I’m still feeling super stressed. I spent a good forty-five minutes with a reference librarian on Wednesday and still couldn’t find much for my English research paper, the first ten pages of which are due on Monday. I’m completely freaking out. I don’t know how on earth I’m going to be able to do it. Since having the first ten pages due in draft form on Monday is so we can go over what we’ve done in class together and the professor isn’t collecting them or grading them or anything I thought I’d skip the class and not do it, but she said this week that she really wants everyone to come. Plus, I’ve already missed one class. Cue freak out!

I have to finish polishing up my personal statement for graduate school so I can send it to my advisor so she can write my recommendation. My other two recommenders have already written theirs, so that’s good. I’m sending out my first application next weekend and the rest will be sent out by the end of the month. I’m so nervous about this whole thing. Who am I to think that I can be a writer? I’m not going to get in anywhere, and I’ll have wasted a ton of money on this whole process.

I took the GREs yesterday, and I didn’t do very well, not that that comes as a surprise or anything. I really didn’t study at all. I think I did well on the writing, but I won’t find out that score for another two weeks. I did not do well on the verbal or math, though. I was expecting to do poorly on the math because I haven’t taken a math class in five years, but I had thought that I would do a little better on the verbal. Oh, well. Thankfully I’m only sending out GRE scores to three of the twelve schools I’m applying to (the others don’t require them), and they don’t count for very much. Hopefully I’ll never have to take another standardized test in my life.

I’m officially off Abilify and have been for a couple of days. I don’t really feel any different, so that’s good. I just want to stop gaining weight and to hopefully lose some weight. I hate being this fat.

In addition to being really stressed, I’m very tired. I went to bed at 9:00 last night and slept until 1:30 today; that’s sixteen-and-a-half hours, and the sad thing is that that’s not unusual for me at all. I wish I didn’t feel the need to sleep so much, because then I would be able to get a lot more work done and probably wouldn’t be so stressed all of the time.

I guess I should finish up my personal statement and then get working on my research paper, but I really just want to read and write fanfiction. I’m in an AAML mood. Oh, well.

I feel like crap, both physically and emotionally. I’m having a certain strange pain again, one I get in my belly that often radiates to my sides, back, and chest. It’s horrible. I wonder if it’s from my reflux; it has been acting up a bit lately. Maybe I should go back on an antacid.

My mother is, once again, angry with me. I told her that I’ve decided to come off of the Abilify. Now she keeps sending me all of these text messages saying that she won’t support me being in graduate school and that I’m taking all of these steps backwards and that I’m not listening to my team and all sorts of awful stuff. I don’t see what the huge deal about coming off of this medication is. I’ve come off of so many medications in the past. I know she says that she and my father can see a difference, but how does she know it’s because of the Abilify? Besides, I don’t feel any different.

I feel so guilty. The last thing I want is for her to be angry with me. I hate when this happens. I don’t want to make anyone upset, but I know that’s what I’m doing. I’m such a terrible person. Still, part of me doesn’t see what’s so bad about what I’m doing. I’m only trying to keep myself from becoming more miserable, from gaining more weight than I need to. What’s the harm in that?

I don’t even know what to do anymore. I want to be a good daughter. I don’t want to upset anyone or to make anyone angry or worried. At the same time, though, I have to ask, “What about me?” What about how I feel? How is gaining more weight going to make me feel?

I’m reading this book for my psych class called The Quiet Room by Lori Schiller. It’s a memoir about a woman who struggled with schizophrenia, but other people write chapters of the book, too, including the woman’s family members. You can really for her parents and brothers. Reading it makes me think about all of the ways I’ve hurt my family. I feel so guilty.

Well, since my stomach is killing me I suppose I’ll go to bed.

God, I am so stressed. I did very little work over the break, and I’m going to pay for it dearly. I have to have written at least ten pages of my fifteen to twenty page research paper for next Monday, and I haven’t written anything or even finished reading the book I’m primarily writing about. I really wish the professor hadn’t made the first ten pages due then. I understand the rationale behind it and all, because she doesn’t want us to all have to do it at the last minute, but I’ll have so much more time after this week to do it; this week, though, I have very little time.

I’m taking the GREs on Thursday. I haven’t studied since this summer when I was at McLean, and it’s not like I did a lot of studying then. I’m so going to fail them. I’m not the best at standardized tests. (I did pretty well on the SATs, although I probably should have done better based on the type of grades I got in high school.) I suppose I could try to cram during the next few days, but I don’t think that will do me any good at all. Oh, well. Thankfully MFA programs don’t consider the GREs too much; most of the programs I’m applying to don’t even require them.

I feel like I’ve lost all of my confidence as a writer. My advisor never says nice things, and I keep getting rejected from literary magazines. What was I thinking, believing that I could get into an MFA program? It’ll never happen. They’re just so selective, and I’m just so untalented. I should have applied to social work programs instead.

Oh, well. It’s too late to switch now. Two of my recommenders have written their letters, so I just have to finish polishing my statement of purpose and get my third recommender to write her letters and then I can start sending applications out. I’ll be so glad when I’m done with this whole process.

I’m really feeling pretty awful tonight, and I can’t quite figure out why. I think it must be the stress of the upcoming weeks. I’m praying that it’s not the fact that I’m coming off the Abilify. I don’t think it is, though. I only have to take it three more times at the halved dose and then I’ll be off of it completely. I’m so nervous. When my mother finds out that I’m off it she’s going to flip out. That’s not the main reason I’m nervous, though. I’m really nervous that I won’t be able to lose weight even off of the Abilify. What if it’s not the Abilify that’s making me fat? What if it’s something else? Oh, God, I can’t even stand the thought. I cannot be stuck in this body forever.

I just want to lose weight; is that too much to ask? Everywhere I turn I read things about people losing weight, and I want to be one of them. I’m really praying that once I’m off the Abilify completely I’ll be able to. I’ve been eating around 800 or 900 calories a day, as per order of the nutritionist. I didn’t see the point of eating 200 to 400 calories a day if I couldn’t lose weight doing so. Once I’m off the Abilify, though, I may go back to doing that to ensure that I’ll lose weight. I want to get to a very low weight by the end of the school year; I’m shooting for between 85 and 95 pounds…

…which is utterly ridiculous. God, why am I doing this to myself? I know what I looked like when I was that low before, and it wasn’t good. I know what I felt like when I was that low before, and it wasn’t good (well, not that I feel good now). Why do I want to jeopardize my chances at graduate school even further and bring the currently good relationships I have with my parents back down into the pit? I’m not sure I can even explain it. I want to be sick. As pathetic as it is, I want to be in the hospital. It’s not just because I like hospitals, though; it’s also because I know I need help, and the only way to get the help I need is to be in the hospital, and the only way to be in the hospital is to lose weight.

Why do I keep going back to this crap, year after year? Why do I torture myself? Why do I routinely engage in self-destructive behaviors? Why do I even want to engage in self-destructive behaviors?

I’ve wasted so many years of my life on this, but I still feel like I’m not through yet. I still feel like there’s more I need to do. I’ve never reached my goal weight. I’ve never been skinny enough or sick enough. That’s BS, but I can’t help it, it seems.

Well, that’s the story. I wish I could be more positive about all this, but tonight I’m just not in the mood. I’ll probably end up cutting just to get rid of some of the stress, tension, and bad feelings.

First of all, I hope everyone had a good holiday, and I mean that especially for those of you who struggle with eating issues (although I certainly wish everyone on here a happy holiday regardless of whether or not you fit that category!).

I’m having a bit of a hard time. Things are better with my mother, although I suppose they won’t be when she finds out that I’m coming off my Abilify. (She told me to reconsider, and I think she believes I’m still reconsidering.) I started tapering off it yesterday and will be off it completely in less than a week. I know this is going to sound extremely weird given how eager I’ve been to get off the stupid drug, but I have very mixed feelings about it right now. Let me explain.

I do feel like I have to come off of Abilify—I really do—because I simply cannot continue gaining weight, and there’s a good chance that I will keep gaining if I stay on it. I know someone who gained over sixty pounds on Paxil and only stopped gaining once she got off it, so it’s not like you gain a certain amount and then stop gaining on these drugs. I just don’t think I can tolerate more weight gain, and, frankly, it’s not necessary at all. I’m fifteen pounds above my set point, and if I keep gaining I’ll just become overweight, and what good will that do? Going off Abilify has really become a necessity at this point because I’ll just continue to gain weight.

