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10:30 p.m. - 02/08/03
root root root for the home team.
I'm not really sure how interesting this can be for anyone, but I feel like if I look into the specific shame thoughts now, then tomorrow I can just say, "I went on a guilt trip over that" without having to dissect each particular phrase. So in the meantime, you can always find something more interesting to do. Maybe e-mail these fuckers about the most recent atrocity. (Crew 8, Laura. Hint: Eddie's favorite food is Twinkies.)

*

It wasn't real. It was very real. It was intense, and painful, and still hurts sometimes.

You faked it. Honey, I didn't have enough control over what was happening to manipulate it. I was not the one calling the shots.

You shouldn't have. You should have done something else. You could, and you didn't, so you're bad. I did not choose this. I did not choose the course of events that led up to it, or the course of consequences that followed. I didn't even choose the disorder itself. If I had, it would have been a desperate mistake, and I would not have to carry guilt for that. I can carry pride for having worked so hard (even just this far) to get out of it.

"It was unnecessary." Alright, voice. Whoever you are, you obviously don't know much about this illness. It's awful, ok? I would never have decided to "live" that way, if I didn't feel I really needed to. If there wasn't cause, or if I had been given access to the other options, it would not have happened. It did happen; therefore, it was necessary. (It is also very, very necessary that I get out of it.)

You weren't in enough pain to justify that. Right. Because, generally speaking, people enjoy putting themselves through physical, mental, and emotional hell without any reason. Because, generally speaking, people enjoy denying even their physical needs, injuring themselves, and forcing all their food back out of their system. Be nice, for goodness' sake! That doesn't make any sense! It happened; therefore it was justified. That doesn't mean it wasn't also awful and possibly preventable (if enough people/forces- not just me!- had aligned.) That doesn't mean recovery isn't more than justified as well. But I had the reason to be sick. I have the reason to be sick now, too. The difference is- this time- I have the means not to be.

You're supposed to be smart/ have potential/ be better than this. This disease has nothing to do with intelligence or internal worth. It has a lot to do with outrageous, perfectionist standards, however, and I won't stand to look at my illness through the eyes of its lies. i.e. Thinking like this helped me get sick; obviously it's not something I want to keep in my pack for the trip home.

You didn't work hard enough to get out of this. You aren't going fast enough. You're implying that my effort is the only factor in my recovery, which isn't true. I'm putting a great deal of effort into this; I always do. Sometimes I'm pushing with that force against a feather and sometimes- against a brick wall. Progress doesn't always feel the same, but I'm always working at it. I'm going to learn, in my recovery, that there is more than enough time, attention, help, and love to go around. I haven't used-up my allotted support. I don't have to do anything to earn that support. All I have to do is stay safe and keep working so I have the voice to ask for it. (And challenge frustrating, counterproductive thoughts like this one.)

I see through you. I know it was never real. I know even when you whine about it now, you're faking. We've already established that it was real, and it was nothing I could fake or would have wanted to (despite the desperate measures I took to receive affection/ attention/ connection.) But the real oddity of this statement, is that you see *through* me. You don't really see me at all, do you? You see through me, and you replace me with shame and guilt and ulterior motives. The truth is, I'm a decent person, and sometimes I can see that. Yesterday, I felt like shit for sending the doc a Get Well Card. Today, I realized, that's a sweet thing to do. It's the type of thing I do because of who I am. And I like me. I like me in those moments. I'm learning to like me.

You're such a needy fraud. I see right through you. My needs are part of what makes me human, part of what specifies this person as *me.* They are part of how I learn about myself and connect to other people. They teach me important lessons and keep me safe. Refusing to acknowledge my needs will only bring back the Flat World, which I hate. Being honest about them and meeting them serves me well. And it helps others far more than my attempt at perfection ever does.

You're wasting my time and keeping people who really need and deserve help from getting it. Everyone deserves help; that much I know. I deserve help, too, because of who I am. And I want it, and I work to help myself, and to accept the support of others, which just seals the deal. I'm not wasting anyone's time. In under two years, I've grown in strides that look like full-form transformations. Why do I have to believe that isn't fast enough? Why do I have to believe that receiving what I need means taking it from someone else?

That's what you've done for years now, and that's why your friends aren't better. Your illness was fake so you got through it more quickly (and it's done now!) and in the meantime, you kept them from getting what they need. What's happening now is All. Your. Fault." I'm getting through my illness because I've found a method and support that works well for me, and because I'm putting a hell of a lot of effort into doing so. As for my friends (blessed wonderous people...) I don't know why they aren't all seeing the same results so quickly. I do know that it has nothing to do with me. As much as I love them, and as much grief as I feel at their pain, I would choose to save them from it in a heartbeat. I would never choose to lock them there. I love them, and I need them, and I'm just not so evil as you say.

:<

I'm just not.

The last half was significantly harder to challenge than the first; I think they're more recently surfaced messages. The old ones (first half) are ingrained fairly well, but that means I've also had to challenge them a lot. Apparently, I need to challenge them some more, though. If I still don't feel like I've been through enough to justify the fact that I got sick, that it needs to be justified, or that I'm faking, there are still many thoughts to alter. So between now and the next random rec exercise, I will just try to catch and redirect them at every turn.

Break out the athletic equipment. This chordling's on a mission.

said chordling

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