Dear 2007,
I can't believe you're leaving. We've been through a lot together, you and I. You really put me through a lot of shit during our time together. Thinking back, it's hard to think of good stuff you've done for me. Thanks for giving me the time spent with all my friends. I really appreciate that. Thank you for bringing Erica, Alyssa, Cassie, and many more amazing people from California into my life. Thanks for making Tijiuana 20 minutes away from where I live; that's a plus. But I must say, some of the things you've given me I plan to give away when I meet your friend 2008. Yep, I'm an Indian giver. You caught me!!
Things You Won't Catch Me Doing or Having (Fingers Crossed) in 2008:
1. Ed. Obviously. He may be there the first couple days of the new year, but in mind only. Not action.
2. My pessimism. You may not believe this, but I'm actually a pretty happy person. Usually I can find the silver lining to crappy situations. It's just the situations I've been in as of late have been kind of foggy and not allowing for a lot of silver line-spottage.
3. A poor body image. Yes, this one takes people their entire lives to get over. But I'll at least start working on it. Or try to.
So we got two new people today. Laura and Barbara. Barb, by the way, is 47 years old. Um. Yeah. It's very weird. Laura's kind of chatty, but that's okay. She's sweet. She started freaking out today about the food intake and started to cry and Laurie says "Oh, talk to Angie and Nicola about it; they've been there." Um...what?!?! I'M supposed to make this girl feel better?? So I kind of babbled, saying "It gets better, believe me. I know you don't think that now, but you will. I was in your exact same spot, and when I was told 'It gets better', I thought 'Maybe for you, but not for me.' But it does. You get used to it." She said it made her feel better, but I have my doubts.
Speaking of doubts, I'm doubting everything. Every goddamn thing. This disorder has really fucked up everything. Today was grocery shopping day, and I thought that I was going. So, after the gym and lunch (yeah, I couldn't shower after getting back from the gym because of lunch, and then I had to wait ANOTHER hour before I could go upstairs to take the aforementioned shower) I took like the fastest shower EVER, and actually got dressed. Jeans, t-shirt, everything. And I freaked out. Because my clothes fit, but it seemed like they were tighter. Maybe it's Ed. Maybe it's just in my head. But I seriously almost started to cry. I went downstairs, found out I was, in fact, NOT going to the store, and just sat at the table by Nicola. She knew right away that something was wrong. Props, Nicola. You're quite intuitive. We talked about it for a while. "It" meaning EVERYTHING. Every fucked up thing that goes through our minds. And she said something that was so true that I guess I've always thought but never really put into anything concrete:
"You want the mental recovery, but not the physical recovery."
THAT IS SO TRUE!!! I want my mind to be free of this burden, this disease, these haunting thoughts. But I want that just as much as I want to stay thin. I was looking at old pictures last night (including ones from last New Year's...huh. Never thought I'd be here in a year), and I'm sorry, but I hated the way I fucking looked. It was weird. In every picture, instead of thinking "Oh, that was a fun day!" or something, I identified it all by what size I was at the time.
Last New Year's? 8.
Sweetheart's? 7.
My trip to San Diego in March? 6.
Julie's party? 4.
Senior Dinner Dance? 2.
State Fair? 0.
Day I moved into SDSU? 00.
I just....I don't know. I feel damned if I do, damned if I don't. Nicola also said to me today, "What is the worst that could happen if we accept ourselves and the way we look?"
The answer? Nothing. NOTHING. NOTHING bad could happen, because even if someone else didn't like the way I looked, I would, and that's what matters. But getting to that point is so fucking hard that right now, it feels impossible.
But now is a time of new beginnings. So instead of just writing about what I WON'T do next year, let's discuss some things I WILL do:
1. Take care of myself. Before anything else, right now I need to focus on my health and getting better.
2. Embrace and accept my flaws. I have them now and always will. Nothing can change that.
3. Not be so judgemental of others and myself. Because seriously, I'm a BITCH in my head a lot of the time. I don't want to be that way.
4. Keep going to therapy. It helps. Mucho.
5. Try to find the good in seemingly hopeless situations.
I'm halfway done with my stay here at HG. I can't believe it. Things have changed, things haven't. I've progressed, yet I've stood still. But I'm still going. And still trying. Trying so fucking hard that I cry myself to sleep. That I isolate myself because I can't stand to be around others at the moment. So hard that lately, I'm the last one to finish my food at every meal. Seriously. Last week, I told the dietitian that I felt I was eating to fast, so she suggested for one of my goals I should try to eat slower. About 20 minutes each meal. And it's more like I use the full 30 minutes to eat. Everyone's done before me. And for some reason, that gives me a sick sense of pleasure. Like "Ha! Even if I have to eat this shit, eating this slowly shows how much I DON'T want it, and therefore that makes me thinner than you." Oh, Ed, shut the fuck up. And I just don't have the will to eat either. Today, as I was in the middle of my apple-and-cottage cheese combo (hey, when you need a fruit and dairy for EVERY meal, you think of some weird combinations), I just paused, put my spoon down, and sighed. I was like "I can't do this. I literally have no will or motivation to eat."
Going back into Ed would be so easy. It sounds crazy, but when your mind is in that place, you feel safe. And in control. And numb. You don't have to feel the shit that's going on around you. You distract yourself by counting calories and fat grams, by calculating how much exercise you need to do to burn off that broccoli and more so you lose weight faster. You do body checks in the mirror to make sure your arm doesn't look bigger and from the side you look thin and that your thighs don't touch and that you can still fit your hand around your wrist. You want you collar bone to stick out, your legs to look like twigs, and to have the overall emaciated look. To hear someone say "You're too skinny" or "Do you have an eating disorder?" causes you satisfaction and a feeling of accomplishment. To hear "You look healthy!" causes you to give a response of "Fuck you!"
I really hope, that in 365 days, no matter what I weigh, how I look, what size I wear, I can read this and think "What the FUCK was I thinking?" I'm hoping next year, if I wrote something like the above paragraph, the words will be of fiction and not fact.
Hello, 2008.
Goodbye, 2007. I won't miss you.
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