Why I Only Played the Clarinet for 3 Weeks in 5th Grade: Day 25

I have never been so irritated in my life as I was today during expressive arts therapy.

The chosen activity for the day? Sitting in a circle with homemade musical instruments and taking turns playing them. Everything was going okay (weird, but okay), until Laura busted out the cowbell. It was all down hill from there.

Speaking of Laura, she is such an amazing person. Sometimes when I'm feeling like shit or just pissed off, hearing her laugh and joke around just make me feel so much better. The fact that she has the ability to keep a happy disposition when going through all of this is so inspiring to me. Of course we all have bad days, but Laura somehow seems to see the good in most things. I hope to be like her one day.

I really, really love the people here. It's amazing. Everyone is just so sweet and understanding and not put off by my random emotional attacks. We all have them, though, so I guess it's not exactly out of the ordinary.

So right before I passed out last night (which was at like 10:30--I know I'm a gangsta, you don't need to tell me) I was thinking about the transition and I felt really excited. I thought "A week from tonight, my first day of freedom will be coming!! Yayayayayayay!" Then, out of nowhere, I had like this panic attack and thought "OH SHIT! I'm not ready for this!!!"

I am so, so, so, so scared. The nutritionist wants me to stick to the meal plan, which I will try my hardest to do. She said she's really glad I'm staying, since "your body is still depleted of nutrients. You need this food to survive. Your body still isn't fully functioning properly." Well, goddamn. How long is it going to take??

I guess I don't really allow myself to think about just how badly I fucked up my body during this ordeal. I mean, I've realized some things were....ahem, missing....and I knew it was bad, but I thought "Eh. Oh well. I don't have to worry about being fat, so it's worth it."

I'm having more rational thoughts lately. I'll think "Fat....whatever. I won't get fat." and then all of a sudden BOOM! I'm back to freaking out about it.

I scheduled an extra appointment with my therapist for tomorrow. We usually meet once a week, but I felt like I needed therapy to the EXTREME! before I decided to do the transitional thing, so we scheduled an extra session. Which, now, I'm pissed about (or maybe it's Ed?), because that means I can't go to the gym tomorrow. And tomorrow night= 2 slices of nasty, greasy pizza.

Eew. I want to shower just thinking about it.

Today at breakfast we went around the table and said what we were grateful for. I tell you, started off the day getting all emotional is just too trying. Lori said "I'm very grateful for all of you ladies here. This is, by far, the most important thing I have ever done in my life and I am so lucky to be able to know all of you." Well, goddamn. That just went straight to my heart.

What am I grateful for?

I am extremely grateful for coming here. I know that the real work begins once I leave and that I'll never be 100% "recovered", but I honestly don't know where I would be right now had I not gone into treatment. Stuck in Anaheim, isolated and alone and using my eating disorder for comfort? Either that or in Wisconsin, trying so hard to enjoy myself with the people I haven't seen in months but silently suffering in the throes of Ed.

Thinking of Wisconsin really, really affects me. I can hardly stand it. Especially my last few days there. Just remembering how I felt--that my life was ending and that the total unknown was looming on the horizon and how STUPID AND NAIVE I was to think the things I was thinking--I can't handle that right now. Honestly, it's one of the biggest triggers for my eating disorder. If I think about that time in my life, I literally feel like there's a heavy object pushing down on my chest and I can't breathe.

My mom packed some stuff of mine into my trunk before coming here, and the other night I went out to get some of it and found my yearbooks from junior and senior year. Even though they're only 1-2 years old, I honestly have trouble remembering some of those times. SO MUCH has changed, I am such a different person than that girl in those pictures, that I felt like I was looking at someone else's yearbook. A stranger whom I've never met. And it's weird. If I was looking at those pictures with one of my friends, I could say "Oh, yeah, I was fat back then." But when staff members or other girls here were looking at the pictures, I obviously couldn't say that. But I knew what they were thinking. That, "Damn, this girl has just basically killed herself in the past year and a half." The difference in my appearance is so incredibly apparent that I felt embarrassed. Well, at least I know my methods were quick. And effective.

I remember talking to a friend a while ago and mentioning how I used to be fat. She said "You were never fat; you were pleasantly plump."

Ouch. When I think of things like that, I think "Well, why is what I'm doing so wrong?? Why is looking good so bad?"

And I just feel like I can't have it both ways. I can't do "Zebra Think", as Maira calls it. I see things in either black or white, never together.

I rationalize everything. I look at my nutritionist and think "Damn, she looks amazing! She's toned and not sickly skinny and just looks great! She's not starving herself. I should be healthy." Then the little voice in my head says "She's tall; she can carry extra weight and muscle. If you pack any on, you'll be extremely fat."

I must say, as apprehensive as I am about transitioning, I am also so, so excited. I can't wait to see Erica and Alyssa and everybody else and just get out there and experience new things and I'm even semi, quasi, pseudo excited about starting school. I mean, art history?? If you can't get out of it, you may as well enjoy just saying "Oh, I have to go. I'm late for art history."

Tonight is Target night. It's sad how exciting Thursday nights are for me. Seriously. I make lists. I wake up in a good mood. Because Target is looming on the horizon for me. Hey, when you've been trapped in a recovery center for eating disorders for 3 weeks and 4 days, YOU would get excited about a 2-story Target that has a special escalator just for shopping carts.

Trust me.