bigger than I am now," or whatever the case was. I even showed Aimee some of the pictures when she got home, and she asked "Were you in your eating disorder when these were taken?" And mind you, these pictures were taken about 6 months ago. And the difference in my appearance is so completely BLATANT it's ridiculous. Even with all this proper nutrition I'm getting now, I still feel like I look exhausted and on narcotics. Uck. Whatever.
I've been eating all of my "challenge" foods that I've discussed with the dietitian. The bagel with peanut butter, left overs, toast for a snack, etc. My torture this week? Mac and cheese and waffles. Not together, obviously. They went grocery shopping today, and I asked Megan "Can you get shaped mac and cheese, if possible? The shapes always taste better." She looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe it's a Wisconsin thing.
Today in group, our therapist suggested we all say something to another person if we wanted to thank them for something, compliment them, or acknowledge their progress in some way. It was weird...I felt like I had SO MUCH to say to everyone. It was like those celebrities who win Academy Awards and say "I want to thank SOOO many people!" and I always thought "Oh, shut the fuck up. You're just saying that." But it was how I felt.
I admire Laura for finally expressing anger and not constantly pleasing people.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE! living with Barb because she makes me laugh harder than almost anyone I've ever met.
I'm in awe that Aimee is saying "Fuck it" to her clothes not fitting and is excited to go shopping for bigger sizes.
Aimee and I got further on our "Day in the Life of a Harmony Grover!" project today. We took pictures before yoga, combining yoga poses with stuff we learned in boxing yesterday. We deemed it "Boga" and/or "Yoxing". I sincerely hope no one EVER sees these pictures. I'm wearing NO make up and I hadn't touched my hair since waking up. I'm not the most attractive gal in the mornings.
Speaking of boxing, the dietitian came to the house yesterday to give us a lesson. Let me just say, I think I have a pretty high tolerance for embarrassment. I mean, I shared the Marines story to our entire Comm class. That in itself is a huge feat. But during boxing, I felt like SUCH a douche. Ugh. There's nothing like standing in a circle of girls with eating disorders and having someone shout "RIGHT JAB! LEFT JAB! UPPER CUT!" Aimee and I were partners and when we had to take turns demonstrating what we learned, we called each other derogatory terms to make things more interesting. We wound up just laughing and not really accomplishing anything.
Speaking of accomplishment, I feel as if I have changed SO MUCH since coming here. Honestly, I don't want to think about where I would be if I hadn't have come to the HG. The thought of leaving here or of anyone else leaving (Laura!! On MY BIRTHDAY!!! 
makes me so incredibly sad. It's like the end of a school year, when you know you aren't going to see certain people for a long, long time. But Aimee lives in Orange County, close to my parents, so we want to get together whenever I'm over there.
I picked up my books for my classes today. And got Starbucks on the way there. I was like "Wow. This is what normal people do!" And I didn't really feel anxious about being out alone or have any urges or ANYTHING. It was quite liberating, I must say. I do have to be careful on the freeway, however. Dying in a fiery car crash because I was trying to switch what Britney cd I was listening to is NOT the way that I want to go.
In our ED 101 class yesterday (yes, it's an actually "class" type setting), we learned that people with eating disorders have trouble making decisions. And that we have problems with the term "average". This is so, so true. I always think "If I'm gonna be skinny, I'm going to be the SKINNEST PERSON EVER. I will wear the SMALLEST size, I will be gaunt, malnourished, and find it complimentary when people tell me I look like I have an eating disorder." I think part of it may be that I feel inadequete in a lot of areas. When I'm good at something, I like to stick with it and do it hardcore. And I'm good at dieting. I'm good at being thin. Or at least, I was.
But there's part of me--the real me--my "authentic self" (therapy term!)--that is screaming out "AVERAGE!!! I WANT TO BE AVERAGE!" Of course, I want to succeed at things and be the best, but as a person? I just want to be like everybody else. Maybe that's not exactly a good thing, but I'm afraid to be anything else right now. I don't know if I could handle being extremely successful or UNsuccessful in any area of my life right now. I need time to relax, to be a fucked up near-college drop out with questionable direction in life.
Aimee suggested I be patient with myself. This was after saying I was scared that after leaving HG, people around me will get frustrated or annoyed with me when I'm struggling, since I feel that everyone will expect me to be "fixed". I said I wanted patience from others, and Aimee said that I should also be patient and gentle with myself. Recovery takes time, and even here, I have days that I feel are "semi-relapses" in the sense that I KNOW the caloric content of certain things and that's why I choose them.
Yesterday, I had something for lunch that kind of stressed me out. But I didn't want to let it control me, so I thought "Fuck it!" and started preparing it before I could change my mind. That's also what I did with the whole bagel thing. If I can just get to it before Ed stops me, I can most likely do it. But the whole waffle for breakfast thing? I don't know. I'm honestly a cereal type of gal.
I plan on spending the rest of my night finishing some of my sex homework. Tee hee. Be jealous. You all wish you could spend your Friday nights like I do.
Now back to the clidectomy....
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