4:20 p.m. - 07/03/02
don't let me get me. [guilty pop girl...]
I started this at 4:20. I'm finishing it after nine. Mama said there'd be days like this, and so forth.
*
I almost fell asleep during my mri this morning, which I suppose says something for the state of medical technology. if crazy claustrophobic girl can lie there nearly dreaming, the rest of the world should get along fine. the woman who ran the test was really nice, and the muzak had enough movement to pass as classical. I just lay there among the pillows feeling like a girl at a spa where construction workers carried on outside. all in all, when she came to help me up after about 45 minutes, I was disappointed at having to open my eyes.
though I suppose this could all have had something to do with the fact that we had to leave for the appt. at 7:45 and I'm usually falling asleep around then. I tried to nap when I got home, but as usual I'm just awake enough to keep myself from sleeping. I think that's one of the downfalls of having had an eating disorder; I'm so used to running on no energy, I don't know how to turn myself down.
after the mri, I met with dr. r for what I assume was a little over an hour, and what felt like about five minutes. I guess I'm hurting pretty badly over this whole outside-world-issue because even though I felt ok about talking while I was there, I felt pretty not ok about finishing. he's very good at making the weeks cohesive, making me feel like I can move from one Wednesday to the next without losing track of what happened last. still, I felt a little disappointed that he didn't have a magic solution for my troubles. I figure as a counselor he must have some experience with this whole wanting-to-fix-the-world issue, and maybe he had a recipe for happiness tucked up his sleeve. unfortunately, he stuck to the age-old methods of, "we'll have to think about that" and "that's interesting, what you just said."
he told me at one point that what I'd just said would make a very good play. I gave a kind of pained smile and said, "at least I've got that going for me." lovely, yes? my whole world falls apart, but hey, I have writing material. the awful thing is - he's right. I lay in bed for an hour trying to sleep and weaving a scene instead. it could be a play. it could try to be.
I feel like I haven't been home in weeks; I suppose because we left so early this morning, and I went out again tonight (second time - no meds.) driving toward civilization tonight, I started to feel all cocky about how often I go out - I was preparing for my *second* meal out in one day, and hey aren't I cool, and oh yeah I'm nervous, but I am so amazing, and with my meds I can do anything, and I'm going to brag next time I speak with Redlings, and they'll be proud. I need to remember, in the future, that if it occurs to me that going out was sometimes a chore, it probably is a chore in the moment. if I'm feeling all, "I'm out in the world and this is huge!" I'm probably about to be smashed under the weight of that hugeness.
I think it's a rule in my life that if I think things are going well and start ignoring my feelings I will end up crying in a public place. I also think it's a rule that whenever I seem angry out of context, I'm really (REALLY) hurt in a shamed, implosive sort of way. These two rules set off fireworks in my face on my second trip into the world today. I didn't feel independence; I felt fried.
I guess I have an eating disorder. We went to this Evil Restaurant whose vegetarian options consisted of potatoes and vegetables w/ rice. I actually had a *craving* for the latter today, but I fulfilled it at *lunchtime* with some Chinese goodness, and was not intrigued by the idea of rerunning that show. I ended up ordering their French Onion soup, which they *claim* is vegetarian, but (I've had before and insist) has a beef bouillon...none of this matters. What matters happened between the time that I ordered a chocolate smoothie and the time it arrived and I swore to myself I could not drink that, and of course I could not eat anything.
I think I was a little thrown by the fact that my parents picked this Basically Evil Restaurant (where I guessed there'd be very little food for me), and the fact that I didn't get my normal vote/veto power in the face of food. And also, I'm just really in a lot of pain right now and I didn't really realize that- I kept thinking if everyone else would be ok, I'd be okay too when the truth is the fact that I need that so badly *shows* I'm not ok in the first place...so things, erm, escalated. I was really mad at my mom for (purposefully, *huff*) picking the restuarant, and I considered picking a fight with her but before I could pull forth enough anxiety to really let it rip, I was crying.
Apparently, my head said something along the lines of, "they brought you to this place where you have no food choices because they don't want you to eat." Because of course, no one wants my poisonous monster self fed. I started crying, instantly. I mean, I have thoughts like this *often* (though thankfully nowhere near as often as a year ago), but I don't usually take them seriously; I don't usually *feel* these thoughts anymore. This one just stung me in a way I haven't felt in ages, and I ended up crying, staring down my water, while my parents tried to pick up the pieces and convince me to go somewhere else.
But I stayed. And I drank my smoothie and I ate my soup. This is hell sometimes; this is truly hell.
I just can't believe the pain that can still come up through food. How simply my head can crash down on me; how my own *mind* will turn on me, will thrash me that way. I know Ed is separate from me, we are *not* the same, but it's still really horrible to hear abuse and affirmation from the same voice...and, you know, it's *my* voice in my head.
When I finished my smoothie, Mom asked if I wanted another, and I nearly hit her. I told her it had been hard enough to finish the first one, and I said flat-out something that I'd been needing both my parents, but especially my mom, to hear for some time: I said, "I don't need this! Ok? This is still hard! I still struggle! I still have an eating disorder. Even if it's been a year and a half, it's still here, and you still need to be careful about that!" and she apologized so quickly (you're right, you're right) and sincerely I felt better. It's amazing; sometimes, when I speak now, it's like we both use the same words.
But it's true. I wasn't sure why I needed so badly to believe that I still have an eating disorder (and why I need everyone else to know this) and I still don't know the whole of it, but one large part is: I do. I still struggle, and I can't have people forgetting that because it's no longer a crisis. That's my whole life repeated, and my whole life didn't lead to the happiest of times. I mean, not without going through a whole lot of shit.
I really, really hope Dr. R can get me through to function in a year...
chord
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