There’s more to it than that, though. In the two years I’ve been on Abilify I have scarcely lost a pound despite restricting mightily (I’m talking between 200 and 400 calories at times), which means my inability to lose weight has probably been caused by that darn drug. That means that once I get off it I’ll likely be able to lose weight. Now, losing a good ten or fifteen pounds wouldn’t hurt at this point (and would probably do my self-esteem a world of good and make me a lot more comfortable and less disgusted with my body), but even I can see the danger in losing fifteen pounds. It’s not that losing fifteen pounds is dangerous; it’s that I very well may not be able to stop. The wheels in my head keep turning. At first it was, “I’ll lose fifteen pounds and get back down to my set point,” which quickly became “I’ll just get down to 100 pounds,” which then became “I’ll lose as much as possible by the end of the school year and see if I can beat my low weight.” That scares me.

To be honest, the allure of losing weight is just so strong. I keep looking at pictures of sick friends on Facebook and pictures of myself when I was sick, and I want that again. I miss that. Yes, I know I look better now (and would probably look my best at my set point if I could just stop there), but I miss the feelings that came with looking that way, the feelings of mastery and control and success and achievement and the excitement that came along with every pound dropped. I hate to admit this, but I miss being admitted to hospitals and yearn to have that again. When I think about losing weight and getting sick I get excited.

Then, of course, there’s the other side of the coin, and I mean the side of the coin that has absolutely nothing to do with weight. What if the Abilify really is helping me? My mother insists that she and my father can see a real change in my demeanor and personality, meaning that the combination of drugs I’m taking might be helping. Personally, I don’t see it at all, but even my therapist has said that I’m much more open and willing to take about my feelings than I was even a year or two ago and that it seems like I’ve “opened a little door and let her in a little…more than ever.” What if I feel worse once I get off the Abilify? That’s a scary thought.

My decision has been made and I am going off the Abilify because I cannot gain more weight, but I’m still feeling really scared. I’m not scared of being emaciated or being forced into the hospital, but I am scared that things will get rough at home. When I’m actively losing weight and restricting things are just so awful there; it’s hard to be with my parents, especially my mother, because they’re so upset. My mother won’t even speak to me when I’m really sick because she literally can’t hold a normal conversation with me because she’s so worried. I don’t want to return to that.

I also don’t want to jeopardize my chances at graduate school. If I’m too sick I know I won’t be able to go. The odds are I won’t be going anyway, but if some miracle happens and I am accepted and able to afford it, well, then I want to be able to go.

The short of it is that I’m just scared, I guess. I’m scared of getting sicker, but I’m also scared of getting better. My therapist and I talked a lot about the latter yesterday. She reminded me that if I did get better I could still go to therapy and that even if I felt like I didn’t need therapy anymore we could still keep in touch, but I don’t know if I believe it. I’m just so scared right now.

Things aren’t going so well in the academic realm of life, either. Any confidence I had in my writing has disappeared thanks to my advisor. She just isn’t encouraging in the least bit. She never says “good job” or “I like this;” she just critiques and critiques. Don’t get me wrong, because I want her to critique my work (that’s why I’m working with her after all), but she could add something nice to the mix. She liked one of the pieces I wrote, so it’s not like she’s incapable of giving compliments. I feel like I must be the worst writer in the world. I don’t even want to write this week’s piece because I know it’ll just get torn apart. I’m just feeling so down about it.

I was able to get the book I need for my research paper from the Tufts library thanks to my sister (she goes to school there), so that makes things a little easier. I’m taking the GREs in a week, though, and I haven’t studied at all since the summer. I’m really nervous.

I guess that’s it. It looks like I’m at a big crossroads right now and what I do next could very much influence the next couple of years of my life. No pressure, though, right?

Well, I had quite the weekend. I went to my friend’s engagement party on Saturday because I’m going to be one of her bridesmaids. I had a pretty good time. It was hard, though, because there was just so much food and I felt obligated to eat. There were appetizers and then the meal and then cake, and I ate some of all of it. It was weird, because I usually don’t eat in front of anyone outside of my family, because I feel like I have to keep up some sort of “ED appearance” and I’m always afraid people will say things like, “Oh, it’s nice to see you’re doing so much better.” Luckily no one said that, but I know they must have been thinking it. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of having people think I’m doing better; maybe it’s because I’m really not doing better. I don’t know.

Afterwards everyone went out to some bar, but I, of course, didn’t go. Sometimes I wish I could do normal things for people my age like drink and go to clubs and dance, but I’m just too afraid to. It’s just so far out of my comfort zone. I was talking with my therapist about this, and she said that I’ve really missed a lot socially the last several years and that I have a lot of catching up to do.

I saw my psychiatrist this weekend and asked to be taken off Abilify. It did not go well. She thought it was a bad idea, and when I told my mother later on in the appointment she completely freaked out. She thinks it’s a horrible idea because I’m “so much better” and because she just knows that it’s not the medication that’s causing my weight gain and my inability to lose weight. Don’t ask me how she knows that, but she claims she does. (By the way, I just read an entry in the depression community here on LJ about someone who went on Abilify and gained a lot of weight.) She’s been mad at me ever since and hasn’t been speaking to me, although she did tell me last night that she’s really upset about this and wants me to rethink it. She says that everyone can see a change in my personality for the better.

I understand my mother’s concerns. She’s afraid I’ll lose a ton of weight and get back to where I was before. Still, what about how I feel? She says that I’m so much better, but I don’t feel better at all. How come I still cut myself and think about food and weight twenty-four-seven and restrict all of the time and think about dying? I don’t feel better at all, but whatever. No one seems to care about how I feel.

Anyway, I am going off of the medication. I’m going to taper down for a week starting on Wednesday and then get off it completely. It’s nice to have some hope, although I’m scared at the same time, not because I think I’ll feel worse off it (like I said, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t do anything), but because I’m afraid my mother’s going to stay angry with me forever. I hate when she acts like this. It’s so uncomfortable and makes me want to cry. Maybe losing a ton of weight won’t be worth it if things with my mother are going to be awful.

Sometimes I wish she would just leave me alone and let me do what I want, but I know if she did that I would feel really hurt and that it’s not what I really want. Cherrie told me this weekend that my mother told her at one point that she would never give up on me and would keep fighting forever if she has to. This makes me feel really guilty for some reason.

Other than that things are OK, I guess. I finally wrote my statement of purpose for graduate school this weekend, although it needs a lot of editing. I’m still really freaking out about the whole grad school thing. I don’t think I’m going to go anywhere, and the fact that I received rejections from three literary magazines in three days doesn’t exactly give me much hope (although, to be fair, getting into literary magazines is, if anything, even harder than getting into MFA programs because you’re completing with established writers). I just fear that it won’t work out no matter how much I want it to.

I didn’t do much work over the weekend. I did manage to do most of my reading for English today, which is good. I haven’t finished my thesis piece for this week, though, and I’m supposed to send it to my advisor by midday on Mondays. I sent her an email asking if I could send it tonight instead, but I haven’t heard back from her. I hope she’s not angry with me. I’m still freaking out about my research paper for English. I don’t know if I’ll be able to have a draft done by the 7^th. The main book I’m using for my paper can’t be taken out of the library, so I can’t work on over Thanksgiving, and the weekend after that I have to come home to take the GREs, so I don’t know when I’m going to get it done.

I should have done work last night, but I spent it reading and writing fanfics. I’m about a third of the way done with the next chapter of “Wonderwall,” so hopefully I’ll be able to upload it over the break.

Well, I guess that’s it. I suppose I’ll go to the library and do some work on my English paper and then head off to class. I’m looking forward to the break.

I hope you all have a good holiday.

shychloe

1) “Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams.”  "Music of the Night" Phantom of the Opera
 

juno_chan

2) “He said you’re really an ugly girl/But I like the way you play.” "These Precious Things" by Tori Amos
 

juno_chan

3) “Sing to me of the song of the stars/Of your galaxy dancing and laughing and laughing again.” "Only Hope" by Swtichfoot/Mandy Moore 

juno_chan

4) “Did I disappoint you?/Or leave a bad taste in your mouth?”

5) “You live in a church/Where you sleep with voodoo dolls.”

6) “It’s a long road/When you face the world alone.”  "Hero" by Mariah Carey

marixoxella

7) “When the night has been too lonely/And the road has been too long.”

8) “Lay me on the ground and fly me in the sky.”

9) “Hey little girl would you like some candy?”

10) “But I think I’ve got the answer/Already know what you’re gonna say.”

