11:00 a.m. - 12/01/01
i deserve good things.
If Zach sends me one more e-mail that closes with "love and lipkisses" I may have to sic a rabid squirrel on him. I'm caught with what I should do. I figured I just wouldn't respond to his letter asking for this diary's address, but now he's sent me another one. I know that with Billy (who thankfully has not written asking for anything) I always chose to not respond, knowing that any connection to him would just lead me further inside his hold, but with Zach I don't know. Do I need to flat out say, I've decided to embrace a lifestyle filled with people healthy enough to not tell me they're about to stab themselves because I don't love them?
I'd just rather not be a part of this shit, which is why I decided not to respond, but now, without the affirmation of one or more doctors telling me I seem to have my head on straight (as if any doctor ever told me that - ha!) I question myself. I have no doubt that Zach and I need to maintain distance; I just don't know how to explain that to him.
Immeshed relationships terrify me now. I get these codependent letters from kids who write the way I always did - the way I wrote to them and to Chas and to Billy...and it scares the shit out of me. I want to say, hey, let's slow down - let's hear each other's voices at least ten times before we start saying this love is life and death.
I'm really scared about my relationship with Chas. I know how sick it was, and it scares me that of course, she knows that, too. I understand why she had to keep setting boundaries, and I feel horrible about how needy and clingy I was. I know better than to beat myself up for it because the need inside my neediness was real, and I can't change that. The problem is I don't know how to say to her, "I'd like a chance to show you that I'm not a loveleech now." I don't know how to build that relationship into something real and healthy. I'll probably end up writing her a letter, but after that I want to call. I feel somewhat leery of the Internet these days...it's like a room filled with the memory of purges. It needs to be entered with awareness if not caution.
In two hours, I'll begin a conference I've dreamed about attending since I hit the double digits. I hope we have some writing-work right off today because I think it will calm down my sillier fears. For the most part, I'm completely excited about the writing, the play-work, and the conference itself. I'm scared of stupid things- like having to eat snacks when no one else does, the possibility my meal plan will be higher than what a normal person eats at a meal, the fact that my clothes might not be right. I know I'm obsessing because of something greater, but I'm stuck in the food, the clothes, and the weight right now. I hate that...I feel blinded by my own illness.
My body image is absolute shit today, so of course I'm looking at my reflection in every window to prove to myself how awful I look. I finally found clothes I think I can wear, after changing about 20 times in 45 minutes...such is my life at this point...time to make a change, methinks.
Alright, Brea - here we go. For the next 24 hours, I will not be sick. I will be confident, excited, self-assured.
I forgot to get her a postcard. I'll have to keep my eye out during the conference...
hopeful
chord
�
�
