Title:	Sigh
Date:	2009-01-06 @ 20:28
Security:	public
Location:	Home
Mood:	depressed

Today was difficult, as I had predicted it would be, because of my doctor’s appointment.  Man, I hate going to the doctor’s now (which is such a contrast to when I was sick and loved going).  It’s just so hard to be seen as healthy.  My vitals were fine as far as I know (besides my pulse being through the roof as per normal), and it just…I don’t know.  I just hate this. 

My doctor asked if I were proud for having maintained my health since late summer, and I had to tell her no.  What’s there to be proud of?  Besides, why should I be proud of something I didn’t even work towards?  I put absolutely no effort into maintaining my weight (in fact, I put a lot of effort into doing the opposite); it just happened anyway. 

She said she was disappointed that I hadn’t made more progress mentally and emotionally.  This I don’t understand because I almost feel like I’ll never make progress mentally and emotionally; I can’t see myself ever feeling or thinking differently.  I asked her why she wasn’t happy that I was maintaining my weight and more or less my physical health, and she said that it wasn’t normal to be depressed all of the time and to hate yourself.  Well, it’s normal for me.  I don’t think I’ll ever change in terms of that, so she should be happy with what she’s got. 

I just have such a hard time accepting that I’m doing better (at least in terms of weight and physical health).  I have a hard time seeing it and feeling it, too.  I mean, my doctor, who hadn’t seen me since last August, commented on how lovely and healthy my hair looked in comparison to before and how much my color had improved, and I just can’t see it.  I look the same (except fat).  I don’t like looking better.  I remember before I went IP during the summer of 2007 my mother commented that people look at me and wonder what’s wrong with me.  I asked my doctor if it were true and she said it was because of my weight and coloring.  I remember being so happy about it, but now people don’t look at me that way. 

I opened up a lot during the appointment, though, once my mother got in the room.  The doctor was explaining to my mother how she was a little sad that I hadn’t made any progress emotionally or mentally and how I still wasn’t looking towards the future and my mother explained that I was because I was looking at graduate schools.  My doctor asked me why I didn’t tell her this and I explained that I was afraid she would judge me because she wouldn’t think I was good enough to go into writing (which I realize is ridiculous because she’s never even read my writing).  I also explained that I’m afraid if my team sees me as getting better they’ll drop me.  I even added that one of the reasons I starve myself until I’m so sick is because I can’t articulate how badly my depression makes me feel and I want people to know how badly it hurts.  (An emaciated body leaves little question that the person is in pain.)  I even almost cried (which is big for me because I almost never cry).  My doctor explained that she sees normal-weighted patients all of the time because she knows they still need support and that she and the rest of my team won’t dump me.  She and my mother were supportive, so that was nice, and she said she was really proud of me for opening up like that because it’s the most open I’ve been with her since I started seeing her.

I was feeling a little bit better after that, but it can never last, can it?  Just as I was leaving they called in the next patient, and, my God, she was emaciated.  The girl looked like she needed to be in a hospital.  Granted, she was a lot younger than I am (my doctor is an adolescent specialist and mostly sees teenagers), but still.  I want to look like that again so badly. 

Luckily I still have my weight loss plan for this upcoming semester.  I’m going to eat one baked potato (with nothing one it) for dinner at night (and that’s it) and exercise for fifty minutes a day at the gym.  It’s going to be mega tough, but I think I can do it because I’m super motivated.  Hey, if other people can do it then I can, too.  I’ll do that until I get down to eighty-five percent (just over 102 pounds) and then I’ll stop until a month before the semester ends, when I’ll do it again and drop as much weight as I can (I’m hoping for twenty pounds, but as long as I get at least twelve I’ll be satisfied).  It’ll only work if my doctor agrees to see me every other week instead of every week (which I think she’ll agree to because I did so well this past semester).  Please let this work!

Ugh, I have to go to the dentist tomorrow, which is never that fun.  (It’s not so much that I mind the dentist but that I mind getting up for an 11:00 appointment.)  Then I’m going with my sister to the Tuft’s bookstore (she goes to Tufts University) to help her get her books for next semester.  This is, of course, if the weather isn’t that bad, because it’s supposed to storm tomorrow (again…). 

Well, I guess that’s it.  Sorry for being such a downer all of the time.