11) “So, impossible as it may seem/You’ve got to fight for every dream!”

12) “Nobody said it was easy/No one ever said it would be this hard.” "The Scientist" by Coldplay

marixoxella

13) “He steadied his rifle with his target in the center.”

14) “There’s a laughter on the line/Are you sure you’re there alone?”

15) “The minute you let her under your skin/Then you begin to make it better.”  "Hey Jude" by The Beatles 

marixoxella

16) “Scars are souvenirs you never lose/The past is never far.”

17) “And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me…”  "Let it Be" by The Beatles

marixoxella

18) “I dream of fire/Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire.”

19) “So don’t mind if I fall apart/There’s more room in a broken heart.”

20) “What would you ask if you had just one question?”  "What if God Was One of Us" by Joan Osborne
 

juno_chan

Here I am for my typical Sunday night post. Most of the past few days have been spent freaking out about my weight and about graduate school applications, neither of which is particularly fun. I feel like my writing sample(s) is as polished as it’s going to be (honestly, the only changes I could really make at this time would be pretty major ones, and I’m not sure that that’s wise at this point in the game), but I just can’t seem to write the stupid personal statement/statement of purpose. It’s super short (depending on the school it’s either two or three pages), but I’m having a lot of trouble with it. I’d better come up with something clever soon, because my first application deadline is December 15^th.

I can’t believe I’m applying to twelve schools. I feel bad because the application fees are going to cost a fortune, and I know my parents (who said they’d help me pay for them) are really scrambling to find the money. The schools are just so selective, though. I mean, the least selective ones tend to accept about ten to twenty percent of applicants and the most selective ones usually accept between one and five percent. That’s insane! I’m also going to need funding, too, because my parents said they have no money left to pay for graduate school, so I need to apply to a lot of schools.

I’m still not sure how I feel about the idea of moving away for graduate school. As I said in my last entry my advisor suggested that I apply to Iowa, which has the best writing program in the country. Everyone’s been really supportive and in favor of the idea (well, accept for my mother, who was kind of freaked out by the idea of me moving half-way across the country, but it’s not like she’s going to stop me from applying or anything), but it’s just so far away. It’s not like I’ll get in or anything (although my advisor said she’d talk to her friend who’s on the nonfiction faculty there and one of my other recommenders, who’s a pretty well known writer, went to school there), so I know I shouldn’t be worrying about it, but I can’t help but think about what it would be like. Even if I didn’t go to Iowa I’m still applying to two schools in Virginia, one in Maryland, and one in Pennsylvania, so there’s a good chance I’ll be a ways away from Massachusetts. I’m not sure I’ll feel comfortable being more than a few hours away from home. I’m really close to my parents and a real homebody who doesn’t have many friends, but my hope is that if I moved away I’d make some. I don’t know if that will happen, though, because my track record in terms of making friends is pitiful. I have no friends at my college. I always thought that if I moved away I would get my own apartment, but now I’m thinking that it might be wise to share an apartment with someone (as long as I get my own bedroom , that is!).

I’m taking the GREs Thursday, December 3^rd. I’m so nervous. I just know I’m going to do really poorly on them.

I really, really want this MFA thing to work, but I feel like there are so many factors working against me. It’s my dream, but I have to keep in mind that it just might not happen.

I’m still really struggling with my weight. I’m just so fat now. The thing that upsets me the most, though, is that I can’t lose weight while other people can. I know there are people out there who eat more than I do and who lose weight, and it’s just so unfair. I really hope it’s the Abilify that’s causing this. I’m seeing my psychiatrist in less than a week, and I’m going to tell her that I want off the stupid stuff, and I’m not going to take no for an answer. What if I can’t lose weight once I get off the Abilify, though? I mean, Mary-Kate claims she gained sixty pounds on Paxil and that she’s already lost ten pounds since going off it (and I’m willing to guess she eats way more than I do), so hopefully the weight will come off…unless, of course, it’s not the Abilify that’s causing this mess. What’s if it’s not? What will I do then? I think I’ll just die or something…

My depression has been really bad lately. I haven’t cut in over a week, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself from doing it tonight. The urges are really strong because of my disgusting body.

I entered two more writing contests this weekend. One’s a contest for students in college and graduate school run by The Atlantic Monthly that has prizes in all genres (obviously I entered in creative nonfiction) and the other one’s a contest open to Smith, Mount Holyoke, Wellesley, and Bryn Mawr students. I doubt I’ll win either, but they were free to enter, so I figured why not? I think my skin’s gotten a lot thicker since I’ve started writing seriously and since the viola incident, anyway.

I don’t think I ever explained the viola incident on here, so I guess I might as well. I started playing viola when I was in fifth grade and was always rather good at it—not great or anything, but good nonetheless. In high school I played in a couple of competitive orchestras and my teacher thought very highly of me. Naturally when I came to Mount Holyoke I auditioned for the orchestra, which everyone said I was a shoo-in for. I didn’t get in, and I never played the viola seriously again. I think that just goes to show how sensitive I was. I hope I’m not that bad anymore.

I really enjoyed the Team Galactic final on Pokémon. I know the actual final was only two episodes, but I thought that they were done really well. I especially liked how it wasn’t all about Ash and Dawn. Go Brock!

I did hardly any reading this weekend (as per usual, I guess), and I haven’t done any work on my thesis. I’m going to try to work on my thesis tonight, but I’m feeling really tired. I may just skip yoga tomorrow and work on it then. I also have to go to the library and start researching my final paper for English, which I’m really freaking out about.

Speaking of my thesis, I got some names for potential thesis committee members from my psych professor. She said she was really sorry that she couldn’t be on it (she’s going to be away in England next semester) and that she was really interested in reading it and that she can tell that I’m a “beautiful writer,” so that made me feel good.

Well, I guess that’s it.

I finally mustered the courage to ask my advisor for a recommendation, and she said yes! Phew, that’s a load off of my shoulders. I’m so glad I finally asked. It was kind of funny, because we were talking and she was like, “I’m really busy right now because of all of the letters of recommendation I have to write,” and I was like, “Yeah, about that…” LOL. She even said I should apply to the nonfiction program at Iowa. I know you’re all probably wondering why I would apply to such a random school, but, believe it or not, the University of Iowa has by far the best writing program in the country; it’s like the Harvard of MFA programs. She said she’s friends with one of the nonfiction professors there and would talk to her, although she said it would still be a long shot. (It is for everyone.) Getting into Iowa would be, like, a dream come true, although, of course it would mean I would have to live in Iowa, which isn’t exactly that exciting. I’m not getting my hopes up, but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to apply.

I was also approved by my advisor to continue my independent study next semester and to officially turn it into a thesis, so that’s good. Now I need to find a thesis committee. I need someone from my department (English) and someone from outside my department. I want someone from psychology for my outside the department member, because that’s obviously the most relevant, and I was going to ask my current psychology professor because she’s a specialist in memoirs written about mental illness and even just wrote a book about it, but she’s going to be on leave next semester, so that won’t work. I stopped by her office hours today to ask her if she could recommend someone else from the Five Colleges who might be interested, but she wasn’t there. I guess I’ll have to ask her tomorrow. I don’t know who to ask from the English department; I asked my advisor’s advice and she said she’d try to find someone good. We’ll see what happens.

I know I have a lot to feel good about, but I’m still having a really hard time. I just feel so fat, and my depression is really hard to deal with. I’ve been cutting now and then, and last week I went to the school store and bought an exacto knife (bad, I know), only to find when I got home that it didn’t have a blade and that you have to buy the blade separately.  (How stupid is that?) I haven’t worked up the courage to go back to the store and buy the blade, although I probably will eventually. I’m dreading my nutritionist appointment this evening because I have to get weighed, and I know I’ve gained weight because I ate so much over the weekend. I’ve been sticking to her food plan while at school, and I don’t think it’s too much because I still feel really hungry, but the weekends are going to kill me. I’m seeing my psychiatrist later this month and plan on going off of Abilify, so maybe that will help me lose weight.

I’m still king of miffed about not being able to take the Chaucer course, but oh, well. I was able to get into the other classes I wanted, including Contemporary Women’s Short Fiction, which I’m really excited about and which filled up really quickly. I’m kind of aggravated, though, because the class I wanted to take at Hampshire was full by yesterday afternoon. Only seniors could register yesterday, and it’s a lower level class and seniors usually don’t take lower level classes, so I’m not sure why that is. There are two others I can take that fit my schedule, but they are far more inconvenient. I emailed the professor of one of them that has spots available and asked if I could take the class, but I haven’t heard back from him yet. Hopefully he’ll let me in. 

