3:10 p.m. - 11/26/01
the new karate kid.
Very few moments in my life call for the Beastie Boys. This is one of them.
I don't even know why I keep wishing I could break down a wall with a sledgehammer or have an extreme boxing match, but I'm just so angry, I can barely breathe. And when I come home with the very good attention of turning on "Sabotage", journaling, and hopefully regaining enough sanity to write creatively, to find my father home early from work playing *Perry Fucking Como* I just tend to feel a little mars-like. The universe and I are at war.
I'm thinking about asking for a punching bag & gloves for Christmas. I don't know. I couldn't think of anything I wanted, and my parents wouldn't let me get away with not getting anything. I thought about suggesting a one-way ticket somewhere, but didn't want them to bitch at me after the request. I'm also entertaining a CD burner and an antique typewriter, both of which I've wanted for a much longer time, but today the mini boxing ring sounds much better. I can see myself up in the loft here, blaring Beastie Boys on one stereo, Tracy Bonham on a second, and Fiona Apple on a third. I'd be in the middle, stripped down to muscle, kicking the shit out of the red bag. Running's always good, but when I'm pissed- it centers in my shoulders and my arms. I need to feel the adrenaline feeding from there.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. *die happy things die*
I took off my sweater and am sitting here in a tank top and slacks. I only mention that because when I took off the sweater it broke the chain on the angel necklace Silje gave me when I left the hospital. I suppose it's a good thing I was already so furious because I think that would have sent me on a manic killing spree had it happened at any other point, but contrary to popular prediction, I was too overwhelmed with anger for the broken gift to affect me. I fell into the computer chair and am somewhat exhausted.
shit shit shit shit FUCK.
*sigh*
So I went to day treatment today, which was actually a good thing despite the fact that it throws me into school-equivalent anxiety. I had nightmares last night and woke up early feeling sick. Of course, I also watched "The Sixth Sense" last night, and even though I think that's a fucking awesome movie, it tends to scare the shit out of me. I'm a wimp, I guess, but maybe it's different when you live in a family where it isn't abnormal to *see* ghosts...where people hanging in school hallways aren't easily passed off as "just a movie." Anyway, I was not well-rested.
And I hate my mom. Honestly, I can't stay here anymore. I don't even know why I hate her today; I'm just so fucking irritable, and it's like everything she does just makes me want to break a windshield and roll around in the glass.
She thinks I'm restricting and not telling her because the IOP people suggested I stay for the meals after all, unlike what was decided when I went into the program originally. Granted I haven't been 100% compliant this past week (mostly due to the lack of veg food at Dale's) and I've kind of been following a self-select meal plan instead of the one I have on my card (meaning I'm doing *exactly* what I did the last month I was the hospital) but since I keep track of things I'm down in terms of the self-select, and I consider that not being compliant, as well as the fact that they saw me eat basically nothing the first day I was there, the IOP people are worried, so they worried my mom and now she thinks I lie about my ED behavior. Which pisses me off. Mostly because she always thought I lied about it, she's just asking me now if I do, and she's still giving me all this bullshit about how she trusts me.
And I'm fucking pissed. I don't need to put up with this bullshit. I feel completely trapped again, like I'm going crazy. This is how I felt before I went back to RED after my pass, when I spent a few days fighting with suicidal thoughts because the idea of "I'd rather die than go back home" was extremely real to me.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhh.
On top of all of this, I'm just sick of doctors. I'm sick of spending every moment pulling into the parking lot of a new medical building. I feel like I've gone to every hospital in the tri-state area, honestly, and I can't take it anymore. It's been a year, I pretty much have my eating under control, I'm fucking sick of doctors. I don't want to deal with all the shit about explaining myself anymore. I want supports in my life that stay in my life. I don't want to keep starting over with new specialists. Mostly I just need to get out of the house so I can do what I need to work my program and not have to deal with JaneTheInsane-TheAllKnowingBrain and Papa's musical version of Chinese water torture.
Maybe I'll go do a chemistry experiment. I need to blow something up.
Like the current situation. A cloud of smoke *kpppppow* and then...only ashes.
frickerfuckergrrrglnoid
chord
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