Aug 23, 2009

Is this real life?

August 18: 1241pm

I mean, what the fuck am I doing with myself? Absolutely nothing. Nothing. I dont really know if I am ready for this hole college deal. Actually, I dont really know if I am ready for this hole Life deal. I used to feel like I knew what I wanted and what I was doing and whatever. Now, I am just sad. Where in the world did this sadness come from. Other than the extreme weight gain and immense amount of change currently taking place. Not to mention the seeming loss of everyone around me that I love. I feel isolated and distant and unconnected from those people, from that world, from myself.

I dont want to go to college feeling like an extreme fuck up, or socially retarded youth who doesnt have the slightest idea about herself or the world in which she craves to form around her. That doesnt even make sense.

Right now, all I want is out and away. From here. But mostly from myself. I spend the majority of the morning screwing around on the computer wallowing in my own self pity. Around 230 my cell phone rang and it was Dr. Ryals. He asked what was wrong and I was confused. He said Mom was really worried and asked if I had talked to her today. ... Which I had not. So..

Last night, actually yesterday in general, just sucked. In fact, the past few days have just not sat well with me. Anyways, yesterday was particularly difficult. And since my eating disorder has been failing as of late, I resorted to older versions of my self destructive behavior. Rebecca walked in my room and sat down on the floor and first saw the razorblade then my arm. After that I decided to leave the house for a while because... I get a bit stir crazy.

Anyways, Back to Dr. Ryals. Apparently Rebecca went and told mom, mom emailed Dr. Ryals, Dr. Ryals called me, confused me, questioned me, increased my medication faster, and scheduled another appointment next week. I'm not exactly sure what to think about all of this. At first I was sad and angry. Then I was like what the? ... It was as scratch, forreal. Like, not worth making any deal about. And now, I just dont give. Atall. Moved on.

And speaking of moving on, this is something I desperately need to work on. Moving on from things in the past, moving on from upsets in the present, and even moving on from worrying about things that have yet to happen. I realized lately that I worry entirely too much. Mostly about things that are completely out of my control. And the things that I worry about that I do have control over, I never do anything about because I waste my time and energy on worry. Worrying instead of actually fixing or doing something about the issue. How lame.

While I am aware of this lack of productivity in the worrying department, I still fail to do anything. Like today for example, I felt like shiiiit. And I do know ways to fix it. Or at least to try. Honestly, just getting out of the house, being around other human beings, I already feel better. And this could have been taken care of hours ago. Instead, I sulked. I judged myself and my actions. Boo for that. I need to start a list of things to work on to "better" myself.

1. Work on ENJOYING food. Take the time to prepare, sit down, focus and nourish.

2. Work on changing negative thoughts. Specifically judgement of actions and body. Judgements of food, clothing, personality. If unable to change thought, stop thinking about it. It does no good.

3. Stop worrying so damn much. Worry about the things that I can actually help. Things such as my school work, my friends who I chose to surround myself with, how I treat my body. Stop worrying about things like the number on the scale, what I am wearing or how much weight I have gained. Still, it is doing no good.

Well, I am tired of writing about myself. I like this whole writing thing though. As I understand it, it is more cathartic (P.S. i had to look up the definition of cathartic) to use a pen and paper. But, I enjoy the way typing feels. It is faster and easier to get out what is in your head that with pen and papier.

Speaking of papier. or paper as Americans call it, I am really actually looking forward to my French Deux. I'm looking forward to using my brain for something other than worrying, self-analyzing and watching small children.

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