Apparently insurance finally approved my Amitiza, so that’s good. The bad thing is I ran out of Necon (my birth control pill), and I need it for my endometriosis. My doctor said she’d call it in Sunday night, but she never did for some reason. I get sick when I don’t take it, but I didn’t take it last night and so far I haven’t gotten sick, so that’s good. We’ll see if it stays that way, though.

Well, I guess that’s it. I’m sorry that this is so boring.   

I haven’t been up to too much. Yesterday I went to an open house for graduate studies at Emerson College from 8:30 to 2:00. It was pretty enjoyable and got me even more psyched for an MFA, but it seems like more and more of an impossibility every day. I mean, not only are the programs incredibly difficult to get into (Emerson accepts about 50 people out of 400 applicants, and it’s one of the easier programs to get into because it’s so big!), but I just don’t have the money for it and I’ll need to get pretty much full funding on top of getting accepted. For instance, in order to attend Emerson I’d need to get the highest merit award (about 14,000 dollars) and work part-time and live at home. (I wouldn’t be able to afford an apartment.) I really want this to work, but I just don’t know if my writing’s strong enough to get me accepted and to get funding.

It looks like I misread the GRE website. Apparently you can take the GREs all year, so that’s good. I’m going to call and register soon to take them in December. I hope I do well. I know I’m going to bomb the math, but that doesn’t really matter for the programs I’m applying to. I just hope I do well on the verbal and especially the writing.

My meeting with my thesis advisor on Thursday actually went well. She couldn’t stop praising the piece I wrote this week, which is so out of character for her, and said it was the best one yet. I’m not so sure I agree with that, but I was very glad to get some positive feedback for a change. I’m going to ask her for a recommendation on Tuesday. I’m really scared, but I need to just do it.

I’m feeling kind of hurt because Cherrie never seems to want to read my writing. I know she’s busy and all with school, but, I mean, how long does it take to read a piece? I don’t expect her to comment on them or anything, just to read them. I thought she’d be excited to read my work, but I guess she’s not. I mean, I sent some of my pieces over a month ago, and she still hasn’t even read them. They’re not that long! I know she’s not my advisor and it’s not her job to read my pieces, but she said she wanted to, and I’d think she’s be interested in them, but apparently not. I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, but it does kind of hurt my feelings when I send her these things and every week she says, “Oh, I’ll read it next week,” and then next week comes and she says, “Oh, I’ll read it next week.” I don’t want to be a burden or for reading my pieces to feel like a chore. I genuinely thought she’d want to read them. I keep telling myself that it’s because she’s busy with school, but I remember one summer (maybe a year ago) I sent her a piece, and she wasn’t busy with school, and it took her, like, three months to read it. I know she likes to make comments on them and that takes a while, but I want her to just read them, which doesn’t take much time at all. I don’t know. Maybe I just need a thicker skin.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do about classes next semester. I got permission to take my psych class off-campus, but I haven’t gotten permission to take the English class that meets the requirement I have left. You see, for my remaining English class I have to take a pre-1700 class at the 300 level, and there are only two classes, Chaucer and Milton, that meet the requirement being offered next semester, and Milton meets on Friday. I really can’t take classes on Fridays because I want to be able to keep seeing my therapist at home, whom I really like, instead of having to go back to seeing my therapist at school (who triggered me all of the time), and I can’t see my therapist at home if I take Friday classes. (I have to see a therapist in order to stay in school. It’s part of my “contract” or whatever.) The problem is that in order to take Chaucer I’m supposed to have taken a pre-1700 course at the 200 level, and I haven’t. My advisor told me to email the professor of the Chaucer class and explain the situation, thinking that I wouldn’t have a problem getting into the class. Well, I emailed him and told him that I hadn’t met the prerequisite but that I’m taking a medieval studies class (Arthur and the Grail) currently at the 300 level and that I’m graduating next semester and that his class is the only one that meets the requirement I have left that fits into my schedule. Well, he emailed me back saying that he isn’t sure if he’ll let me into the class and that if I send him a five page excerpt I’ve written in my Arthur and the Grail class he might consider me for the course. How ridiculous! The problem is that I haven’t written any papers for that course yet; we only have one long final paper, which I won’t be writing until December. What am I supposed to do? You’d think he’d be a little bit nicer and more compassionate; he could be keeping me from graduating with his “ridiculousness,” after all.

I have come up with an alternative plan. I have enough credits to only take three classes next semester (independent study/thesis, my remaining psych course, and my remaining English course), but four classes is typically considered a full load. What I could do is take a pre-1700 class at the 200 level and then take another English class of my choice at the 300 level. That way I’d be meeting my requirement through two courses instead of one. It’s not ideal, but it will work, and it would still be better than taking classes on Fridays because I’d get to see my therapist. I think I’m going to take Literature of the Late Middle Ages (which, unfortunately, is with the Chaucer professor, who’s on my bad side now) for my pre-1700 course at the 200 level and Women’s Short Stories for my 300 level class. (I’m actually really excited about the second course. It’s listed under creative writing courses, so in addition to reading short stories, we’ll be writing some, too.) Again, it’s not ideal, but it’s a plan.

I’m really scared to see the nutritionist and get weighed on Tuesday. There was leftover candy in the house from Halloween, and I ate some of it. It wasn’t chocolate, but it did have a lot of sugar, so I’m guessing that it had a lot of calories. I’m, like, a candy addict. I can refuse my favorite foods all day long, but when it comes to certain types of candy, I simply can’t resist. I don’t know why. I begged my mother not to buy that type of candy for Halloween and to buy something I don’t like, but she wouldn’t listen. Now I’m probably going to pay the price when the scale is up.

Well, I guess I should start getting ready to go back to school. Boo. 

Thanks for reading. :)    

I saw the nutritionist at school today. I guess it went well. She has a new theory about what may have caused my inexplicable weight gain and my inability to lose weight: Abilify. When I told her the medications I was taking, she asked me if anyone had ever suggested them as a culprit for why I can’t lose weight/my weight gain.   She looked them all up, and Abilify apparently often causes weight gain, especially in people with low BMIs. It looks like I have a bone to pick with my psychiatrist. No, I’m not going to stop taking Abilify cold turkey (I know that’s stupid and dangerous), but I am going to ask her to take me off it next time we meet. 

She couldn’t believe that I didn’t lose weight last semester based on what I was eating and that I gained weigh over the summer (again, based on what I was eating then).  She said the only real explanation she can give aside from the Abilify is that my body had a lot of stores and that it started using them. Well, I hope it stops using them!

She was very concerned about the amount I’m eating. Yesterday I only had about 250 calories, and I told her that. She wants me to gradually increase my intake. She said to start by having a bowl of cereal with fat free milk with breakfast, turkey on wheat for lunch, and what I’m having for dinner (yogurt, rice cakes, and fruit) plus some kind of protein (PB or cottage cheese).  She wants me to try to increase the protein in my diet.  She said I could add another fruit if I’m hungry. Considering that’s about 800 or 900 calories, I guess it’s worth a try. She’s going to check in with me every week to make sure I don’t gain weight, because she knows that’s my biggest fear. She thinks this may help me get back to my set point, although she doesn’t want me to lose more than eight or ten pounds.  (I think my set point’s about thirteen to fifteen pounds below what I am now, but whatever.) I want to lose about at least twenty-five pounds right now, but ten is certainly better than nothing! (That’s if this even works, of course.) I hope and pray that getting off of Abilify and following this new diet works. I have to follow it consistently, though, which means on weekends, too. It’s going to be hard because my parents watch what I eat, but hopefully I’ll be able to get down to this many calories when I’m home. This means no more frozen yogurt on weekends, which is going to suck, but I’m willing to do it.

Anyway, it’s nice to have some hope, no matter how little it is. The nutritionist seems really nice, and seems to understand EDs. I’m still afraid that eating “normally” (I realize that less than one thousand calories is not normal, but it’s about as close to normal as I often get) will make me gain weight, but she seemed to understand that fear and wants to see me and weigh me weekly to make sure I’m not. That makes me feel a little better, I guess.

I chickened out of asking my advisor for a recommendation today. Another girl came and asked her for one, so I chickened out. I have to see her again on Thursday morning because she didn’t get the piece I wrote and sent over the weekend, so maybe I’ll ask her then. I’m just afraid because I only got a B+ in her class, but that was mostly a literature-based, speaking-intensive seminar, and I’m not very good at analyzing literature or speaking in class. I hope she’ll be look at the writing I’ve done during the independent study and base her recommendation off that, but I don’t even know if she likes that. She doesn’t offer much encouragement at all. The stuff I’m writing about is so very personal, so it would be nice to get some positive feedback. It makes me not want to write it when I don’t receive any.

I’m proud of myself because I didn’t nap at all today! I don’t have classes on Tuesdays, so I usually sleep all day. I didn’t get any work done, though; I watched the second and ninth Pokémon movies instead. Oh, well. I was afraid if I read in bed I would be too tempted to nap. It’s a start, I guess, although I’m really tired now.

My regular advisor approved the classes I selected for next semester. I also got approval from the psych department to take my course at Hampshire, so that’s good. The bad thing is that I found out that the Chaucer class I want to take (well, need to take) has a prerequisite that I don’t meet, so I need to email the instructor to get permission. I really hope he lets me in, because I’d be in a pretty bad situation if he didn’t.

I can’t believe I only have one semester left and that I’m really (well, hopefully) going to be graduating. It’s taken my five years, but I’m almost there. 

This will probably be a short update, because I’m kind of tired and want to go to bed. 

I just finished writing another essay for my thesis. I can’t believe how many pages I’ve already written—about seventy! Of course, they’re not altogether good pages yet, but they’ll get there with time. I was really starting to feel down about my thesis, but I’m starting to get excited about it again, so I think that’s definitely good.

I just wish my thesis advisor would give me more of a sense about whether or not she likes my writing. My therapist thinks the lack of positive feedback I’m getting (or feedback period) is really taking its toll on me, and she’s probably right. I mean, I don’t want her to be overly gushy or anything, especially if she doesn’t like it that much, but it would be nice if I had more of an idea about how she felt about it, especially since I’m going to be asking her for a grad school recommendation on Tuesday (which I’m totally freaking out about!). 

The classes I need to take are both Monday Wednesday Friday classes, which really ticks me off. The English department is only offering two courses that meet the requirement I have left for my major, and I really didn’t want to take the second one (a seminar about Chaucer that requires Chaucer to be read in Middle English…kill me now!), but since the first one (Milton) meets on Fridays, I think I’ll have to take Chaucer. The psych department is offering only one class that meets the requirement I have left for my minor, and it, too, meets on Fridays, so I’m thinking about taking a similar class at Hampshire. Hampshire offers a ton of classes that meet the requirement, including a few on Tuesday and Thursday mornings (which would fit my schedule perfectly), and Hampshire is the closest of the other four schools to Mount Holyoke, so the bus ride wouldn’t even be that bad. I think I’ll do that. I’m going to take Pilates, which is on Monday and Wednesday mornings, for my gym. I think the schedule will work well if I can get the classes I want. Having to take psych at Hampshire instead of here is a bit of a bummer, but I’d rather do that than have class on Fridays.  My third class will be the second half of my independent study. (Yay for extra credits and only having to take three classes!)

I really need to get working on my graduate school applications. Cherrie’s going to write my letter of recommendation soon, and I’ll send an email to remind my second letter writer about it, so hopefully he’ll write his soon, too. I want to send in one of my applications early, because the school has rolling admissions, so I figure the earlier I send it in the better. (That school, along with a lot of other ones, only requires two letters of recommendation. I’m hoping my thesis advisor will write the third one, but I won’t need it right away.) I also found another school to apply to: Rutgers, Camden. I think my list is complete now. It’s kind of disheartening how few schools offer the program I’m interested in, but what can you do? Here’s my final list for MFA in writing with a concentration in creative nonfiction schools: Hollins, George Mason, University of New Hampshire, American, Sarah Lawrence, Rutgers at Camden, Vermont College of Fine Arts, Bennington, Lesley and possibly Penn State and Emerson.

Why possibly Penn State and Emerson? Well, both of those schools require the GRE, and when I went to sign up for the GRE a couple of weeks ago, I learned that it was over for the year. They’re not offering it again until February, and I don’t know if that will be early enough for those schools. I’m going to an open house at Emerson next weekend, so I’ll ask about it then.

I’m starting to get excited about graduate school. I mean, I’m super nervous about the possibility of having to move away from home (and I mean more than two hours away, which is how far away I am now), but I’m excited, too, and not just because I want to move away and reach my goal weight and all of that crap. I think it would be cool to have a new start. The idea also petrifies me, though. I guess I vacillate a lot between being scared and excited.

Well, it’s another new week, which means I’m going to make another attempt at my diet. I really, really hope I lose weight this time. I just want to get back to my set-point. Well, obviously I’d love to drop way below that and ultimately to my goal weight, but I don’t know if I should be aiming so high when I’m having so much trouble losing.

Tonight is an annual tradition for seniors and first-years at school. I, of course, will not be participating. It’s hard having no friends here. I feel like such a loser.  My therapist and I talked a lot about how much I’ve missed out on in the past however many years, especially socially. It is kind of sad, I guess.

Once again I did no school work this weekend. I did read a lot of good fanfiction, though. :)

I feel like I have more to say, but my back’s killing me and I’ve got to get away from my desk. Besides, I said I’d keep this short. ;)

. 

Things have been so-so, I guess. First the good news: I got an A on my psych midterm paper. It seems like I never get A’s on papers anymore, so this was a pleasant surprise. I’m really happy about it. It counts for thirty percent of our grade, and I’m doing really well in the class otherwise (I’ve been participating a lot and managed to get another check plus on this week’s writing assignment—that’s four out of seven), so I just have to do well on the final paper and I could get an A in the class, which should help my GPA and would be really cool because it’s a three hundred level class. I still haven’t decided which book I’m going to write about for the final paper—probably Wasted, because I own it and feel like I could have a lot to say about it.

Naturally, the bad news has to do with my ED. I feel like no one takes it seriously anymore.  I went for my weight and vitals check at school yesterday, and my blood pressure dropped by thirty points from lying to sitting, which is, like, ridiculously orthostatic. I mean, a ten point drop is considered orthostatic. (I was also orthostatic by pulse, but not as badly. Besides, when am I not orthostatic by pulse?) The nurse was like, “Whoa!” The doctor, though? She didn’t even mention it. She just said that my pulse was very high and doing crazy things as usual and that things looked “pretty stable.” She didn’t even mention my BP. Now, if I weighed forty or even thirty pounds less she would have surely mentioned it; she’d probably be rushing me to the hospital for crying out loud! No one takes my ED seriously because I’m not underweight anymore.

I did make an appointment to see the nutritionist next Tuesday evening; we’ll see how that goes. Maybe she’ll take me more seriously. I also got my flu shot while I was there yesterday. My arm has been sore, but other than that I haven’t had any side effects.

I saw the GI doctor today. She’s going to change my laxative because my gut is “overly sensitive” and “irritable.” She also prescribed something called “Amitiza,” which she said would help with my problems. Like I don’t take enough pills already! Sheesh! I hope this one isn’t too expensive.

Other than that I guess things are going OK. I was able to successfully present on the chapter of the book I was assigned in English on Monday, and the professor said I did a good job, so I’m guessing that she isn’t aware of the fact that I didn’t read the rest of the book, which is good.  I have a fifteen to twenty page paper due at the end of the semester for that class, and I’m freaking out because it’s a research paper and I still don’t know what to write about.  My advisor was sick on Tuesday, so I didn’t get to see her this week. I’m thinking about asking her to write me a letter of recommendation for graduate school (I need one more), but I’m not sure if I should because I really can’t tell if she likes my writing or not. I really wish letters of recommendation weren’t needed to apply, well, anywhere.

Classes for next semester are going to be posted on the school website tomorrow. I know which classes I want (err, need rather) to take, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that they won’t interfere with one another and that they won’t be on Friday.  I meet with my academic advisor on Tuesday; hopefully she’ll approve my schedule.

Someone posted a group picture that I’m in on Facebook from summer 2005. Oh, man. I don’t have many pictures of myself at emaciated weights, so I really didn’t know that I ever looked like that. It’s kind of scary. I mean, I hate the fact that my upper arms spread out from the elbows onward, sort of making a “V” or a “U” shape, but in this picture they’re straight like rulers. It’s my face, though, that looks really weird. I look like I have bug eyes and the dark circles under my eyes look bad. I’ll see if I can somehow post it in this entry. I’m the one in the front closest to the camera (not that you should have any trouble telling which one I am, because I’m the only one who looks, well, sickly).

I have mixed reactions to that picture. I mean, on the one hand I know I don’t look very good in the picture, but on the other hand I still think I look better in a lot of ways in that picture than I do now. Argh! It’s so confusing!

I guess that’s it. I want to sleep now, but I slept all day after I got back from my doctor’s appointment (which was at 8:30 this morning). I’ll probably read some fanfiction, work on “Alphabet Challenge” “I”, and watch my Neon Genesis Evangelion DVDs instead. 

 

Man, my depression is killing me. I don’t know what to do anymore. I just want to curl up in bed and stay there for the rest of my life. It’s gotten to the point that I can’t handle anything anymore. I haven’t looked at a school book since Wednesday; I have absolutely no motivation to study or to do anything related to school at the moment, not even my thesis. The worst part is that I don’t even know why I feel this way. I have absolutely no reason to be this depressed. I am, though.

Sunday nights are hard because it means saying goodbye to home and to my parents, but that’s really rather pathetic because I’ll be seeing them again on Wednesday anyway. Why am I such a child? Here I am saying that I want to get my own apartment next year, too; how will I ever handle that? I might have to, though, for graduate school (presuming the only graduate schools I get into and can afford are far away), and I definitely have to if I want to lose weight (and oh, God, do I want to lose weight!). I cannot lose weight at home. I gained fifteen pounds both this summer and last summer, but while I’m at school I never gain. I love being at home, but I can’t live there because it makes me fat. That makes me very sad.

God, I have to lose weight. On the ride over here this afternoon I just became so fed up with how fat I am and with my body. I don’t know if I can take it anymore. I just want to be thin again so badly; it makes me want to cry. How on earth did I ever get stuck in a fat body? I’ve been thin all my life! Despite all of my talk about fears of becoming fat, I never pictured it getting this bad—I’m not kidding or exaggerating! It’s literally gotten worse than my worst nightmares ever were.   When I think of all of those professionals who promised me that I would never go over a certain weight I get so angry, because they didn’t keep their promises. “We’re not here to make you fat,” they said; yet that’s exactly what happened, isn’t it? God!

I find myself getting jealous of people all of the time, mostly people I shouldn’t be jealous of…like friends from treatment who keep having to go back into treatment. I know that if I were constantly in and out of treatment like I was in high school and early college I wouldn’t be on the verge of finishing my undergraduate degree (albeit a year later, but whatever), and I know that getting my degree is a good thing. I want to go to graduate school and write books and teach writing, and I’d be even farther away from achieving those things if I were still caught in the revolving door of treatment. Still, it hurts. I miss treatment and I want treatment. Perhaps more importantly than that I need treatment; I know I do. I need it just as much as my friends need it. I can’t have it, though, because I’m fat. I can’t have it, though, and it’s not because I’m eating more than my friends or have a better grip on behaviors or have less distorted thoughts or am less depressed (God knows it’s not that one!); it’s because my body’s royally effed up and I can’t lose weight and I’m fat. God, it’s unfair.   

I want to cut, and I mean really cut. I want to go deep and bleed a lot, but nothing I have in my room seems to be able to do the trick. I considered stealing a steak knife from home and bringing it to school, but I was afraid my mother would notice and would then find out that I’m back to cutting, and I don’t want to scare her or hurt her.

It’s not even like I had a bad weekend, so I’m not sure why I’m having such a bad night tonight. I actually hung out with a few friends from high school on Saturday night. It was nice to see them, although the event we went to made me a little uncomfortable. It was a twenty-one plus beer and food festival (I know, right up my alley!), and I don’t drink (at all). I did manage to get a sausage and eat it, but I was the only one who didn’t have a beer. Then we went bowling, which was better. After that they were going to for drinks, but, again, I don’t drink, and it was getting kind of late and I was tired and had work to do, so I opted out of that one. Still, it was a pretty good night. Tonight, though, I just feel awful.

I’m sorry. I hate that I use this journal for venting, but I have nowhere else to vent aside from my therapist, and I only see her once a week for an hour. I feel like this is the only place I can safely express myself.   Maybe I’ll write about some of these feelings and turn it into an essay for my thesis. At least then I’ll be doing something productive with them.

I’m feeling very overwhelmed and stressed by school. It’s my own fault, really, because instead of doing any work I spent the entire weekend reading fanfiction and watching my Neon Genesis Evangelion DVDs and watching Sailor Moon Stars on YouTube and, above all of that, sleeping. I really need to sleep less. I was supposed to read a book for class tomorrow, but I didn’t; I can’t skip class, though, because I skipped class last week because I didn’t read. God, I’m so lazy! I think I did an OK job on my psych midterm paper, although I was up until one in the morning writing it Wednesday. We’ll see what kind of grade I get.

The Susanna Kaysen reading was good, although my mother, who took me, didn’t like it very much because she thought Kaysen was vulgar and that she didn’t do a good job answering questions. I thought it was OK, though. I did kind of have a hard time, though, because there was a girl there who was clearly anorexic. She wasn’t, like, super emaciated or anything, but she was definitely overly thin and was blatantly body checking, and, well, I could just tell she was anorexic. Sometimes you can just tell, you know?

I just wish I felt better. I really, really want to feel better. I guess if that means eating between 200 and 300 calories a day (the new amount I’ve set for myself, because 400 didn’t work) and working out more, then, well, so be it. I’m determined to feel better.

I guess that’s it. I suppose I should go do some work on my thesis so I have something to email my advisor tomorrow to show for this week.  I need to stop being so lazy!

I’m kind of having a hard time right now, as I often do on Sunday nights. I don’t know why, but I have a hard time leaving my parents. I should be past this by now; I’m too old for this. How am I ever going to be able to go away to graduate school next year? I’m not saying that I am necessarily going to go away, but I may have to if the only schools I can get into are far away. It’s just so lonely here at school because I have no friends. Maybe I should do a low residency program, which only requires me to be away from home two to four weeks a year. Then I definitely wouldn’t be able to lose weight, though, and I desperately need to lose weight.   I don’t know what to do.

I feel so fat. I don’t know how I ever let myself reach this weight. That’s the thing, though; I didn’t let myself reach this weight. It just happened. I didn’t increase my intake or anything. I just don’t get it. How could I gain ten pounds in August alone when I wasn’t eating anymore in August than in, say, July or June? How am I supposed to cope with this crap?

I feel really anxious tonight, and I don’t know why. I’ve been taking my meds fairly regularly. (Sometimes this happens when I run out of meds.) Maybe it’s because I got, like, no work done over the weekend because I spent all of last night writing fanfiction. I only read maybe a quarter of the book due for my English class tomorrow. I think I’m going to skip the class. Missing one class won’t kill me, right? Right?

*sigh* I know I’m distorted, but it’s so hard to look at myself in the mirror now. I did get a clue as to just how distorted I am the other day, however. I was looking online at this magazine article that contained pictures of regular size (as opposed to the typical teeny-tiny) women who were nude. I saw one woman and thought that she looked a lot like me (size-wise and body-wise). Well, I then read a little more of the article and found out that she weighs one hundred eighty pounds. Uh, either she’s impossibly tall or I’m impossible distorted, because I weigh nowhere near that amount.   Ugh.

I’m excited to go to therapy on Friday, because I didn’t get to go this week and I feel like I have a lot to talk to about. I’m also excited because on Thursday night I’m going to Salem State College (which is relatively near where I live) to hear Susana Kaysen, the author of Girl, Interrupted speak. Cherrie works at Salem and thought I might be interested in the event, and of course I am. It should be pretty cool.

I really think I may see a nutritionist here at school again. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like I have to go back if I see her once and decide that I don’t like her. I think I’ll make an appointment when I go for my weight and vitals check next week.

I started a new fanfiction that I’m really excited about. Maybe writing it will improve my mood a little.

I didn’t do any work on my thesis this weekend. I’m such a lazy, bad student. I did some extra work on it last week, luckily, so I can always use that for this week, but I didn’t finish anything. I may just send her the five extra pages I wrote last week and say that I’ve been too busy with midterms to do more. It is midterms time and I do have a midterm paper due Wednesday, so it’s not a total lie.

I’m going to start working out again tomorrow and eating four hundred calories or less a day. I had upped it to between eight hundred and one thousand because I know that’s better for my metabolism and I wanted to see if I could lose weight that way, but I didn’t, so I have to decrease again. I hate this. I just want to get down to one hundred pounds again; it’s not even like I want to go that low.

I wish I wasn’t so obsessed with my weight. I hate that I am, but I can’t help it. It’s been the most important part of my identity for so many years.

I have my period, which isn’t helping things. The cramps are pretty bad, but not unbearable or anything. It just makes me feel fat to have it.

Well, I guess that’s it. I think I’m going to go to bed. I’m too anxious and depressed to get anything accomplished tonight.

I have the most exciting news: I’m going to be a bridesmaid! My friend who recently got engaged called me tonight and asked if I would be in her wedding, so of course I said yes. I’m so flattered and honored. I didn’t even know if I would be invited to the wedding. I’ve never been in a wedding before, so this is really exciting for me.

Of course, the ED thoughts are going in all different directions. On the one hand I can’t help thinking, “I have to lose some weight so I won’t look ridiculous in a dress.” On the other hand, though, I obviously can’t lose too much weight because then the dress won’t fit and I won’t look good in it at all, and I can’t risk having to be hospitalized and miss the wedding. (I’m not anywhere near hospitalization, by the way.) The wedding’s not until June 2011, though, so I suppose I shouldn’t be worrying about weights and dresses just yet, but, well, that’s what I worry about.

I had my doctor’s appointment yesterday, and it was difficult because I don’t believe I’ve lost weight. At the end of the appointment, the doctor asked, “So, how are you coping with the weight gain?” I got all freaked out because I thought she meant I had gained weight since my last weigh-in, but she told me that I hadn’t and that she was referring to the weight I gained over the summer. Well, at least I’m not gaining weight…I guess I should settle for that, but I don’t know if I can. As for how I’m coping, well, how does she think I’m coping? Sheesh, I’m just swell. I suppose I shouldn’t be so nasty, though; she’s just doing her job.

I’m thinking about maybe seeing a nutritionist again. There’s a new one at school (the one that was there last year said she wouldn’t see me after the first semester because I wasn’t doing anything she suggested), so maybe I ought to give it a try. I’ve never had much (any) luck with nutritionists, but maybe this time will be different. Do people generally find working with an N helpful?

Tonight was a very difficult night (well, before I got the phone call about being a bridesmaid, which improved my mood). Once again I was under the suspicion that my sister hadn’t eaten anything until dinner (for the third Friday in a row, I thought), and this time I confronted her (with my mother present). Apparently I was wrong…again. God, I need to stop being so paranoid and focused on what other people look like and what other people are eating. Naturally my sister blew up (as she is apt to do), but I guess I can’t really blame her; I mean, it must be hard to always feel like you’re being scrutinized for what you eat and what you weigh, which is exactly what I do to her. I felt so bad that I started crying, which was beyond embarrassing, because I never cry in front of other people (and very rarely cry period). Then I talked with my mother a bit about how I’m having a hard time coping with all of the weight I’ve gained. I wanted to tell her about everything—that I’m restricting a lot and not losing weight and that I started cutting again in June—but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t want her to worry more than she already does.

I have a ton of work to do this weekend. I have to read two books and write a five page paper for psych and finish this week’s essay for my independent study. Tomorrow I’m seeing Cherrie and she’s going to help me write a cover letter so I can send out my piece to literary magazines that require cover letters. (I sent it out to those that don’t last weekend.) I hope it gets accepted somewhere.

I’ve noticed something very strange lately. I often dream about shipping, mainly Pokeshipping, and sometimes I have bad dreams in which an opposing ship becomes canon. Usually when I dream about a different ship becoming canon, be it Morpheusshipping, Pearlshipping, Advanceshipping, etc, I get very upset. Lately, though, when I’ve dreamt that Orangeshipping has become canon it hasn’t bothered me that much, and I think I know why. If Orangeshipping became canon it would mean Misty were over her crush with Ash and had moved on to Tracey, and while I would hate that and it would suck majorly, Misty would still be happy and would be getting the person she wanted. If an opposing Ash ship happened, however, poor Misty would be devastated and without the person she loved. I don’t think this means I’m becoming an Orangeshipper or anything (God, I hope not!), but it does mean that if an opposing Misty ship like Orangeshipping happened I wouldn’t be too upset. (If an opposing Ash ship, like *shudder* Pearlshipping happened I’d be awfully sad.) I wouldn’t like it, but it wouldn’t depress me forever, and maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t want to become an Orangeshipper and Pokeshipping will always be my OTP and I’ll always love it and read and write Pokeshipping fanfics, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I opened up to the idea of another Misty ship becoming canon, because I know there’s a possibility (however slim) that it might happen. I don’t know if I’m ready to accept another Ash ship becoming canon, though.

I thought this week’s episode was pretty good. There weren’t any Pearlshipping hints, which made me pretty darn happy. I liked Kotone and Kazunari, and I thought the shipping moments between them were cute. Why oh why does Kotone always say her name, though?   Is it supposed to be some sort of Japanese pun? It’s so annoying. You know what else is annoying? The new version of High Touch! I liked the old one much better.

Well, I guess that’s it. Off to bed.    

OK, so here’s the deal. I’ve been having pretty awful, even gruesome, dreams for a while now. I’m talking dreams in which I’m raped or murdered, etc. I even had a dream in which someone killed me and then took off my skin and wore it and then killed other people (but people thought I was the one doing the murders because he was wearing my skin). How sick and twisted is that? The thing is, though, that these don’t bother me, mainly because I know there just dreams.  (Yes, even when I’m dreaming I somehow know that I’m dreaming.) Today, though, I had a dream that just won’t leave me alone.

It happened something during the late morning or early afternoon. In the dream I tried to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge. I failed. The dream switched to me being in the ER and my parents beings there and having to sign a consent form for surgery. Then I’m in the ICU, hooked up to a ventilator while my parents watch me struggle to wake up. It is unclear whether or not I’ve incurred brain damage. The dream ended with me looking over half-dead myself and crying because of what I’ve done.

I’ve had plenty of nightmares (mostly when I was a kid), but I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream make me as distressed as this one. I mean, I’m on the verge of tears right now just thinking about it. Why would this dream impact me in a way that the other awful dreams (rape and murder) don’t? Well, there’s only one obvious answer. In this dream I was the one committing the awful act. I wasn’t raped or murdered; I tried to kill myself.

I just…I don’t know. I keep thinking about my parents. How could I ever do something like that to them? Perhaps even more than that, though, I keep thinking about myself. I seemed so innocent in the dream, lying in that hospital bed. What have I done to deserve death? I’m just a person, neither inherently good nor inherently evil.   I don’t deserve to die at my own hand.

I’ve spent so many years hurting myself and trying to self-destruct, and for what? Do I really deserve that? Do I really deserve to die in such an awful way?

When I get like this I tend to think about myself as a child. There’s a reason why I can’t look at pictures of myself as a child. It hurts too much because I see that little girl and she looks so good and so innocent and I know that I’m going to destroy her, because, in essence, that’s what I’ve done; I’ve slowly destroyed myself. The thing is, though, that I’m not a different person from the one I was in those photos. I’m still the same little girl.

The scary thing is that I’ve been thinking about suicide a lot more lately, and not just thinking about it but fantasizing about it. It’s not like I was actively planning to do it, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about it more often. I’ve been cutting more, too. 

Maybe this dream will be a turning point for me—a very painful turning point, but a necessary one. Now, I’m not saying that I’ll stop thinking about suicide or stop cutting, and I doubt it’ll affect my ED behaviors and thoughts at all, but I might just look at things a little differently. 

I really, really want to cry right now, and maybe I will. You know what, though? I don’t want to cut.

Things have been OK, I guess. The long weekend is finally here, which I’m super excited about. I’m looking forward to going to New Hampshire and seeing Cherrie on Monday, although I’m still nervous about the lunch. Hopefully it’ll be OK, though. I need to work on graduate school applications and to do my work for next week, but I’ve already read a third of my psych book (and it’s quick reading) and written half of my new essay for my independent study, so I’m in pretty good shape. 

I’m still really enjoying this independent study. I’m really glad that I had a high enough GPA to do it and that I found a professor who was willing to work with me on it. I spent a chunk of yesterday afternoon in the library reading a thesis a girl wrote last year; it’s a personal narrative/memoir, so that’s why my advisor suggested it.  Get this? You submit your thesis in a binder to the library at the end of the year and then during the summer they turn it into a book that stays in the library and that other people can read! How cool is that? I can’t wait to have mine made into a book. 

The essay I’m working on right now is about menstruation and endometriosis. I don’t like it very much so far, but hopefully I can make it better over time. I’m kind of worried about the 125 page limit for theses; I just feel like I have so much I want to write and I don’t want to leave anything out.

My psych class continues to go well. I got another check plus on this week’s writing assignment. I’m really enjoying the readings and the discussion. I feel at ease participating in the class, which is a rarity for me. We have a five page paper due next week; hopefully I’ll get an A on it.

I started reading the book I purchased off amazon.com. It’s interesting so far. The first essay was actually about a woman recovering from mental illness, including depression and anorexia (although the main focus of the essay was her OCD and experience with Prozac), so that really resonated with me. I think I’m going to read another one before therapy at 5:00.

I’m glad I have therapy this evening. There are so many thoughts going through my mind. I’ve been having a lot of urges to cut, and I gave in and did so on Wednesday night. I’m also feeling really triggered by my sister again; I don’t think she’s eaten anything today, but I can’t say anything because she’s doing me a huge favor by bringing me to therapy, and I’m afraid if I say something she’ll refuse to do so. (My parents can’t bring me because there was a death in the family—no one I really knew—so they’re going to the wake tonight.) I’m really lucky to have such a good therapist.

Well, I guess that’s it. Wow, this is such a short entry for me!  

Ugh, I’ve been so tired. All I want to do is sleep. Today I didn’t get up until late (leaving me just enough time to write my reading response for psych) and I also took a three hour nap. Yoga was canceled yesterday, so I slept in until 11:30, even though I had a ton of work to do. I did hardly any of my reading for my English class, so I wasn’t able to participate (and it’s a seminar, so participation counts for a large chunk of our grade). I really wish I wasn’t so tired all of the time.

I hate to be a downer, but I’m beginning to think I’ll never be happy. For a long time I’ve connected happiness with my weight, but that doesn’t seem to work. I was depressed when I was at really low weights (although my ED tells me that’s because I hadn’t gotten low enough, and I’m inclined to believe it), and I’m depressed at healthy weights.   My ED tells me that I’ll be happier when I’m emaciated and my treatment team tells me that I’ll be happier when I’m healthy, but, really, neither makes me happy.  I’m just doomed to be unhappy, I guess.

I’ve had Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) since I was thirteen.  I’m twenty-three now. That’s a long time to be severely depressed. I’ve been told by treatment providers that people with depression are generally depressed for a while and then the depression fades; sometimes it comes back and sometimes it doesn’t. That simply hasn’t been the case with me. I’ve been depressed consistently for ten years. Sure, some times are worse than others, but I can’t say that I’ve really been happy for more than a fleeting moment during these ten years. The psychologist I saw while at the program at McLean found this all very strange and wants me to have neuropsych and psych testing. I’m on the waiting list for it. We’ll see what it shows.

Last night I went to hear a lecture at Holyoke Community College for my psych class. The speaker was David Oaks, one of the leaders of the Mad Pride movement. It was interesting, although a little weird. I’m not sure I agreed with everything he said. One thing he said really got to me, however. He said that anti-psychotics, when taken at high doses for long periods of time, can cause the frontal lobe to shrink; it other words, they can cause a “chemical lobotomy.” I’ve take an anti-psychotic (Abilify) for quite a while, though I don’t think I’m at a very high dose and I probably haven’t been taking it long enough to do damage. Still, it’s something to think about.

It was weird hearing the speaker talk about his experience at McLean. He was even in Bowditch, the building Klarman’s in. He had a very negative experience there. The two times I’ve been my experience hasn’t been too negative, but maybe things have improved over the last three decades.

I felt a little out of place being there with my psych class. There were a lot of people there with mental illness, and I almost felt like I should have been sitting with them. I feel like I relate more to them than I do to the average college student. For example, on the ride home everyone in the car was talking about drinking and different kinds of alcohol.  I don’t drink. I would have had much more to say if, say, the conversation were about psychiatric meds.

The book I ordered from amazon.com came today. It’s about illness and recovery and my advisor recommended it as reading material for my thesis. It looks really interesting, but I don’t think I’ll get a chance to start reading it until this weekend (which, thankfully, is extra long). I also found out that archived theses can’t leave the library, so I’ll have to pick a day and go to the library and read the thesis from last year that my advisor recommended that I read. I’ll probably do it Thursday, because I’m stuck here until Thursday night and have nothing to do on Thursday except meet with my advisor.

I have to make an appointment to see the school doctor this week. I really don’t want to because that means getting weighed. I’m sure I haven’t lost weight even though I haven’t been eating much, and that kills me.

I ended up just writing fanfiction on Sunday night. I finished “G” for Alphabet Challenge as well as a one-shot I had started working on over the summer. Both have been received pretty well. 

Because I spent Sunday night writing fanfiction I was unable to finish revising my essay. However, since I’m meeting with my advisor on Thursday this week instead of meeting with her today (Tuesday), she said I could send it to her Wednesday night, so that’s good.

On Monday Cherrie and I are going up to New Hampshire to have lunch and look at foliage. It should be nice, although I’m a little nervous about having lunch. The restaurant we’re going to is this big fancy place that required reservations and the meals have, like, three or four courses. Yikes! Normally what I’d, of course, is not eat for the rest of the day, but my parents are going to make me eat something for dinner and breakfast. I suppose I’ll just try to get away with eating as little as possible.

Well, I guess that’s it. I suppose I should try to get some reading done before I collapse into bed.  

Well, I figured out how to make my bio look a little prettier. I think it looks a bit better now.

Gah, I have so much work to do, and the long weekend seems so far away. I have to finish rewriting the essay I wrote last week and read a book and some essays for tomorrow and a book for Wednesday. You’d think I wouldn’t have too much work because I’m only taking three classes, but they’re all three hundred level classes, so I guess that’s why I have a lot of work. Tonight I’m going to finish rewriting my essay and tomorrow I’m going to get up early and read as much of the book and the essays as I can; if I don’t finish then, well, this week I don’t finish. I guess it’s not the end of the world.

I really wish I didn’t have so much work to do. I just want to write my memoir (aka my thesis) and read and write Pokeshipping fanfiction. There are so many good fanfics I’m missing out on because I just don’t have the time to read them. I really want to write a new one-shot, too, but I don’t even know what to write about. Ugh, I hate writer’s block! I wish I had an idea for a beautiful one-shot.

I had an interesting experience at the mall last night with my mother and sister. My sister got an internship at the state house, and she needed to buy some work pants. Well, I saw what size she grabbed when she went to try them on, and she grabbed a size six…and they fit. Now, I’ve been convinced, especially after the massive weight gain of last summer and this summer in particular, that I’m bigger than my sister; there was absolutely no doubt about it in my mind. I wear a size four currently, though, so maybe I am distorted. I still think she probably weighs less than I do, but she’s also almost two inches shorter than I am. I don’t know. I do think her stomach’s flatter than mine, though.

I’m still upset about the fact that my sister seems to be restricting. I told my mother about how I don’t think she ate until dinner on Friday, but I don’t know if she ever confronted my sister or not. I really wish she would. It doesn’t always matter what one weighs; someone could be at a perfectly healthy weight like my sister (or, currently, like me) and still be struggling with an eating disorder and be in danger.

My mother wants me to sign up to get senior photos taken, but I’ve been putting it off for a number of reasons, mainly because I think I look too fat to get pictures taken of me. I want to put it off until the spring, because hopefully I’ll have lost a good chunk of weight by then and will be back to being acceptably skinny. 

Nicole Johns is writing a sequel to Purge: Rehab Diaries, which I’m really excited about. I really liked her first book, and I think it would be interesting to read about the struggles one experiences when one gets out of treatment, which isn’t often written about. 

I’m trying to keep my new essay from being flat and completely devoid of emotion, but I’m having a hard time doing that. It’s just so boring and lacks that punch that my other pieces seem to have. I rearranged it so it’s not a totally straightforward narrative, but I’m not sure even that can save it. I hope I can come up with some way to breathe some life into it before I send it out to my advisor.

I can’t believe how close I am to graduating. Honestly, I never thought I’d make it; there were just too many hurdles to overcome. It always just seemed so far away, and now it’s not so far away anymore. I’m almost there. :)

I’m sorry this is all over the place. I’m having a hard time thinking coherently, I guess. I’m just feeling stressed and overwhelmed by the amount of work I have to do. I can’t wait until next weekend, which will be extra long, although I’ll probably spend the whole thing working on graduate school applications. Maybe I’ll have time to work on fanfiction, though.  :)